The Excitement of Change

I'm so excited. And I just can't hide it. I'm about to lose control, and yes....I think I like it.

What, pray tell, has me quoting that ancient Pointer Sisters ditty and doing my little 80's dance these days? Change, that's what, or at least the prospect of change. Or maybe the decision to make a change, or simply watching the unfolding of change. Either way, ch-ch-ch-changes have me smiling. Some would (accurately) say I am beaming. I hear it most every day at work now. "Paul, why are you so happy?" "Paul, why are you in such a good mood?" "Paul, stop smiling so much!" (What can I say? There are a few haters out there.)

The reality is nothing has changed yet.  But somehow, everything has changed.

The other day someone asked me if it was a hard decision to leave Starbucks after nearly nine years. My knee-jerk reaction was to let out a guffaw so loud and harsh it even startled me a little, followed by a resounding "NO!". But within seconds, I gathered myself and thought about it. Um, YES. It had been a tough decision, one that I felt so powerless to make for as long as I can remember. But now? Hell, no. It was about as easy a decision as whether or not to eat that last piece of chocolate sitting in the fridge. Chomp. Gulp. All gone.

So what changed? I'm not sure, exactly. But something did.

Something had to have shifted in order for me to finally let go. Herein lies the mysterious beauty of change. My readiness snuck up on me, or so it seemed. It is always this way. One day you're slinging lattes as if resigned to the drudgery that comes with such a self-imposed life sentence, and the next day you are telling everyone where you are on the "countdown" to your last day, and wondering exactly how many more of those damn caffeine bombs you will have to make before D-day finally arrives. I love the unexplainability of it all. There is no reasoning necessary, no justifications, no nothing. It all just is.

But truth be told, such decisions never really sneak up on you.  Change seems to build, sometimes so slowly, so methodically, so quietly under the radar of consciousness, that it can spring up on you like one of those old jack-in-the-box toys. Man, I never liked those things.  But to continue the analogy, that dastardly little puppet doesn't ever pop out of his hiding place unannounced. You have to turn the crank to make it happen. Change sort of reminds me of that toy, only without the accompanying carnival music and (thankfully) without that little bugger scaring the holy hell out of you after an unspecified amount of turns of the metal lever. In life, every decision is a turn of the crank, no matter how small. It is only a matter of time before change has to pop up.  And even though we have been turning the crank ourselves the whole time, change still manages to surprise us when it finally appears, if only a little.   

From where I currently sit, with my present-day life sandwiched somewhere between the old and new, I guess it doesn't matter how I got here. I'm here, period. More specifically, today at work I was feeling about as free as I have ever felt behind that counter. I was laughing. I was chatting uncontrollably.  I was in the groove. I was totally feeling it, as long as "it" refers to a joie de vivre that seems more commonplace lately than anytime in recent memory.   But nothing lasts forever.  As such, every time I felt compelled to complain, bitch, or go off on someone during the less joyous times, I stopped myself to deliver a reminder: it just doesn't matter anymore. It actually never did. 

Now, I get to retrain myself.  I get to disrupt the old line of thinking, the old tape that wants to run through my head, advising me to get angry, frustrated, or irritated that this person or that person isn't cooperating with me. To get defensive if someone thinks I am slacking. Who cares! None of it means a hill of beans. I know this. But if it truly doesn't matter anymore, then why react? Habit I guess, and not a very good one at that.

Perhaps even more than any upcoming adventures, I am most excited about letting go of old ways. Not to be the master of the obvious here, but there is something so utterly refreshing about becoming unstuck. It is downright intoxicating at times, this realization that I don't actually have to do anything I don't want to do. Why this is news to me, I have no idea. But it's got me buzzing from the inside out.

Not a day goes by that I don't have a conversation with someone that lifts both parties high into the stratosphere of good feeling. Not a day goes by where I don't challenge some old line of reasoning floating through my mind, question my own fears, or see how senseless (and difficult) it has become to hold onto anything that doesn't serve me anymore. Not a day goes by where I don't exalt in gratitude, thankful beyond words that I am seeing things differently, thankful that I have choices and, most of all, thankful that I am choosing to do what feels right for me. I know this all sounds very simple, yet it can be so tremendously hard to trust, and so terribly difficult to follow.  Trust me, I know. 

Change is never easy, no matter how much we think we are ready. Perhaps this is why the choice alone to plow ahead and explore the unknown is cause for celebration. Listening to my heart and shedding some old skin is very exciting. And why not get excited about life? It's contagious, I tell you. I just can't hide it. Why should I try?  I may be about to lose control, but I most definitely like it. What's not to like, right? 

Amen, Sisters.