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My beautiful, comfortable home is a disaster zone. A riveter blasts through concrete on my first floor. I am upstairs in my office, Barrett’s old room, jarred to the bone and unable to think. Doing “paper work,” paying bills, and struggling to calculate how many times 5 goes into 390 without a calculator! I wonder to myself does eight go into 40 five times? Really?
Robin Sharma is often quoted for the popular saying, “Change is hard at first, messy in the middle and gorgeous in the end.” Not many of us profess to liking change. We tend to fearfully avoid it, and stubbornly resist the inevitable waves that flow through our lives at various stages. Change demands a response from us we may or may not be prepared to give. Change, whether chosen or forced upon us can bring incredible opportunity for something greater to develop than we ourselves imagined. But why is it so uncomfortable, even when we know it is good?
The city pool closes today. Summer swimming in our pool is ending. I lay prone on a lounge chair, my first and last day at the pool this year. It’s a Sunday afternoon and my eyes are closed to the partly cloudy sky, the pale sunshine. My book lays unopened. Pool sounds take me back to all the beach days and pool days of my life. I was a “water baby”, loved to swim.
