The needs of change.

Change is our constant in life. We know that. 

Mostly, we try to avoid it, sometimes we allow it, and occasionally, we really really want it.

We have this conflicted relationship with a concept that we know is and will always be part of our lives, and we witness ourselves being affected by it. Sometimes exhileratingly, sometimes painfully, sometimes regretfully.

But do we ever ask what change itself actually needs to thrive?

The default belief is that in order to change something, we need to make it happen. We are talking changes of jobs, changes in relationships, changes in our living situations, beliefs, mindsets.

What if we switch perspectives for a moment and assume that instead of us being the active “changer” of our lives, we let change itself happen for us?What would it need from us in order to do its job well, in our favour, working with us, instead of getting us into situations we haven’t wished for?

We might start by looking a little closer at its character.

Change is actually a rather shy thing. It doesn’t want to be put in the spotlight, and even less to be pressured forward, or being told what to do, and where to go.

It’s almost like a young child that wants to be close to you, yet discovers the joy of being independent, wanting to act by itself, on its own authority, but under the gentle safety of your presence.

When we are trying to command it, it becomes defiant and stubborn. When we ignore it, it runs off by itself and does all kind of weird things in order to get our attention back.

How would we deal with a child like that? How would we work with this energy that is such a crucial part of our lives, knowing that it needs a special kind of care? A child that wants to run with us, but not be dragged, or touched, or called?

For starters, let’s have a look into the environment it needs.

Change wants to work under peaceful conditions. It is waiting for the stage to be cleared and the audience to relax. It doesn’t want to be put under pressure, and it doesn’t want to be told when to show up. 

Imagine a huge aquarium with floating objects in it. 

You are clearing the glass walls, so that it can see freely in all directions. You relocate some of the stones on the floor in an aesthetically pleasing way. You check on the roots of the water plants growing from the floor and add some fertilizer.

You start to warm up the water a little bit. Cozy, easy. You take a slow swim through the aquarium yourself, checking from the bottom to the surface, taking in details. 

You take a deep breath in, then you exhale it all out.

Water bubbles.

Then you invite change into the scene. Openly. Warmly.

You let it move freely while you let your focus follow the objects in your aquarium. The movements of the currents. Some other fish. The sensation of the water. You might linger here and there to get a better look.

At one point you might just close your eyes and feel into the blue.

This is when change comes to act. 

It might be spontaneous and quick, or slow and thorough. It might flow through the scene moving little stones around to different places, or it might create a channel strong enough to carry away a few objects altogether.

You open your eyes and might not even notice it was there at first. 

You look around in your aquarium. Does it look different? Does it feel different?

You might just take another swim to double check.