Friday, October 1, 2010
It's like they know what I'm thinking
I just got around to watching the season premeire of Grey's Anatomy, which first aired a week ago. Truthfully, it was mostly because watching that show has begun to feel like an unpleasant task. I'm less than enamored with the story lines, which have been played out, and completely annoyed with the characters.
This is the last episode I'm going to watch, I told myself. If it stinks, yet again, I'm not watching this stupid show anymore. Then, the show concluded with this. And I realized that the love wasn't lost just yet:
"Every cell in the human body regenerates on average every seven years. Like snakes, in our own way we shed our skin. Biologically we are brand new people. We may look the same, we probably do, the change isn't visible at least in most of us, but we are all changed completely forever.
When we say things like 'people don't change' it drives scientists crazy because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy. Matter. It's always changing, morphing, merging, growing, dying. It's the way people try not to change that's unnatural. The way we cling to what things were instead of letting things be what they are. The way we cling to old memories instead of forming new ones. The way we insist on believing despite every scientific indication that anything in this lifetime is permanent. Change is constant. How we experience change that's up to us. It can feel like death or it can feel like a second chance at life. If we open our fingers, loosen our grips, go with it, it can feel like pure adrenaline. Like at any moment we can have another chance at life. Like at any moment, we can be born all over again."
And I was reminded, again, of how I feel. Not how I want to feel or how I think I feel or even how I tell people I feel, but truly and genuinely how I actually feel. You know, like when the makeup is wiped from your face at the end of the day and you stare in the mirror at all of your little imperfections? We spend our lives covering up the blemishes and masking the wrinkles with make up and our words. But after each day is done, we are left knowing what truly lies beneath. And it aint always pretty.
It's funny, isn't it? How some stupid television show can become that voice in your head, reminding you to take a closer look at who you have become. I sometimes believe that the experience of infertility, the horror of hearing someone with 5 college degrees explain in non-logical terms we probably won't have children, has changed me for the worse. Like somehow seeing the worst that life and science has to offer us has caused something inside of me to break loose, loudly rattling around as I walk, but never really repairing itself.
The truth is, it has changed me. It would be harder for you to believe that it has not, right? But being changed doesn't always mean being changed for the worse. It doesn't have to be that way, not if you see change as an opportunity for a fresh start. A chance to let your voice be heard. Or, the opportunity to enjoy life through a new perspective. To drink in every moment as it comes. When something changes you and alters your perspective, it evolves into something greater than you could have imagined.
More importantly, I remembered that I have always resisted change. I have fought, kicking and screaming, against every single moment in my life that has changed things. Because I was scared. Because I liked the familiar better than the foreign. Because it was just easier that way. I. Hate. Change. Oh, and waiting. I hate that, too.
But, I can still put my finger on that piece of me that wants to understand. Wants to make perfect sense of everything. I still want someone to explain why it's me, and not someone else. Someone who I think is less deserving, perhaps. I still talk about events that happened "before" and "after" we found out. As if it was a war and things are so traumatic that everything else is eclipsed by this event. Those words. The way I felt then and how I feel now. As much as it feels like I'm whining, it's truly how I feel.
And being truly honest about how you feel is opening a door. And that door lets in just as much as it lets out. You know, like those doors at a restaurant that swing both directions. And the door smacked me in the face a few weeks ago when someone told me the one thing on this earth I didn't want to hear: that I was bitter.
It was crushing. Because of all the things on this earth I am willing to be, bitter is not one of those things. In fact, it is the one thing I try constantly not to be. But sometimes, we need the people we love to tell us the truth--even when it hurts. Unfortunately, they were right. It made me realize though, that I wasn't allowing the change to happen; I was fighting it. And it was burning me every step of the way, as if I was being dragged behind a moving vehicle. And it was that--the resistance--that was making me bitter.
Here's the thing about change, though: it only works if you're willing to actually let it change you. And you'd be suprised how good it can feel.