Swaying in Sea Change

The Schooner Hjørdis sails across the shore near Artists Point in Grand Marais, Minnesota.

Change is on my doorstep.

She’s been there for some time, promising to push with gale force winds and flood the foundations if I don’t let her in. She’s offered intriguing ideas, fresh perspectives, and new adventures, luring me into a space that is completely different from where I currently stand.  She’s whispered of sweet floral scents on the breeze and calm waters in an aesthetically appealing  bay. She’s waxed poetic about sailing ships and invigorating new starts just beyond the horizon.

Yet, I haven’t been very receptive.

From evening excitements and weekend resets, to daunting challenges in new locations that span weeks, months or years, I’ve turned change away. Of late, I’ve stared idly at all she has to offer, admiring her potential through a narrow pane of glass. Instead of accepting her, I’ve let her fend for herself, waiting alone in the cold. Or the hail. Or the dangerous heat. Whatever weather this summer’s decided to bear down on us.

I’ve started living my life in a protective state, sealing in what is rare and beautiful, and trying to sustain a lifestyle that is standard and safe. Perhaps it’s a reaction to an era that’s unfit for a bleeding heart – an era where little makes sense and our society continues to regress. Perhaps it’s a reaction to the personal confrontations – the routine assertions that those who care about sensitivity shouldn’t speak up. Perhaps it’s a lack of trust – a confession from a weakened soul that the heart can only take so much.

Or maybe it’s just fear.

Sure, there are reasons I’ve stayed tucked behind the door. My life is not without its woes. The constant struggle for stability, the encroaching student loan debt, the crumbling shell of my car. All I have to do is look up from my spot in the foyer, to see limitations scattered on the front lawn.

As an archer under the Zodiac, these factors cripple me. They break the arrows in my quiver, and leave me to my own devices, when I would rather tie a rope to a spear and hold on tight, trusting that one true shot could let me soar through the cosmos, bound to discover something new. At ease in my own foyer, the quiver is empty. The arrows broken or cast out on the front steps.

Where change awaits.

If life has taught me anything, it’s that we cannot live out our time on Earth ruled by fear. Or worse, governed by fear. We must resist the temptation to stamp out our strong values. We have to try to slow the realist’s vision of the future from unfolding, unanswered. If we don’t challenge our own perceptions, we’re closing the door on ourselves. Our own growth. Our own progress. Our own change.

So, the next time she comes knocking, I’m going to take a chance. Answer the call. Open the door. Listen to change.

If I face her with an eager soul and an open heart, maybe by this time next year, I will find myself in a new place. Sailing across a beautiful bay.

 

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One response to “Swaying in Sea Change

  1. Pingback: melissa f. kaelin·

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