Saturday, January 31, 2009

The Other Side of the River

An inevitable part of life is transition, whether from one height to another, as we grow, from one location to another, as we relocate, or from one image to another, as we change. And may I remind you that "the only thing constant is change" ?

Part of this change--specifically learning how to change--serves as a protective mechanism. This is not unlike an evolutionary modification described by Charles Darwin, when he studied how physical changes in a species (such as larger wingspan or the ability to camouflage) reset the species' genetic makeup and help insure survival.

Humans don't adapt by changing body parts. This takes millennia, not a few decades. Instead, we change by adapting our image to the surrounding world in a way that maximizes our comfort, safety, and success--maybe by developing better interpersonal skills, so we can make new friends in a new setting (a new job, a new school, a new city) or perhaps by changing our "look" (dressing differently when we move to a new area of town, for example from swank Sutton Place to the cooler-than-cool West Village in New York City).

Is transition an enjoyable and painless process? Not really, because truth be told, emotional and social inertia is somewhat reassuring. All of us can get used to unpleasantness, stagnancy, or "a routine" and we may not want to summon up the energy, self-awareness, and courage to change. How many times have you been in a situation that was quite negative but you didn't want to look for an alternative (job, friend, home) because you'd "gotten used to" a modicum of unhappiness and dissatisfaction--or loneliness? Did you convince yourself that being unfulfilled was easier than trying for something better? Such is the "personal myth" of people trapped in go-nowhere jobs, dead-end relationships, social isolation, or, as far as this diet-doctor is concerned, obesity.

People who have forged a successful path though life avoiding its many physical, psychological, and social obstacles have made the ability to change, to transition, a useful and oft-called-upon skill. They upgrade their appearance frequently, watching the latest fashions and choosing the best, most au courant look. Their hairstyle reflects the latest trends; their conversations include the most interesting current subjects; they make new friends gracefully, slowly, and sincerely.

No one is incapable of making such a transition. Conversely put, we all must learn this essential skill and learn not to fear change. Beyond your current surroundings, whether geographical or emotional, are new opportunities for personal enhancement, upward mobility, and fun. By working on improving your weak points (whether in appearance or behavior--or just weight) a better version of you will emerge, one which will be more capable of success and more attractive to the outside world. Surely you don't think you're a "finished product." On the other hand, it's best to believe that you are "a work in progress" and strive daily to add embellishments of every type.

And when the time of transition comes, and you might not recognize it, the hallmark will not be something you see but something that the outside world sees in you: a new friendship might suddenly blossom, for example, someone very special that might have forever remained a stranger or a missed opportunity for intimacy. But once that transition occurs and your life becomes happier and the sun shines brighter, you will never want to reverse the process, go back into your shell, and return to a life of comfortable stagnancy.

I've likened such a transition to crossing a river on a raft. Once you've summoned up the courage to make that journey and made the necessary changes in appearance and behavior to become a better version of yourself, you will arrive on the other side of the river and step into a new world. You might be tempted to look back and see where you came from, but if all the right variables align, you will never want to go back again. Now on the other side of the river, you can take your first steps inland and explore the new territory. Of course you will be a little afraid. All people take their first steps cautiously when their physical or emotional landscape is new.

Learning how to make transitions, how to cross the river, gets easier with each new challenge. Some day it might be much less problematic, but as you learn to improve your life--and you may have to, whether you want to or not--the process will become more comfortable. Get off the raft, put your feet on the dry land of a new chapter of your life, stand tall, walk forward, and never look back.