Change is hard for most of us, including me. Yet I’ve often run toward it – and usually without calamity.
Marching toward change at least provides the appearance of control. Or the illusion. Delusion fits too, sometimes.
It hardly matters. Change is coming for us anyway, in ways big and small.
Your favorite supermarket moves the pasta.
Beloved neighbors leave, and the newcomers don’t want to swap recipes.
Your employer dumps you to serve shareholder interests even as an HR hatchet says, “It isn’t personal.”
Your nation goes to war, upending the world economy.
A doctor says three scary words: “You have cancer.”
Change is always personal – and more so when its source is bigger or more distant and thus lies beyond even the illusion of control. I’ll find the pasta, eventually. I can’t make gas cost less, ever.
I can’t make our ever more hateful culture any more kind or gentle, except in the miniscule space I inhabit. I am a leaf against a hurricane.
So, we march on, toward uncertainty, pushing against or through change, hoping to avoid calamity.
I liked the show “Calamity Jane.” Maybe “Calamity Jeff” would be a sequel.
Change be us for sure.
And you avoided the cliche “change agent.”
Good work.
Calamity Jeff! Now that’s funny, Steve.