For some reason, I dislike change, which is an odd thing to dislike, as it is the only constant in my life. As Stephanie and I come to closing night in this townhouse, I think about change. Maybe too much. When Stephanie and took our first road trip together, before we were dating, we went to Reno. (We both have family there, it’s not what you think.) I learned about her life as a teacher and I thought how wonderful would it be to have a classroom for thirty years and never change.
My family moved into the house I grew up in when I was 14 months old, so the legend says, and it was my home until my 18th birthday. I moved 5 times over the next five years or so (apartment in Reno, apartment in Beaverton, house in Portland, room in Portland, apartment in Portland … yeah, 5 moves in 5 or 6 years.) When we got married we moved into an apartment that was hell and high water from everything except Stephanie’s job, and I was fired a few months before the wedding, so our options were limited. We lived there for ten years. We moved to Southwest Portland, and two months before our ten-year anniversary in this place, we received notice that we had to vacate by November 3rd. (The place was sold, so we weren’t being evicted; the new owner plans on living in this half of the duplex.)
So we did the most sensible thing we could: We panicked. Well, we also started house hunting because we’d actually been thinking about it for a long time. And today we signed the papers and some time on Thursday the county will record the transaction, and we’ll be homeowners.
If we weren’t so scared of change, we’d be doing the happy dance.
So everything will be different. Waking up will be different. Eating will be different. For two days next week I’ll actually have a commute back to this place because we won’t have internet at the new place. Everything will change.
And that’s the way of life. Oh, sure, I can run through my rose-tinted memories and think how nice life was when I was a kid because nothing changed, but that’s a myth I tell myself. Every day at school was something new to learn (or in my case, resist learning) and every day on summer break had new possibilities (and travel vacations and church camp). There was never any reason for every day to be the same back then (because they really weren’t), and there isn’t any reason for it now.
What about COVID-19? The Lockdown? Being in the same place all day, every day? It’s monotonous! True, but there is still a chance for new things, if you let them. There are people who have taken this forced grounding to learn new hobbies, or pick up interests that their schedules shuffled into the background. Even the ones who say “I’m curling up under the covers with wine/tea/cocoa and watching movies/reading books” will have different movies to watch, different books to read, and different teas to drink. It will change.
Is it change that a man fears? Why, what can have come to be without change, and what is dearer or more familiar to Universal Nature? Can you yourself take your bath, unless the firewood changes? Can you be nourished, unless what you eat changes? Can any other service be accomplished without change? Do you not see that it is precisely your changing which is similar, and similarly necessary to Universal Nature?
Marcus Aurelius, The Meditations 7.18 (Trans. by A. S. L. Farquharson)
Change is the way of everything. It is how the Universe works. It is life.
Still, packing is tiring.