Even if Everything Changes

Nothing changes

It used to be that my circumstances dictated my state of being.

What another person did or didn’t do dictated my response to them… to life… to myself.

Sometimes I fixated on that one thing that would make me whole… those Adidas “shell-top” shoes when I was in 7th grade, for example.

Or when I was in high school- if I could just get pretty enough, if I could just make varsity, if I could just graduate and be an adult already.

Or when I was in college- if he would just love me back, if I could just get passing grades without going to class, if I could just figure out what career I wanted.

Or when I was out of college- if I could just figure out what career I wanted, if he would just propose already, if I could just be skinny again, like I was in college.

Or after I got married- if we could just make more money, if I could just stop drinking, if I could just lose weight, if I just didn’t have to work full-time.

If only.

If this.

If that.

If anything changed, I would change.

What I didn’t realize was that the very nature of the human experience on earth is change. It took me 30 years to pick up on that cliche “The journey is the destination.” I kept going from thing to person to thing to person thinking they or that was finally my El Dorado, the place that would finally make me happy. What also took me all these years to realize was that I would end up restless and frustrated either way, whether I got my desired outcome or not.

I continued to perceive that the grass was greener on the other side. I continued to pack my bags and head straight for it. As the years passed and I kept doing this, I started to get tired. I started noticing other people happy on their grass. They didn’t seem to want to leave. I started to feel like I was going in circles. It seemed like no matter what patch of grass I tried standing in, it didn’t feel natural. I started to drink more than just on the weekends. I really loved that because I could relax and feel ‘extra’ natural everywhere. I could finally like where I was because the liquor made me feel comfortable.

More, more, more.

My comfortable patch of grass was starting to turn brown. I felt too dizzy to pack my bags and look for greener grass. I thought if I could just drink more, maybe I can take a nap and God will send the rain, and I’ll wake up and everything will be green and fine again.

Be careful what you wish for.

I took many naps. The rain did come. It rained so much that my brown grass became wet mud around me. I started slipping away. I started to let the mud take me. I started to give up. I started to notice that no matter what changed or how it changed, I was still unhappy. My brown grass and wet mud started to infect the otherwise healthy, green grass of the family and friends around me. I genuinely wished they could just pick up their grass and move farther away, so they could live their lives without me. It was strange and annoying to me that they didn’t. We seemed to be unable to separate, intertwined in some sort of root system.

“Why do they still love me from their clear, green grass? Why do they talk to me like they talk to each other? Don’t they see my grass is brown? Don’t they notice the slopping pile of mud?”

Why doesn’t everybody just leave me?

Why don’t I just leave me?

Why don’t I just leave?

Photo by Jonas Weckschmied on Unsplash

Right then, I knew I had tried every possible road to happiness… even death.

I sat in purgatory, unable to live, unable to die.

There were no more patches of grass. There were no more doors around me to open. There was nothing. I had nothing.

I had one thing.

I had a choice. I could choose to stay there and suffer. Or I could stand up, even though I had nowhere to go.

I stood up.

When I stood up, I realized I was sitting on a door the whole time. There was one more door after all. It was right where I was. It was right where my own two feet were.

When I opened that door to where I was along, I wanted to stay there.

I started to understand why people liked their grass.

I could understand… it was under where I was standing.

My grass turned green again. My friends loved me and talked to me the same as when my grass was muddy and brown.

I began to get to know the me they loved all along. I stopped fighting her. I stopped packing my bags to run away from her. I finally stayed and got to know her. I finally started to see why my family and friends loved her no matter what. I started falling in love with her too. The more I loved her, the more I loved everyone else. The more I took care of her, the more I could give to everyone else.

The more I found her through the door, the farther I wanted to go. I started to see veins. I started to feel connected threads. I found the root system. I found passageways under the surface. I found the unseen nourishment that made me whole. It is everywhere I go because it’s inside of me. It is everyone I meet because it’s inside of them too.

The more I stay here in this nourishment, the more good change comes to me. I even have choices between different types of good change. I can see all the possibilities for this green grass of mine. I don’t necessarily want more of it. I don’t need it to grow taller or anything. No, what I’ve started to imagine is what else can grow here. I’m starting to see flowers and butterflies. I see birds and seeds and pollen and bees.

I begin to see how everything can change. I begin to let it happen naturally, from the root system.

Without packing my bags, my patch of grass starts to become a whole new place.

I am happy because I was loved all along.

I am happy because I am loved.

I was loved when my grass was green.

I was loved when my grass was brown.

I was loved when my grass wasn’t grass. It was mud.

I was loved.

I am loved.

I will be loved.

You see?

Even if everything changes, nothing changes.

And from that place, dear one, I can love you.

You were loved.

You are loved.

You will be loved.

And guess what?

Since it never changes, that means it can never end.

We get to go everywhere because we’re not going anywhere.