I found a shiny penny on the ground during a recent run, and I picked it up. I’m not a coin collector, or even a penny pincher, really; I just think that finding a penny is sort of lucky. Random coins end up in a small bucket on my husband’s nightstand. He’s a semi-serious coin collector, and he knows a valuable coin when he sees one. The problem is that he never has time to sort through the coins; our house is filled with shoebox-sized plastic bins filled with coins. I have brilliant ideas about sorting through one box a week and using the cast-off coins for something special, like buying a piece of art while on vacation. But so far, my ideas are falling on deaf ears.
Finding a coin always makes me pause. Everything sort of stops while I pick it up and examine the condition of the coin and the year is was created. It is unfathomable to consider the journey it took to land on my running path in a certain place on a certain day. Coins have extraordinary lives, when you think about it.
But there’s another type of change, and I’m in its gentle but firm grasp. I’m facing a life transition that feels so new and raw, I can’t even write about it yet. Like most people, I am unsettled by life shifts of any sort, even happy change. This detour is still so amorphous, I can’t yet discern whether it is happy or sad. It’s like driving down a road in early-morning fog; you get glimpses of what’s up ahead, but no clear view.
There are those who live thoughtfully in the moment, keeping tabs on how they feel, content with the process instead of the destination. Try as I might, I’m not that person. I’m a pull-the-trigger-and-move-as-fast-as-I-can kind of person. I have a saying that if you must walk through broken glass in bare feet, be sure to walk in a straight line!
I thrash and flail about the miserable unfairness of change. Remembering that change is the only constant in life seems trite, not helpful. But I have a few tricks up my sleeve to weather it all. I take time to have deep, meaningful conversations with my husband (though most of them involve a dog at the end of a leash). I remind myself that when I make a poorly thought-out decision, that the law of averages will catch up with me, and I’ll make some good ones in the future. I try to eat well and get seven hours of sleep every night.
Most of all, I pull on comfy workout shoes every single day, and I make sure they lead me outdoors. For at least a half hour every day, I’m not dwelling or obsessing about life transitions.
And, I make sure to keep my eye out for change.