Enjoy :)
It’s been a while since I’ve given a reflection here. And if
you’ll forgive me, indulge me a little, condone the excess of a captive
audience without the pressures of my normal work environment bearing down, and
excuse the quotes peppered throughout, as there are people so much more
eloquent than I am. So herein lie words of wisdom that I need to give myself. A
diatribe to me. Things I need to hear, and perhaps, will bring some thought to
you as well.
Let me begin by wishing everyone a very happy new year.
Welcome to 2014. Welcome back. Welcome forward. Welcome new and old. And we can
start with the traditional question: what are your new year’s resolutions? Diligently,
every year, I sit down and write a letter to myself on new years day. I read
the letter from the previous year. I take stock. I make my resolutions, and,
regrettably, tend to break them by February. I was late this year. I had quite
a bit of jetlag on the 1st and one of the worst travel adventures in
the eight year I’ve been commuting transatlantically. But that is a story for
another day. Funny thing, the new year though… We get this feeling of
opportunity, a clean slate, a fresh start, a ground swell of new pressures, of
growth, of personal commitments, and of change.
Ah. Change.
Those of you who know me well, would know that I am a
creature of habit. I’m good at organizing. I’m fantastic at planning. I can table
a day down to the minute so every second is productive. And when on a routine,
I am most efficient, most effective, and possibly happiest. So maybe then, it
will come as no surprise that I do not like change. I suspect I’m not alone. Many
people dread it. Change is intimidating, daunting, frightening, inevitable…
Necessary. “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for
what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before
we can enter another.” (Anatole France).
I am certainly not new to change. I am an ex-pat, living in
my third country of residence, in my sixth city, on my second career, and in my
eleventh “job” since graduation from medical school. Like death and taxes, it
follows everywhere. Some change has always been regrettable: the death someone
we love, irreparable transitions in relationships, forced job change, moving
house, moving country, immigration, catastrophe… Change as loss. Wherein we
feel the victim, through injury or sacrifice, change is thrust upon us by
outside force. I’ve somehow always been better at facing this type of change.
Bracing against the elements, following the protocol, an algorithm of survival
to come out, weather weary, perhaps only slightly worse for the wear on the
other side. Easy.
There are the changes that are festive though. A new life, a
new relationship, an unexpected surprise. Change as gain. Change as a present
that gifts our lives with something new. Deserving or not, we welcome, always,
the pleasant changes that bring us joy. How could we not? I have the most
beautiful new niece. Through nothing of my work or device, the most blessed
change. Lucy is a tiny bundle of joy that changes everyone who meets her. I met
her at 3 days old. I’ve already watched my brother become a father with his
first son, but I’ve seen another change now. One that’s hard to describe, but beautiful.
And so happy.
And then there are the changes that come from plans. The
ones we anticipate, perhaps with anxiety, often of our own making. It’s slightly
more challenging to run the course when we’ve set out the plans ahead of
ourselves rather than have them thrust upon us. These changes are the ones I
resist. The ones I dread. The ones I dig in my heels and stubbornly refuse to
acknowledge until there is no other choice. If you’ll forgive my language, the
change that comes as a kick up the arse that I need to move on, to move
forward, to do what is necessary, because I’ve become stagnant, because I have
forgotten what I can do, what is possible, what I should do, what I’m called to
do. And I hate it, because I should know better. I should have more faith in my
ability to be changed and bring change. “Never believe that a few caring people
can’t change the world. For indeed, that’s all who ever had.” (Margaret Mead)
So then, in the almost unnatural calm that follows the
Christmas season. That follows the waiting and anticipation, the chaos of tasks
of joy that flow into the dead of winter, we find our ebb. Our sparkling, clean
new year. Our moment of pause before we crash forth into January, into work,
and weather. And in this moment we make resolutions. Resolutions to do
differently, to do more, to new habits, to breaking poor routines, to fix, to
mend, to repair, to arrange, to secure, to better, to change. And perhaps, this
is where my failings lie. These things, these resolutions are plans. Plans of
change, perhaps promises of change. And we all know how great I am at planning
and terrible at change. The juxtaposition of my strength and weakness
side-by-side. Staring me down.
So I’m going to take a risk here and throw out my
resolutions. Forget the forward planning and do. Be bold. Be tenacious. Don’t
make resolutions, make revolutions. Rebel against the things that I would fear
and dive in. Jump first, “and build your
wings on the way down.” (Ray Bradbury). Do not wait to be changed. Be change
and be changed now. Unashamedly, shed that which we wish to change, leave it
behind, and by the grace be now what we know we can be.
“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be
a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like
eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary,
decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” (C.S. Lewis)
So my question is this: what are our plans for 2014, little
eggs? What are our New Year’s Revolutions?
