My greatest fear when I was 10-years-old
(I took this for you at our cabin last weekend when I got up to watch the sunrise.)
It’s the last week of school in our home. Here in Minnesota, we start school after Labor Day, so we don’t end until the second week of June. I really don’t mind it - it’s nice to get in what feels like an extra week at the end of the summer.
But the last few weeks of school create a heightened level of chaos for all of us. (You working parents might feel my pain with the overwhelm that happens every May/June at the end of the school year).
What’s happening in my world:
- So many year-end events (assemblies, concerts, awards nights, graduation parties, and on and on)
- Memorial Day weekend at the cabin
- Our daughter’s birthday on May 27 (lots of fun but right at the end of the busy month - and we threw a “Garden Party” for 17 of her closest friends)
- The end of the law school year and the well-being course I teach (including grading final papers and submitting final grades)
- The busiest month yet in my business in the month of May
And now the transition into the summer schedule for our family…
- No more regularity of buses coming at specific times every morning and returning at specific times in the afternoon
- No more predictable school day schedule with the kids occupied for at least seven hours a day while my husband and I work
- A carefully orchestrated schedule of summer work plans for my teenagers, trips out of town, college visits, and more
- Lots of changes are happening in the next two weeks.
When I was 10-years-old, someone asked me my greatest fear.
And like the 50-year-old trapped in a 10-year-old body that I was, I answered, “Change. Change is my greatest fear.”
I’ve always longed for stability. Security. Predictability. And while I can handle pressure, chaos, and unpredictability rather well when I need to, it’s definitely not my favored way of doing things.
So 10-year-old me really, really loved the perceived security and predictability of the small town I grew up in, surrounded by multiple generations of family, the same rhythms of each school year, each calendar year. Such familiarity. Such predictability. So thinking of that steadiness being disrupted scared me.
Now I’m older by a few decades. And change still isn’t my favorite.
The grandparents that I took for granted as a 10-year-old are almost all gone, but for my 90-year-old grandmother.
My oldest daughter just finished her first year of college, and my two younger kids will be seniors in high school next year.
People are getting older. People are moving away. The 20’s have become the 30’s and now the 40’s. The clock keeps ticking.
What changes are happening for you?
Changes in your role, responsibilities, or a promotion?
The end of the semester and school year?
Summer associates starting and a summer program to run?
Family commitments, schedule changes, evolving responsibilities?
Aging parents or other loved ones you care for?
Evolving client demands, worries about the economy, or a changing practice?
So what to do in seasons of change? Embrace the change.
As Abraham Maslow said: “In any given moment we have two options: to step forward into growth or step back into safety.”
We often talk about the discomfort of growth. Well, change brings discomfort, and it also brings growth opportunities.
Opportunities to learn, to grow, to become the next version of ourselves, to reinvent parts of our life, to build upon our hard-earned perspectives and life lessons, and to enjoy the present moment rather than clinging to the past and the familiar. As Herman Hesse said: “Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go.”
Are you afraid of change? Are you clinging to the familiar?
Do you think that holding on makes you feel strong, when actually the stronger option that leads to your growth is letting go and stepping into the unfamiliar, the unknown?
As the seasons change and your rhythms change this summer, consider it a metaphor for rolling with the inevitable change in life.
How can you embrace it? How can you make the most of it? How can you enjoy this moment for what it is rather than wishing it were different?
Wishing you an amazing summer full of unexpected delights, learning opportunities, and fresh perspectives.