I've been thinking a lot recently about change, its meaning, its purpose, its aftereffects. My own personal battle with and against change is complicated. Growing up, anyone could probably tell you how much I despised change in all its forms. Most of all, I hated life-altering change. The kind that rips your life into little shreds and expects you to form a new picture out of the unrecognizable pieces. In my life, this change came in the form of the constant and dreaded moves my family would take every couple of years. We were a family of gypsies, and believe me when I tell you, it was not romantic, mysterious, or even remotely something to be wished for. Without a homeland, without that geographical center with which is identify with, I often felt lost and alone.
Growing up I hoped so much for consistency that I actually believed it was what could and would make me happy with my life. The funny thing about life, though, is that those things that made you who you are today, even the things you fought against, will always be a part of you, no matter how hard you try to push them out of existence. It took me a long time to realize that change was my biggest consistency, and that it, more than a lot of the things I wanted and dreamed for, had come to define who I was as an individual.
Which brings me to where I am now. After living in Singapore for five months, I, for perhaps the first time in my adult life, made the consciouses choice to facilitate the specific change that I have been fighting my whole life against. And now I am sitting here, once again in Utah of all places, knowing full well that I chose to be here, I chose to pick up and leave. And I didn't dread it. I didn't resent it. I wanted it. And I wanted it bad.
Who knows? Maybe my lack of landedness has create a monster I will never be able to rid myself of. Maybe change will really haunt me all my life. But then again, maybe change will be the shade that makes life worth living.