Sometimes when you stop to breathe, all you want to do for a while is breathe.
As important as breathing is, that’s probably OK.
Sometimes when you stop to breathe, all you want to do for a while is breathe.
As important as breathing is, that’s probably OK.
The trouble with comfort is that it’s comfortable. Change is very uncomfortable, which is why we avoid it. Systems tend to attain equilibrium and stay there until disturbed by an outside force. (Yes, I know that’s a classical way of thinking. Don’t argue with me yet.)
Relationships do the same thing.
I was talking with a friend earlier this week who seems to be facing this situation. This friend just ended (for sure this time) an on-again, off-again relationship, and is now facing the prospect of trying to be friends with the ex. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt and found it was full of holes that took a long time to patch up. The trouble is, the ex is also the closest friend. My friend faces a rough time, I think, in the effort to attain a new equilibrium, which will require a great deal of outside energy (endless, emotion-laden talks about why they won’t work as a couple) to attain.
But growth comes from change. Systems achieve new states of equilibrium. People grow individually through hard work, thought, and action. Relationships balance in new, often unexpected ways, ultimately leading us toward who we can fully be.
The pain and discomfort of loss and change make us radiant and perfect our humanity.
I had the energy and creativity to say something insightful earlier today. I spent it frivolously, and this is all I’ve left. Maybe that’s enough.
About a week ago, I received a phone call from an associate of one of my consulting clients (for those who don’t know, I occasionally do web work), for whom I have created and continue to periodically maintain two websites.
The referral was a gentleman who sells cookies and cakes at a local weekend market, and, despite several wholesale accounts and an in-progress trademark and recipe copyright, he doesn’t yet have a web presence. So he asks me, in all seriousness, if I’d be willing to design and build him a website in exchange for. . . dough.