“Change is not a threat to your life, but an invitation to live.” –Adrienne Rich
If this is accurate, and I’m suggesting that it is simply by copying it here, then physically relocating to another state is a jumpstart in living. Uprooting the life I know and moving across the country nearly 3k miles away has offered me a perspective on living that could not be gained otherwise. Every Jason that seemed to own a KOA site, the variations in vernacular and shirt lengths, the rolling miles from open skies and windmills to thick trees and extra tall billboards; every nuance guised under change or difference reminded me that my being was observing change while staying exactly the same. If truth is found in the Now, then consolidating thoughts and beliefs to change my current mindset seems more conducive to living than physically relocating although the one is obviously transparent. Simply said: changingminds is often harder than changing locations. However, experiencing different locations can have a profound impact on minds changing. I only appear to write in circles. I know my linear path. I had preconceived notions about the people living in every state we traveled through, notions I didn’t even realize I had, until a LOVE’s gas station confirmed my unexamined stereotypes. After all, only one tooth was missing. Change is linear. I saw it with my own eyes turned in every time we drove away to gain more ground. Change is inevitable, so I’ve decided to embrace Rich’s notion that it’s an invitation to live. We’ve put living into overdrive by moving.
Living. Hard to go wrong there if you choose to do it. Choosing to live amongst change or high water, through mud or clear skies, around bends or open plains, is the key to every new door. I’ve found that the alternative to living opens darkness. If you’ve ever opened a door into complete darkness, you know it looks the same as if the door had remained shut. Now is here, be it a dark room or a glowing sunrise, the movement towards or through one or the other is in my hands. I forget this sometimes, but eventually return. Change is an invitation offered within the mind. New people, different environments, unknown roads, serve as data boots for reframing mindsets. Of course, I’m speaking for myself. Change didn’t threaten my sense of self, it expanded my wall of courage, my horizon, my ability to grow.
I will grow nearly 3k miles from my hometown. I can already feel my toes digging into the red earth, because this is where I stand, fire ants and all. I can already feel my skin absorbing the thick air because this is where I breathe. I can feel my eyelids illuminating the peeking sun, because this is the direction my head tilts. Now. Here. I am becoming because I refuse to let the change halt my growth. I refuse to let the move stunt my senses for what can be. Southern California was a good run and a great start, but to dwell where she’s been is to barricade the new state just beyond my shores. I didn’t change to remain the same. I’m not moving to stand still. I can override the discomfort by holding onto my sense of a core self. I have speed limits to stay within and bridges to cross that ice before the road. I’m reminded many times a day. All bridges have the same warning, but it’s too hot right now to care. Like most advice that’s received at the wrong time, it appears dated and weathered. I drive on.
Change is the work of an everlasting light. The goal is not to focus on the floating particles. Change is an everlasting light, reflecting through or off specks of dust. No cleaning required. Change isn’t dependent on a human’s ability to accept it. It is. Same as truth. Truth isn’t dependent on somebody else’s belief in it as such. It is. Okay, so if “change is not a threat to your life, but an invitation to live,” then living is constantly changing if we’re inviting it, right?
If I think of change as a letter that arrives in the mailbox with my name on it, I’m more inclined to open it not with caution, but with abandon. If I think of anything with my name on it, designed just for me, apprehension flies away. Apprehension is replaced with self-confidence and an overwhelming sense of validation. I am cared for. I matter. It’s like not only is change the new possible, but it’s an embracement of the greatness in possibility.
That said, I have my perspective to look through and I respect that everybody within their own life changes has theirs. If I can get an address, I’d like to send you a letter. Perhaps just the act of reading your name will give you the perspective that you belong right where you stand when you receive it. You belong right where you stand. It’s the color of the earth between your toes that changes, not the truth that you belong there to feel it.
I have no business telling what is, but I can imagine what is possible and in so doing, I live. I can live fully in this moment as an extension of what will become the next moment because of how well I examined this here and now. It’s as simple as that. I think. Of course, I could always change my mind.