Change and Resistance

 

I do not typically like changes. I prefer routine and order. But there are times when I embrace change, when it is something that I look forward to. For example, this weekend my wife and I went to the zoo. That was something I enjoy, but it was not routine. I was relaxed and ready for adventure.

It has often been said that there is nothing permanent in life except change.  I suppose that is true. But are there times when change is not the right course? Does change always need to occur? Sometimes I want to scream, “No”, in the face of change. Other times I want to hide in my room, where I am safe and free.

I especially hate it when change seems to come out of the blue, such as when Facebook changed its format or when my favorite television shows changed from one night to another. These make no sense, but, since they are items that I am interested in, I feel trapped. I have to adjust.  But because the changes that have occurred seem capricious and stupid, I often become frustrated.

Yet there are other times when I am accepting of change—when it is not a surprise and when I can prepare for it. I knew that moving to Florida and attending graduate school would be a big change, but it was something that I wanted and planned for. Plus now that I am married, I have a partner to help in my anxiety (and I in hers).  Even though this was a positive change, I still resisted. I postponed my enrollment at the university for one year. Why?

Perhaps it is because change is unpredictable. It makes sense to resist it, since I know what is going on now, but I have no idea what will occur in the future. Apparently I am not alone. Many people are stuck in bad jobs or marriages because they are resistant to change. The present with all of its problems at least has certainty.

Change and resistance appear to work in tandem. As has been said, “for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”. Resisting then, is our way to maintain control.  It makes us feel, for the time at least, that things are alright—that there is no need for change.

Long ago I heard a prayer, “God give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can. . . .” But, I do not want “to accept”. I want to pout. I want to argue. I want to resist, for as said sometimes change is not necessary.

Nonetheless I know that I need to ultimately accept change. It happens, everyday. I may dig my heals in, but in the end little usually improves. There is power in resisting, of sticking it to “the system”.

Somewhere there is a balance between accepting and resisting change. Too far one way and we become as leaves blowing in the wind—having no center and always changing to meet the current situation. Too far the other way  and we become stubborn, cynical and negative---the type of person that no one wants to be around.

Life is hard. There is always something changing. Sometimes it is welcoming and positive. Other times, it is not.

Resistance is important too. It is one of our coping mechanisms. Resist well. Use it sparingly, realizing when it will work and when it does not.

Change and resistance are two sides of the same coin. Remember that every part of life is connected, and at its center is love.

 

 

 

 

On standing...

On standing. . .

My job requires a lot of standing. Dressed in a suit and tie, I stand in the back, by the doors, or in the foyer, where I can give assistance if needed. Sometimes, I stand off to the side while the services are going on. At these times, I feel as I am on sentry duty, as if in the military. I pretend that my dark suit, is a military dress uniform. I have a solemn duty: to stand guard and to honor.

Generally, I do not mind. However, I am not as disciplined as the military. I cannot stand still like a statue for long periods of time. My mind and body wanders.

I begin to think about people who do a lot of standing for their work. There seems to be a division between those whose work requires much standing, and those whose work requires much less. Who then are the “standers”? 

At the top of this list are those in the military, especially those in sentry posts who I pretend that I am emulating. Other “standers” are teachers and coaches, nurses and doctors, farmers, security guards, factory workers and salespeople including cashiers.

What do they have in common?

They all are in positions of service. Regardless of whether the job is directly involved with caring for people such as nurses and teachers, or more indirectly such as salespeople, cashiers and farmers, their work requires movement and closeness.  Physical strain is an everyday occurrence.

Most of the “standers” are not thinkers; they are doers. They do not sit behind a desk, or in front of a computer, but rather are out and about doing their jobs. Jobs that are to be done in all types of conditions, and too often without thanks, for these are the overlooked positions. Not glamorous out of the lime-light, those who stand provide the basic services and tasks that are needed.

Standing requires being present.  As kids we were taught to stand at attention. You cannot “phone it in"; you actually have to be there, and do the task.

I am also reminded that many people cannot stand. Their health will not allow it. I think that most people who are confined to a bed or a wheelchair, who are racked by arthritis or Parkinson’s would like to be able to stand. Perhaps I should see it as a blessing: a small sign that I am healthy.

It is in little things that I find understanding. Standing is often overlooked. It is a little thing, yet it means a lot. It means that I am present, and that I am healthy. Next time our legs get sore and we become restless, we need to remember that standing is a good thing . . . but then, so is sitting, especially after a long day of standing. That is a gift in itself!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dark and Cold

Dark and Cold

Dark and cold: these words describe December. Weather changes into gray miserable days. No wonder there has been winter celebrations since days of old. People need relief from the gloominess.

