Changing and evolution are a death.  We experience the death of who we were so we can welcome the next version of who we are.  Our society is incredibly adept at distraction, making us think that we need to constantly be on to the next big thing, the next decision, the next thing to do.  We don’t appreciate where we are at (most of us that is) and we are taught that we need to be bigger, better, and consuming more all the time.  So when things aren’t working how they used to and we have to slow down, we start to realize that things aren’t what they used to be.  I danced in the in between for so long, between decisive action and hesitation for years.  That’s a dangerous spot as well because we are content enough to not radically change anything we do but we are unsettled enough that we know something isn’t right.  I danced there thinking I new the way, knew all the steps until the walls started closing in.  At first it felt like a comfort thing.  Like the outside was falling away.  That soon shifted to feeling constrained.  And soon the walls were close enough that I couldn’t move had I wanted to.  But I could still breathe, I told myself.  And then the roof started collapsing as well. 

That is what we call rock bottom.  For years I tried over and over again to create what I thought I wanted, resurrected out of the ideas of my childhood and the emotions/dreams/feelings/expectations of everyone around me.  Coupled with low self-esteem and even lower self-confidence, the only thing we know is what others tell us to do and when we are praised for that, it’s a dangerous combination.  The feeling of contentment and fear of the unknown are powerful enough to persuade us that the familiarity is enough and we are happy.  That contentment is a drug and it isn’t who we are.  It’s who we tell ourselves we are.  It’s who we think we need to be to survive in this world, a world that thrives on distraction.  I started seeing people as they began to awaken from their sleep and I didn’t even know that’s what it was at the time.  They were just doing things differently and it seemed like they were happy.  When we see other possibilities we begin to wake up to what is possible for us.  We have to decide at that point if we are able to let go of what we know in favor of what we don’t.  In favor of feeling something different. 

To feel something different we must do something different.  We must extend patience with ourselves as we try something new.  We have to accept that there are things in this new way of being, even though we may not know everything about that way of being.  We have to trust that it is ok to not know and that we have the ability to figure it out.  If all we know is that we don’t want to feel how we do, that’s enough.  We have to be willing to put the past to rest.  We have to be willing to love who we were and appreciate where that version got us, but we have to devote time to being someone new.  And it is a learning curve.  It is a learning process.  We don’t suddenly wake up and are 21, or 40, or 60.  Although at times it feels like it.  But no, we spent that time in between learning new things and adapting to new habits.  We accept the things we learned and integrate it.  So much of this is repetitive, I know, but change isn’t linear.  We progress and we go back and we learn and we try again.  We know who we are based on what other people tell us, and we learn how to be someone else to express our truth based on how we feel, specifically what feels right.  Be patient as we learn to be someone else.  Even learning to ride a bike usually requires training wheels and life doesn’t come with that type of guidance.  So take it slow but assured, and we can put the pieces of us to rest that need to be and allow the rest to come alive.  If we want to be someone new, we have to live as someone new.