One of the reasons I want to write about change is because I am having so much trouble making change. I’m one of those vinyl records where the needle gets stuck from too many plays and now skips to that all too familiar groove. Which is weird. Most of my life has been nothing but change. I left the law for a crazy career in writing. I raised two kids, which is like playing The Game of Life, wack-a-mole style, trying to keep on top of the next challenge. Even in my childhood, chaos reigned. I was born in Havana, Cuba, and my parents immigrated to California via Spain as political refugees when I was five.
And I don’t buy the idea that because of my earlier chaos I somehow crave stability because I thrived in chaos. I was that person who hungered for the next challenge. I was easily bored, and, if anything, I had trouble with the follow-through. The only things that have kept my interest long term are my husband, my writing, and my kids. My list of hobbies over the last 20 years is eclectic and embarrassingly long: dog shows, rabbit rescue, Lancôme cosmetics, beanie babies, Fisherman crotchet, NFL pick ’em to name a few. I plunged into each with obsessive enthusiasm only to reach pseudo-expert status and like the bubble in the lava lamp, reach the surface and, pop, I move on to my next would-be passion.
That hasn’t happened in a while. The last five years my interest has settled like silt into drinking fine wine and watching television. I feel as if I’ve practically built a womb for myself on my couch with my dogs. And while others, my husband in particular, covet that womb, making sly comments like, “I wish I could spend the day drinking and watching Netflix,” my response is always the same. No. No, you don’t. Because I’m not just visiting this place. I’m not taking some much needed time off to rest and relax. I am stuck here. This is quicksand. And I need to get out.
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
And I don’t buy the idea that because of my earlier chaos I somehow crave stability because I thrived in chaos. I was that person who hungered for the next challenge. I was easily bored, and, if anything, I had trouble with the follow-through. The only things that have kept my interest long term are my husband, my writing, and my kids. My list of hobbies over the last 20 years is eclectic and embarrassingly long: dog shows, rabbit rescue, Lancôme cosmetics, beanie babies, Fisherman crotchet, NFL pick ’em to name a few. I plunged into each with obsessive enthusiasm only to reach pseudo-expert status and like the bubble in the lava lamp, reach the surface and, pop, I move on to my next would-be passion.
That hasn’t happened in a while. The last five years my interest has settled like silt into drinking fine wine and watching television. I feel as if I’ve practically built a womb for myself on my couch with my dogs. And while others, my husband in particular, covet that womb, making sly comments like, “I wish I could spend the day drinking and watching Netflix,” my response is always the same. No. No, you don’t. Because I’m not just visiting this place. I’m not taking some much needed time off to rest and relax. I am stuck here. This is quicksand. And I need to get out.
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
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