We Are Made to Change

I walked slowly across the front lawn of my parents’ home holding my wife’s hand. For an August afternoon, the temperature was a bit cooler than usual. Our kids, in age order (coincidentally), made their way into the house ahead of us. We paused for just a moment to contemplate that it wasn’t that long ago that we were sitting on that porch, before we were married, talking until late into the night.

It was just yesterday that I helped my oldest child learn to tie his shoes.

Except that yesterday was actually thirteen years ago.

Now my oldest child is approaching twenty years old and lives in Los Angeles, about 700 miles from home.

The next oldest is now a senior in high school. In about a year, she plans to go to Tennessee for school. Tennessee is a lot farther than Los Angeles.

It’s hard to watch your children move toward independence in an indifferent world where the talking heads will try hard to fashion a future for them.

The saying, “change is inevitable,” has been echoed so frequently that it’s become trite, tired, even something to gloss over, yet it’s perhaps one of the few, real universal truths.

If it were possible to somehow be aware of everything that’s changing in our own lives, we don’t possess the capacity to get our arms around all that change. As I age, the chemical processes in my own body are changing so rapidly that not even the fastest and most powerful computers of our day can keep up with them. That’s why the evolution of disease outpaces our ability to cure them.

Scale from just one person to societal level and the amount of change occurring all the time is incalculable.

Framing it that way makes change sound like something we should fear. That’s not the case at all.

How we differ from all other species on the planet is a conversation for biologists and philosophers of which I am neither. There are, however, two unique differentiators that I know that separate us from other species: we both choose to change and possess the capacity to adapt to rapid change, even when it’s incredibly rapid. (Yes, I know I’m generalizing here and that there are things against which humans are also not very good at rapid adaptation.)

If an animal lacks the ability to adapt quickly and you remove enough of its natural habitats in a short timeframe, it will go extinct. Humans, however, have an innate capacity to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances. This is particularly true when there is massive-scale cooperation and collaboration. (Something we need a lot more of.)

The gurus tell us not to fear change. The talking heads tell us to be so afraid of anything that’s different from their version of reality that we should react, even violently, in defense of not-change; something along the lines of “be accepting of all. . .as long as their views line up with ours.”

The talking heads are totally wrong and the gurus are only partly right. Sometimes, the change we experience is of our own making and is welcomed with open arms. However, those are far fewer than the changes that are often imposed on us. In part, some of those that are imposed come about because of our choice of inaction.

(Oh no! Here comes another running story.)

I was on a solo run early one morning when it was still dark. I registered movement out of the corner of my eye, but it came so quickly that I couldn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t wearing headphones at the time, and the dog was on me without a sound.

I was lucky that time. The dog ended up being friendly but the encounter provided me with enough adrenaline that I had some of my best miles ever. (It’s funny. That dog ran with me for about four miles until I looped back into the neighborhood and it decided to go home.)

We need to remember (or maybe realize) that fear is often a useful emotion that tells us something about our circumstances. Not every dog is friendly, so it’s useful to approach any dog that’s not familiar with you with a degree of caution: that healthy blend of fear and common sense.

The change we control in our lives can be approached in the same way as the unfamiliar dog. Sometimes, we rightly back away because there are warning signs that if we stick our hand out, we’ll get bit. If it’s a friendly dog (and you’re not afraid of or allergic to dogs generally), you can enjoy petting it and getting slobbered on.

The changes we don’t control can also be compared with the dog, but they’re more along the lines of encountering a dog you can’t avoid. Sometimes, it’s going to be friendly. Sometimes, you’re going to get bit.

Even a welcomed change can bring a degree of fear along with the excitement. Unwelcome change is more often accompanied by a feeling of dread and much more fear.

Remember: both are instructive. It’s how we embrace the change, welcome or not, that is essential to what and how we learn from that change. To learn from change, we can’t hold on too tightly to what was. It’s okay not to forget the past, but we can’t continue to live in the narrative of the way things were. The first important lesson with any change is to make it meaningful. This is perhaps easier when we choose the change. For those changes imposed on us, this one will require more effort.

John C. Maxwell stated it well, “Change is inevitable. Growth is optional.” So, we may as well embrace the change — whatever it is — and learn from it.

I love dogs, and I learned that morning that even though I love dogs, I really don’t like when they sneak up on me quickly in the dark.