To my knowledge, the Earth has been spinning as usual, but somehow a lot of the core things in my life are — or feel — different. Even though these October days in California are mostly warm and sunny, there is a true “change in the air,” one that pervades and touches and shifts around dusty stacks.
I just talked to my dad and he had some seeds of wisdom for me. The one that stuck out the most was him saying:
“You do change well.”
I guffawed. “Ha! I do not ‘do change well’ . . . are you serious?” I said back. He followed up with:
“People who do change well do not necessarily think its easy.”
The clear and decisive way he said it seemed to deserve further reflection.
Since change is constant in the universe, what else could anyone “do” better? And why do I always feel like it is hard, if I am always doing it?
I can’t possibly answer that today, but I do know that like sunflowers turning toward the sun, I feel a shift of direction toward light.
Like water caught as micro-beads in micro-bowls created by the sturdy mandala of a succulent — I can cherish the most precious of resources before I let them fall with gravity and nourish my roots.
And like a child taking her first big leap off a hay bale holding tight to a zip line, I feel the exhilaration of letting go even while I hold on to something sturdy enough to bear my weight as I fly.