They say the only constant in life is change. Despite my efforts to maintain predictability and stability in my life, change is inevitable.
Of course, there are volitional changes of a positive spirit. Finishing college and beginning a career are usually welcome changes. Losing a job and searching for a new one, not so much.
The Scary Part of Change
Anticipating change can incite anxiety as uncertainty is baked in. Is what comes next going to, ultimately, be good or bad? Difficult or easy? Elicit growth or decay? An implicit titan of a question typically occupying the nether regions of my mind is whether or not I can handle the change. Do I have what it takes to adapt? Will I be overwhelmed by this change? Are my fears and weaknesses going to be put on display?
One of my skills is the ability to repeatedly worry if I’ll be safe and secure today, tomorrow, and indefinitely. Change can be so jarring because it reveals just how little control I have over my life. I can become comfortable and complacent in routine, riding a wave of false control.
Sometimes, change is looming in the future, and we can prepare in advance. Other times, it T-bones us as we cruise through yet another intersection of life. Maybe it’s largely due to the surprise, but this latter form is generally unfavorable.
Change is quite multifaceted. If it were up to me, I might very seldom request a change in my life, unless I deemed it ostensibly beneficial. I might have a long list of favorable modifications to life I’d like to see realized, but the reach of my masochism falls short of welcoming ambiguous alterations.
What Makes Change Scary?
Perhaps, a change in and of itself does not cause trepidation. The unpredictability and unknown nature of it are what make it tough.
Recently, I’ve found myself in the midst of numerous shifts. It’s been a mixed bag of loss, new ventures, and evolving vision for the future.
My experience is reminding me of a common sequence involved in change. At first, especially if the shift is unexpected, I tend to affix a negative label to it. If I manage to accept it and move forward, new possibilities that are agreeable often spring up.
Petulantly clinging to the past, refusing to concede that a variance has transpired, blinds me to the potential for good. I think it’s only natural to oppose change at first. Our conscious minds prefer automation, systematic processes, and the path of least resistance. The inertia is real.
If that defiance endures, we are prone to suffer as we fail to reconcile the dissonance between belief and reality. Accepting change and allowing ourselves to be transformed instead of tortured by it seems to require a few components.
3 Power-ups for Maintaining Sanity During Change
The first thing warranted is openness. As before, we may initially stall in our acceptance as we scrutinize and make accommodations for the change. However, willingness to “hear out” the deformation allows us to see potential providence and make appropriate adaptations.
Tethered to that openness is a measure of humility. Recognizing my scarcity of control involves admitting to my deficiencies. If I’m not careful, shame is lurking around the corner, ready to tell me my particular limitations indicate my low worth as a person. Humility assists me in remaining grounded in the truth of who I am despite my tumultuous circumstances.
Lastly, finding support from others in times of reform is key. It’s critical to refute the belief that an unplanned rearrangement in your life suggests an adverse reflection of you. I should have been ready for something like this. I’m so stupid for not thinking this could happen. Shame proliferates in isolation. Sharing vulnerably with other safe people is an efficacious antidote to shame, anxiety, and hopelessness. Everyone goes through challenging alterations. You don’t need to go through this alone.
Accepting and growing through life’s myriad of changes can certainly involve other components. Openness, humility, and support have been salient for me during this stage, and I hope they can be for you too (whenever you face your next change[s]).
Balancing the Past, Present, and Future
You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf. Change is going to happen whether we ask for it or not. I want to acknowledge that there can be grief in the loss of how things used to be. Even if that old familiarity wasn’t perfect, there is always room for sadness as you surrender the past.
Finding the delicate tension between past and present can be challenging. If I lean too far into the past that I begin dwelling there, yearning for things to be as they once were, I sabotage my present. I can’t be two places at once. Reminiscence can be a welcome salve at times, but it’s got to be balanced with current reality. Any time I get lost in a time and/or space outside of present reality, I am aligning myself with fantasy, peaking inside the box of old, unwanted behavior and addiction.
Taking up residence in the past also impedes my ability to look to the future. If I’m not facing forward, I might miss new opportunities that sprout from the ashes of the past.
This balancing act is always easier said than done. Experiencing a change in life can be like finishing a delightful book: there’s a sadness that it’s over, but there is a gratitude for the experience. I can allow personal enrichment and transformation by the narrative while looking ahead to the next good read. If I keep reading the same book repetitively, I could stifle my potential and impede further transformation.
Maybe change is not always necessarily good or bad. How we respond to it is what matters.
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:18-19 (NIV)
What to read next: Dare to Hope // Attuning to Grief
Here’s an article on what the Bible has to say about encountering change