My sister-in-law likes to make fun of my brother and me about how much we dislike and complain about change. Usually this tends to come up around Christmas...when we balk at Mom as she claims she won’t be putting up that silly Incredible Hulk Christmas ornament in the kitchen this year or if someone suggests we make the cut-out cookies from a different recipe (ok, this one was all Mike). Traditions are traditions and if we change them around, wouldn’t they cease to be traditions? Or at least this is the argument Mike & I try to use.
This year as I drove away from St. Louis after Christmas and back to school I started to really think about this problem with change that my sister-in-law so cheerfully points out. (Your mind tends to wander on that lonely 6-7 hour drive, let me tell you...) I had just spent a few weeks back at home and although I’d made the trip back and forth a couple of times already this year, this was the first time since my move down in August I felt a little sick. Nope, no flu, no cold, just that slight sinking feeling of nervousness that always seems to come with change.
It seems so ridiculous, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve already spent 5 months here and have great friends – it’s not like I’m venturing into completely new territory here.
But this is the same feeling I’ve gotten every time I move and every time I start at a new school or a new activity. You’d think it’d be different, but it felt exactly the same whether I was starting work with a new theatre company or moving half way across the country. The only difference is that those little changes are easier to handle and the feeling easier to overcome when I still have to security of the same home or same friends.
Maybe that’s why I always am willing to try new things – I get a thrill out of overcoming that fear...at least as long as I have my backup support! Over the course of my life so far I’ve tried karate, irish dance, fencing, theatre, choir, band, tumbling, soccer, volleyball, tap, jazz, ballet, modern, basketball, track and field, softball, and I’m still probably forgetting a few things. I LOVE knowing how lots of things work and trying my hand at them, even though I feel scared and sick every time I start out.
But on the other side of this coin is the challenge to overcome this fear when I don’t have that backup. I get shoved off of a cliff I like to call my comfort zone and into a completely new city, new job, and new friends. That takes quite a bit more effort to deal with…and it seems like nothing will ever feel right again. It’s in those times that we all wish we could just go back home and live without the responsibility of adulthood. And no matter how many times I seem to go through this, the only thing that has gotten better is my recovery time...because I'm able to assure myself that this feeling of wanting to give up and go home WILL go away sooner or later, usually with the emphasis on the former. And I usually end up loving my new situation.
Evidently those three weeks were enough to get my system back into the Midwest swing of things and it's now resisting my flight south. So now as I get ready to start another semester of classes, I’m going to fight back this pit in my stomach, because I know that in a few days it will be gone and I’ll be back to enjoying my friends and my life here. Maybe I’m allergic to change – as always, my body will get used to it and it'll return to status quo.
But just because I realize I’ll get over the reaction to change doesn’t mean my sister-in-law won’t hear me complain about it just a little!