 

Dark and cold: these words depict for many, their life. Existence has become difficult. With neither money nor friends happiness seems elusive.  People need a relief from their oppression.

 

Dark and cold: these words define our humanity. The world is in disarray. War has become familiar. People need a relief from its conflicts.

 

Yes, we live in a world that is dark and cold.  Our pain is real. We hurt and cry. 

But take comfort. Something is afoot. 

Look a tiny bud is blooming. Hear a happy baby coo. Feel a lighted fire.

 Small things break through.

Suddenly it is not as dark. Suddenly it is not as cold. Suddenly we have found relief.

Darkness. . .

Coldness. . .

Give way to relief --if we look for the small things.

 

 

 

 

On Positive Writing

On positive writing

Write something positive, I am told. Everything you write is dark and negative.

I am positive, I can. I said, for I am a positive person.

But, I am also a realist. I see things that are askew.

Life is complex. I sigh.

I work to pay bills, but bills are never paid.

I pray for peace, yet look to war.

 

True, those are real events. Things happen. Bills are due. People fight.

Yet isn’t there sunshine. Isn’t there laughter.

 

Sunshine brings bugs, and bugs sting and bite.

As for laughter what is funny? Everyone is sensitive. Everyone is touchy

 

Ok then but what about the dog?

The dog is happy.

The dog is happy, because the dog is fed, is safe and has no worries.

Besides, isn’t it sad when I leave?

 

Yet, it survives.

See, it recline on the couch, its paws strechted out. It cares not that you fret. It cares not that you have no money, or that you have had a bad day.

It is happy.

I look. I see my dog. It is asleep. It looks peaceful

I relax and look closer. That bill that I have to pay looks smaller than before. I want to nap---with my dog

I lay down. Dog comes. Licking begins. Tail wags.

Dog is happy.

Dog makes me happy.

Good dog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never

Never

 

When I was young

It seemed that I would never get to drive

It was all that I thought about.

 

When I was in school

It seemed that I would never get finished

It was all that I thought about

 

When I was single

It seemed that I would never get married

It was all that I thought about

 

Now I have a car

And a diploma

And a spouse

I never thought I would

 

Often it seems as if “never” will never come

But it always does

Just never when we want it to

 

Compare

COMPARE

 

I don’t like to do it,

But it comes naturally

I see this and want that

I compare.

 

I want to stand out

I want to “be me”

But, can I be different

If I need to compare?

 

Is it right?

Is it wrong?

I don’t want really want what they have

Do I?

 

Envy, Jealously, Want,

These are a part of me

It all seems innocent

As one child staring at the other’s toy

 

Which is better?

Which is worse?

Is it mine, or is it yours?

Lo! Each one is unique.

 

But as I watch them

I cannot become me

For if I am not them

Then I do not need to compare!

 

I want to shine

I want to be known

I want to make my own way

I don’t need to compare.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Small Things

                                                                  Small things:         

Thirsty Lizard

Today I saw my first thirsty lizard! I had never seen a lizard drink.  It was a magical peaceful, moment.

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              The sun shone brightly off the pond behind our apartment. Despite the summer heat, a pleasant breeze made the screened-in back porch comfortable. Nearby ducks searched the grass for food as squirrels chased each other between the trees. Everything seemed alive and fresh—the green grass, the clear water and the blue sky.  Here, surrounded by nature I liked to read.

Suddenly I noticed four potted plants resting upon the window ledge. One was dead; another had been overrun by weeds. Just two were alive, but they needed water. Grabbing a nearby jug, I decided to water those plants. It was the least I could do.

Soon a tiny pond formed at the base of these pots. I stopped pouring for I did not want water to spill over the ledge. From behind the plants, a small lizard—an anole—popped out of hiding. At about two inches long, it could easily have hidden between the plant and the window screen.

I had to watch. Somehow I had the feeling that an event was about to occur. Slowly, cautiously the anole crept to the edge of the water. It extended its neck, and reaching down, began to drink, as ripples vibrated.

For that moment everything seemed to stop. This little creature was thirsty, and, for a brief time, let its guard down. The potted plants, the ledge, and the window screen created a little world of safety and serenity for the anole. For it, this was an oasis. After a few seconds it had its fill. The anole turned around and quickly slithered behind the plants, and back to safety.

It was such a small and simple act—an ordinary ritual. Yet there was a beauty, as this made life seem in harmony. Ducks were waddling, squirrels were scampering to and fro, as this little lizard took a drink.

 Once again small things provided a glimpses of truth: life has a design. It has a purpose. Everything is interconnected—the water, the plant, the anole and myself. We all are but bit players in the cosmic play.

I felt connected, and at peace.  I returned to my book.