Take Your Pick of Cliches: Today’s Post Is About Transition
“This too shall pass.”
“Nothing lasts forever.”
“Nothing gold can stay.”
“The only constant in the universe is change.”
No matter who said it, or how they frame it, the message is clear. Everything is temporary. Matter and energy are inextricably linked and neither can be created nor destroyed. They’re finite. You never lose either. They just shift from one form to another. At least that’s my understanding of physics.
The physicists tell us that even our bodies aren’t made up of the same atoms and cells they were seven years ago or so.
Our Lives are Rivers, Not Lakes.
Some rivers are slow. Some are fast. Some are wide. Some are deep. Some carve huge canyons out of earth and move the mightiest of mountains. Some trickle along as streams, content with their quiet high-altitude surroundings. Others are born and die out with the seasons.
No matter what, though, if you look at one spot on a river, you’re not going to see that same water again for months. It’s still, however, the same river.
This is how we need to look at change in our lives. A river doesn’t wonder who or what it is as the water that makes it up rushes past. The river knows exactly what it is no matter how high up the banks it’s crawling.
Last year, I faced a situation in which the exact opposite of what I had planned for my life happened. Instead of getting a full-time teaching job, despite having five years experience, and a Master’s degree, I couldn’t even get an interview. My income was cut by nearly two thirds, and I’ve spent this entire year trying to stay afloat.
The Times They Are A Changin’
I had to come to terms with who I was regardless of what my employment status said. It wasn’t easy, but somewhere around April I think I made a real breakthrough. I began manifesting positivity in my life. Not by visualizing it or by tapping into the phony “law of attraction” that devotees of The Secret will tell you. By working my ass off. I made decisions about who I wanted to be, and then I started acting on those decisions.
I wanted to be a fit runner again, so I started walking, then running. Now I run two and a half miles at least three times per week and I’m back down to a respectable weight again.
I wanted to build up my own freelance business. I took job after job until I finally landed some long term clients, and now that’s my current source of income.
There are other opportunities that have opened up in the teaching field, as well. I have secure employment for the fall, and I no longer feel trapped by my circumstances. I’ve persevered through a real bitch of a year, and I’m at the other end of it now. It’s time to pick up the pieces and welcome in all of this new water that’s filling up my life.
I also have to be thankful for the water that’s already passed me by, and the water that’s coming — no matter what it looks like — because it’s going to be me for a moment, one way or another.
We’re rivers, we’re not lakes. We’re born, and as we move toward the Ocean of the great beyond, we grow and change. We impact our surroundings, carving out channels wherever we flow. Sometimes we flood, and sometimes we dry up. Often, we carry more baggage than we need with us for far too many miles. Sometimes we move rapidly through turmoil and rocky ground. Other times we flatten out and drift lazily through wide spreads and watch as the sun sets or rises before us. Time moves on, and so do we.
Here’s hoping to a smooth ride.