I hate change.

I hate that with change I (usually) have to experience loss, discomfort and cold, hard truth.

I hate that it is disruptive and that it always, without fail, leaves me disoriented, confused and emotional. That it demands my focus, my patience and my maturity.

I hate change.

I hate that Junior has left home and that, in the not so distant future, so will his two siblings. I hate missing him and worrying about him. Things were so much simpler when he lived down the corridor to the left of the living room.

I hate the not knowing; the uncertainty that change brings.

I hate being vulnerable as only change can make you.

I hate that it means starting over, with a different cast of characters, new settings and sometimes brand new habits- and who would want that kind of headache?

Change is torturous. You have to unlearn many of your beliefs and preconceived notions. You have to fight with yourself and others before the dust settles and everything falls into place. If it falls into place.

It means learning to coexist with tears and /or the absence of a loved one.

Change. It is seldom fun or enjoyable or welcome.

Because we- I- want to avoid pain as much as possible. Because I want to consistently know joy and laughter. I don’t want to have to dig deep and dissect my feelings. Who knows what I might find? I don’t want my boat rocked.

But mostly…..because change- that stealer of contentment – that ruiner of status quo brings goodbyes. And goodbyes are not my strongest point.

Who doesn’t want a good thing to last?

Yet I am old enough (and hopefully wise enough) to know we don’t and can’t live in a bubble. We are not made of wires or bolts or wood. We are living thinking feeling beings.  Even if we pray for it to, life does not remain still nor does it wait.

Paradoxically, change is what sharpens us, makes us love harder, appreciate more. It grows us as people and individuals. We are not trees meant to remain in one place. We are made to evolve, to see beyond our present circumstances; to reach towards better things beckoning to us from the horizon of our fears.