Nothing is permanent.
This has been a recurring theme in my life this year, and it's nice to finally put it out in front of me after months of struggling to do so.
I don't like change, but I've experienced it in such abundance this year that I've become nearly paralyzed with apathy and inaction in response...As if refusing to actively participate in or accept said changes will somehow save me from further loss and disappointment.
I moved out of a home I lived in for 24 years. I've had and loved pets since I was 7 years old, and I now live in an apartment that won't allow them. My younger brother, whom I have been inseparable with since he was born, is moving 845 miles away. My job is changing. My body is changing. My bills are getting higher. There are people I used to be attached to like glue that I either barely talk to now or don't talk to at all anymore.
And to state the obvious, this is the first blog post I've written in two months. What's worse is that I'm not even sure if I want to be a professional writer anymore. I've said this out loud, and the words feel strange coming out of my mouth every time.
I'm not trying to say that change is bad or that impermanence is devastating. It can be of course, but it's also completely inevitable. It's been said and preached millions of times before, but I've floated through my life for years with the belief that if I stayed still and lived simply, I wouldn't be swept away by the waves of change. But now impermanence is the story of my life. And I've realized that if I continue to stay still and live simply, life and people will go on without me. I have no control over any of it.
I'm at a point in my life where I just really need to ask myself the hard questions and wonder if my reaction to the aforementioned changes has led to growth or failure. Or if this latest breakdown is merely a sign of a forthcoming breakthrough.
As always, I will write about it all.