I do not always deal with change gracefully. I have a tough time with upheaval and disruption in my routine. I may transform, briefly and without much warning, into Grumpy McRageface. I have been known to throw things (though never at anyone… so far).
So naturally, I married a military man, thus ensuring that my world would get shaken up like a tacky Navy-themed snow globe with every PCS move. Moreover, I married a pilot, which means that not only do we not find out what he’s doing tomorrow until the afternoon or evening before, but even the official flight schedule often proves to be merely a plan from which to deviate. This set-up is less than ideal for my constitution.
I wish I could be as sanguine about change as some of the more resilient military spouses I know. These are the kind of people who thrive on change, who not only meet the challenges of continual transmogrification, but are actually excited about it. They’d get bored if things fell into a dependable routine, whereas I would be ecstatic.
Sometimes I get a flicker of a hint that perhaps I am finally adapting to having to adapt and re-adapt so often. In our most recent move, I found myself feeling eager for the adventure more often as I felt out-of-whack from the process of dismantling our life, packing it up, and starting over someplace new. Our Jewish tradition has some advice for how to deal with a change of location over which we have no control, and we find it in the person of Abraham. When God said “Lekh-lekha, go forth,” he trusted that the uprooting of his life from all he had known would wind up being a good change.
I need to trust that the changes my future holds will also turn out for the best.
#BlogElul, the brainchild of Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, invites participants to chronicle the month leading up to the Jewish High Holy Days through blog posts, photos, and other social media expressions.