The Nature of Change

So, I've been thinking about human nature.

We seem to be able to interpret the same events with wildly differing perspectives; even within ourselves. We may look at a trauma or a drama that comes into our lives as the end of the world... or possibly a new beginning.

And I think it goes beyond our mood or distance from the event. Wounds heal. Anger ebbs. Moods change. Those are superficial reads. This is more visceral. More basic to our humanity. Universal. It has more to do with our fight or flight instincts than our actual thought processes.

Have you noticed how everyone claims to hate change? We grouse about everything. From the Coca Cola formula to new car styles. From the price of gas to this week's Pizza Hut specials. I'm still pissed off that they don't make Buckwheats cereal anymore. What's it been? Thirty years?

And yet...

The best times of my life have occurred during change. High school, the birth of my sons, selling the house and moving 1,200 miles to take a new job. Changing careers, again. Changing my mind.

The challenge and the excitement of new horizons and unknown adventures have always been a lure for people everywhere and everywhen. When primitive man ventured into that next valley he didn't know what he would find. Yet his curiosity moved him forward towards danger. And he felt alive. And we're still pushing beyond the visible horizons today. We've exchanged the wooden club for hard drives but whether we're tripling the capacity of a microchip or are preparing for a return to the moon, mankind never feels so alive as when it seeks out the new beginnings. The next adventure.

That bring me back to the beginning of this piece. The duality of our nature. To fight or flee.

I had a fair number of changes in my life over the past half dozen years. I didn't like any of them. I had some health issues, I retired before I really wanted to, I sold a house I loved, and I had a marriage of thirty-five years end. It alters your perspective. (I don't find myself haunting the cereal aisle looking for Buckwheats as often as I used to.)

But I recently learned why I've been discontent. Why I've resisted the changes. I have been fleeing. I had chosen not to fight. I was not looking for the unknown adventure to be found over the next horizon but was returning to my cave in fear of the unknown. I truly believed it was over for me. The stars were winking out one by one as the darkness engulfed me.

But what I had failed to realize was humanity's capacity to adapt. It is a hardwired imperative.

Eventually I realized that the stars also go away because of the dawning day. And that it is much easier to see the far horizons in the new light. So here I stand, wondering what's over that next ridge.

And why the hell it took me so long to wonder about it.