The Long Year


It’s been 1 year, 6 months, 13 days, and about 2 hours and 18 minutes since traversing the country from East to West, including my husband and 2 young cats. As of today, I’m pretty sure the cats feel like they’ve never lived anywhere else. But it wasn’t always that way. They hated it here when we first moved. One was bouncing off the walls every night at 11, the other at 4AM, ready to start the day (I swear, it was like having toddlers.) And, the new fun was running sprints back and forth in our tiny California ranch home instead of the excitement of racing up and down 3 flights of stairs in Philly. Plus, the days of hiding in the basement were over.

Eventually they settled in, and once we knew they were safe, magic appeared… our backyard. Life for them hasn’t been the same since. They love the sun and heat and space. They have no problem with daily 96-degree temperatures in summer (the normal Valley summer temps). And you know what? Neither do I. I, too, have adapted. I, too, have discovered the backyard and the sun, heat, and space. I was just as miserable in the beginning as they were (the little toddlers, I mean cats, weren’t making it any easier for me). And, I realized, even though I am the one with reasoning capabilities and opposable thumbs, our lives and happiness run parallel. We all are now, dare I say, happy? Okay. Happy-ish. Admitting you’re “happy” seems flighty and unrealistic. I just mean I’m pretty good right now. Yet, as always, life fluctuates, and I will accept that next phase when it comes, fully aware that the pendulum swings and everything is temporary.

So what does this have to do with adapting? For one thing, remembering that change is a constant motion. Even at your worst, you will eventually make it to your best. In the see-saw of life, you put the pressure on yourself to accept whatever is thrown your way. But darn it, the most extreme transitions are really hard to accept. You may have a death in the family or job loss.

No one feels comfortable with change. How we best manage is to create our own comfort bubble for survival, which gracefully helps us ease into the next phase. So ask yourself what makes you think, the next time you’re having a rough go, you won’t be able to create another comfort bubble?

Don’t let the fear of discomfort keep you from progressing. Remember that change is inevitable, always. So what’s holding you back?

Your new comfort bubble awaits.