Pattiabulary: "Change"

Change -- noun: The act, process, or result of altering or modifying. 2. The replacing of one thing for another; substitution. 3. A transformation or transition from one state, condition, or phase to another.

"The only constant thing in life is change."

How true. However, in my life, change is so constant as to be a relentless and ever-present force. And I'm not just talking about changes around me. I'm talking about changes within me, changes that I create on my own and changes that are created for me or to me by others. I suppose all people can claim the same, but somehow it seems to me that capital-C Change has been the defining element of my life, more so than usual for most people.

There has never been a time in my life when the tides of change were still. If it isn't major life-altering changes like moving from one province to another, or changing jobs or going into or out of a relationship, it's inner changes, like becoming interested in something or losing interest in something or deciding I feel some way about something or deciding I don't feel that way after all, or loving someone or not loving them anymore.

And if some kind of change isn't actively in play in my life, I will create it. I don't even realize I'm doing it most of the time.

It seems that constancy is not something I can ever hope for.

For a short while, back in the 80s or 90s, I was seeing a counsellor for some reason or other. Stress-related issues probably. The counsellor asked me how did I deal with change. I thought about it for a moment, and then I said what is probably the most profound and true thing I've ever said or thought in my life: "Change is my salvation."

"Change is my salvation."

Sal·va·tion -- noun: Preservation or deliverance from destruction, difficulty, or evil.

Now, there has been astonishingly little destruction, difficulty and evil in my life. At least on a large scale. Like everyone, I've been through difficult times, some more difficult than others. But I have never lost a parent, sibling or close friend. I have never suffered serious injury or illness - nor has anyone close to me. There have been scares, but thankfully, everyone is okay. I have never experienced any kind of natural or man-made disaster. Perhaps the only destruction I could name would be the destruction of my family when I was very small and my father moved away. I'm sure there have been been more deep and lasting impacts of that than I will ever know (perhaps it was the birthplace of my change-lust). And Evil? No. At least no more than most women encounter in their lives, as the object of unwanted attention. No harm done, though, and in fact, my resulting heightened alertness to possible lurking danger can only be a good thing.

So, does change deliver me from destruction, difficulty or evil? Is unrelenting change necessarily a bad thing? Does it signify some kind of inner strength or weakness? Fear or courage? To all those questions, I think the answer is "yes and no."

I know that my desire for change has often been a way to run from things that were making me less content with my life. If I didn't like my job, I would change jobs rather than try to find a way to improve my situation at the old job. If I was having trouble with a boyfriend, I would leave him, rather than try to work it out. Perhaps in that way change keeps me happy - or at least keeps me from being unhappy.

My desire for change has also led me into wonderful experiences, such as moving to British Columbia for seven years, even though I had no job there, and no place to live. It allowed me to accept an offer to go to Halifax to work for a year, even though I didn't know a soul there and didn't even know if I was up to the job before me. My desire for change took me out of an unhappy marriage that was slowly strangling the essence out of me. My desire for change brought me back to Ottawa, where I have been happy ever since.

But my willingness to change so easily has also probably drained some of the joy from my life, because I don't stick to things long enough to really see them bear fruit. Perhaps if I had stuck with my husband longer, worked harder and longer to save the marriage, we would still be together. I still have never met a man I was as content and comfortable being with as I was with him. Perhaps if I was not in such a hurry to change all the time I might never have moved to BC. I might have stayed in Toronto and had a completely different and wonderful life there. Perhaps I would have more finished projects rather than half-finished ones.

If I didn't crave change so much, if it wasn't part of my DNA, if it wasn't constantly scratching at my brain, demanding that I look the other way and see what's down that road, maybe I would have found more contentment in life. Or maybe not. Maybe I am not built for constancy. Or maybe my only constancy - the constant need for change - will lead me eventually to the one thing that change has never given me: a passion.

I have loved. I have been a friend. I have had a semi-successful 27-year career. I have pursued hobbies and interests. I have enjoyed this thing or that thing. But never has anything...anything...been passionate, at least not for more than a few weeks or months.

Is that because change has never let me dive deep enough into anything before yanking me up and putting me down in some other physical, emotional or intellectual location? Or is it because change has just not put me down in quite the right place yet? Will I ever find the elusive passion that keeps me wandering? If I ever do find it, will my Change-lust allow me to stay with it, or at least bring it along as I am plucked up and dropped elsewhere like a dandelion seed on a light breeze?

But that is not a good analogy. Even dandelion seeds take root somewhere.