by Angela Clark
David Bowie? Anyone? Anyone?
I love the change of seasons. Seeing the colors pop out in spring, the snow fall in winter, and all the myriads in between. For me, the idea of change goes hand in hand with impermanence. While changes can be beautiful and welcomed, they can also be scary and destabilizing.
I was commenting to my class the other day about when the time came to talk about painting the studio, the idea of changing the colors of the wall was so exciting and inviting. Redo the studio, make it pretty once again – fun change. Looking at the rainbow of paint swatches, seeing all the possibilities that lay ahead, I felt lots of excitement and a sense to charge-forward. Set the date, close the studio, and paint – woo hoo!
Then Christina painted the three samples of purple on the red wall for us to get a better idea of what it would look like and my heart started to sink. Although the purple was pretty, the red wall was the original. It’s what we opened with, it’s seen us through yoga classes, hurricanes, parties, and more. Why, all of a sudden didn’t I want this change to happen? But the date had been scheduled and everybody else seemed fine with moving ahead, so I felt as though, “I too must go forth.”
It was a few days before I got to see the end result of our decision and WOW. What a beautiful purple wall! What a beautiful, touched up, cleaned up studio. It looks fresh and bigger and even more inviting than before. I was/am so happy that we stuck to our decision to make the change or better yet to embrace the change that was inevitable. We knew it was coming; we all saw it. The walls had been bruised, the red wall paint chipping off – a change had to happen and we went with the flow. And I’m so happy we did.
All this got me thinking about how often we are unprepared when life decides to shift the winds. We feel caught off guard or thrown for a loop. I mean as far as we were concerned, the studio needed to be touched up. We were prepared for the expense of doing it. But how do we embrace a change that is unwanted or painful or that we are just not prepared for?
I’ve found that through practice, patience, and trust I can accept the change. Albeit not always with the grace I would like to have, but that’s where the patience comes in. Patience for myself. It’s the trust that seems to be the trickiest for me, trusting that I will make the right choices after the shift, trusting that the shift was inevitable.
And then I have to wonder; perhaps, if we are paying close enough attention, we might actually see or sense that a big change is going to take place. Maybe one not so obvious as holes in the studio wall, but more from an intuition, a shift in consciousness.