Change
Form a military of peace and kill the king
Be a citizen of planet earth
Be a bigger man or woman ‘cause we all can change1
During this time, I am reflecting on many things: my present, my future, that of my family and friends.
“Change” is the keyword of these last few months and this past year in general. No, not “Change” because changes are relatively frequent in everyday life, often without us realizing it—like how we change our minds about a person, how we change our approach at work or in relationships, how we change our passions, clothes, hairstyles, and so on.
This past year has indeed been full of changes, events that have altered my life: the trip to Canada, the death of my wife’s grandfather—which I experienced, let’s say, in “second person,” having been by my wife’s side when her grandfather passed away—the pregnancy of my wife and the birth of my daughter. Add to that some changes in my environment and the organization of my work, and the list grows even longer.
Yet, as I wrote, the keyword is “change”: it’s not just about undergoing a series of changes that have altered my life; it’s not just about passively enduring these fluctuations and accepting to change my habits as one changes the brand of bottled water when the previous one is no longer on sale.
To truly change, the will and/or responsibility for the change one wants to implement is required; there are motivations and goals, or there are risks and losses to calculate. When a few years ago I was found to have high levels of triglycerides and cholesterol in my blood, I didn’t just follow a diet to “eat better,” but I changed my habits to try to bring those abnormal values back in line and drastically reduce the risk of future vascular diseases. Of course, I could have chosen to do nothing because, in any case, there are no guarantees, yet accepting this possibility of failure makes me realize today that I wanted to change back then.
Climate change, changes in political balances, changes in the leadership of one’s organization at work—these are all changes that we are more or less forced to endure, as if we had no other choice. Or maybe not.
The choice to stop using a polluting car and prefer a bicycle, the choice to stop drinking from single-use plastic bottles and start bringing a reusable water bottle to work, the choice to start writing a diary for the need to engage in an introspective activity, the choice to reduce the number of items in one’s wardrobe following a minimalist logic and try to sell what is no longer used. These are examples of choices that, from the first opportunity, do not immediately lead to a change—I could choose to drive tomorrow, grab a case of water the next time I go shopping, stop writing and abandon my notebook, compulsively buy new pants and t-shirts—and yet they are the proverbial “first step” that will lead us to total change if pursued with active motivation.
We are not statues; we are not destined for immutability, and I’m starting to notice this from the first white hairs in my beard and the astonishing speed at which my daughter is growing. No change lasts forever; in fact, we don’t even notice when change becomes the new status quo. That’s why I think we shouldn’t rush to change, but once the choice is made and the change begins, we must pursue it as long as we can.
Change should come naturally, like a drummer keeping time or a chef respecting the flavor of a dish: if change has to be self-imposed, then it’s better to accept the status quo. In my case, more often the opposite happens: the choice to change is stifled by my fears about how my life might go wrong, and so on. Fortunately, I can also be rational enough to defuse many of these fears on a purely theoretical level. Nevertheless, I have serious difficulty accepting being mocked or criticized by others for my choices, without realizing that every day I behave in ways dictated by the worst feelings (anger, jealousy, envy, pride, etc.) without thinking about it—there’s always a moment to change my ways, but the same goes for this mental “framework” that leads me to live with unnecessary worries.
Choosing to be simple, to reduce oneself to being oneself, and to remove the many distractions and masks we wear is a choice easier said than done, yet every first step can be the beginning of true change. At least, I hope this holds true for me.