Change, Just Do It.
The maxim that change is the only constant in life is difficult to refute, though I would be willing to give it a go. I recognize the validity of the idea, but at the same time I don’t feel like my day to day existence varies that much most of the time. Sometimes I think this is a great thing: Yay! Comfort and security rule! Other times it depresses me: God, I’m restless! Let’s shake things up around here! Of course there are many kinds of change, good and bad, mediocre, changes you enact yourself, and my most personally dreaded, those that feel thrust upon you from outside forces. That’s when I realize what a sad, frightened little creature I really am. That’s when I break out the Garth:
I think that one of my good qualities is that I’m aware of my many, many failings as a human being, perhaps too aware. That’s not to say I’m working on them all, but at least I’m aware of them and that’s a start. Some changes have recently happened in my life, not really bad or good, just changey. Though they have worked out fine, as most things tend to do, my feral animal behaviour entertained me and may entertain others as well. So allow me to present my phases when faced with change that does not factor into my ‘plan’, another truly hilarious concept.
Phase One: Resistance. Nooooooooooooo, I will not participate! I will turn my back on you, change, and ignore the need for you until you go away! This phase can last a surprisingly long time.
Phase Two: Grudging contemplation. If the change seems inevitable or is controlled by forces I cannot reasonably thwart, this is the next stage. This stage usually occurs at night when I’m trying to sleep or in the shower. This phase manifests in a particularly vivid and repeating montage of all the ways this change may lead to my utter and complete doom. My brain will conveniently leave out any potential positive benefits. Thanks, brain!
Phase Three: Plan. Since the change is inevitable and I am now well aware of every horror that could result from it thanks to Phase Two, I now must plan the best way to implement it and avoid as many of the horrors as possible. That’s the best I can do. Also usually completed when I should be sleeping.
Phase Four: Action. Make the change or allow the change to happen. This is best done quickly, like when a band aid dries right on to the wound it’s covering. Just rip that sucker off. It will be ugly, but at least it will be done with.
Phase Five: Suspicion. Tread lightly around this change for a while. It is not part of my usual zone of comfort and security, which I resent. Where will you fit in to my little world, change? Will you, should you? In what way, or ways, will you screw me over? Because surely you will, you bastard.
Phase Six: Acceptance. Another phase that can take a surprisingly long time. Realize change was fine, nothing all that bad happened and in fact, change may turn out to be for the better. Wonder why I was so worried about it in the first place, silly!
Phase Seven: Sleep. Being crazy is exhausting.