Excavation machines draw closer...bringing with them a sense of excitement as well as dread. Our entire street is being ripped to shreds, sewers and old still-wood pipes being replaced, and the whole road widened to palatial dimensions. We'll have a sidewalk on our side!
This morning, we were almost astounded to discover that as we showered they had torn up the intersection just down from us (about 2 lawn lengths away). The kids are in ecstasy - a whole summer of "mighty machines" - pull up the lawn chairs, deposit kiddie pool in front yard, and our entertainment for the next 2 months is covered!
An alarming apprehension settled in my gut for a few moments: how will we get in and out of our driveway? Where will we park our cars? What if they are broken into? How will I cart my work apparatus from house to trunk without losing breath and cookware? And almost as suddenly the sentiment disappeared.
But in that brief period of time I began to understand the inklings of anxiety a lot of people generate on a regular basis when faced with change of any kind. I embrace change (my husband might even claim I jump on it and wrestle it down just to be sure it sticks around) - having grown up in a family that moved homes and towns annually we had a choice to squeeze revision close and count our blessings for the upsides, or to smother ourselves in the depressing lack of stability. Of course there were moments when, jealous of those who had the same students in their kindergarten photo as in their grade 8 graduation, I wanted merely to be in one place for long enough to cultivate a garden let alone a friendship.
I would entreaty that this constant motion made me a better person - but in reality I have allowed it to mean only that I can't comprehend others' anxiety over any sort of change. Why do people freak out when we sing a new song on Sunday mornings at church? What's wrong with experimenting with a new recipe? Why shouldn't I try to grow watermelons in my garden? Why can't someone who never has had to grocery shop simply get used to it?
I hope the excavators dig up my seemingly lost sense of lightheartedness since my latest blogs seem imploringly depressing. And because my family is likely exasperated with hearing me mutter in a somewhat whiny whisper: "If you can't change something, change the way you think about it" (you know you say it often when your 2 year old rushes to finish it before you).
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