Starting over again is hard to do.
Appropriate homage to the songwriter aside, staring over is hard to do. I have read, attended seminars, facilitated discussion, and experienced new and change countless times. There have been more occasions then I can describe where my words were filled with platitudes and definition of being an agent of change. Deming to Blue Ocean Strategy – life without change is stagnant.
The end of summer meant purchasing new school clothes. My children are really into hand held digital books; the experience of walking into a bookstore and selecting a new volume filled with the crackle of the spine and the new book scent is an experience I look forward to. My wife conducts High Holy Day services in our synagogue; annually at the observance of the Jewish New Year her words are all about the amazing opportunity to start over. My brother and I were diapering my son a few weeks after he was born. Looking at his new, fresh, tight skin (with no weight induced stretch marks) instilled a sense of envy.
The moment of new has been lauded and explored by authors, singers, business leaders, clergy. When it is happening to you all the rationale, knowledge laden platitudes fly out the window and those butterflies take up residence within the stomach and esophagus.
I was the newbie last week for the first time in a decade. Thirty plus years as a professional and fifty-one years of life should have prepared me better. I started down a new professional pathway in a new city. On my first day I awoke, worked out, showered, and completed all the daily tasks in much the same way they had been performed the 18,451 days of my life. Clothes were laid out the night before and briefcase was ready. I awoke in a hotel that morning in an empty bed because my wife and family were still at home. Breakfast was served in the dining room and my car was covered in the elements of the day. The activity of the day was the same although each step was taken gingerly with trepidation.
The outdoor temperature was about 10 degrees and I was sweating. Seated in the lobby awaiting an acknowledged entry into the bowls of the office I could feel the collar begin to get wet and regardless of how still I was sitting there was abundant perspiration. A five minute wait felt like a day. I talked to myself, attempted to think about something pleasant, focused my mind on a beach with waves, and consistently thinking calm was occurring all at the same time. Absolutely nothing worked.
The first day went great. Within a few hours I was sitting, jacket off, tie down in a meeting. The pen and pad were familiar and the topics were similar to those I had participated in thousands of times over a career. I was in my element. I was on top of my game. I was sweatin the awesome dry erase board and technology in the conference room. Concurrently, my mouth was as dry a desert, my hands gripped the Diet Coke can for dear life, and there was a growing lightheaded feeling engulfing my withered brain. Words were selected carefully – good impression, demonstrate knowledge, show confidence, don’t be cocky, don’t talk to hear yourself. In a blink of an eye the day was over.
My mother often has said that a new experience is character building. Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People questioned events in one’s life although each event carried with it a unique purpose to help an individual grow. At 7:45 pm on Day #1 the unexpected had become the expected. The absence of new leaves nothing to look forward to. New is the outcome of change. For better or worse, change provides an individual an opportunity to rewind past experiences and use that accumulated knowledge in a different venue. Approaching new within a context of previous stimuli carries with it a certain degree of comfort.
New is exciting and change is inevitable. We often retreat to old in a search for a protected environment that is safe from unknown. Mashed potatoes, hot apple pie, the ripped sweatshirt, the DVD viewed for the hundredth time are all attempts to return to the privacy of a mother’s womb. There is no way that a fifty-one year old large man could survive in a womb. Change evokes creativity. New offers the opportunity to grow.
The end of Day #1 came too fast. I drove back to the hotel, worked out, and hit the bed. The laptop came out immediately and cell turned on. A call to my wife was received with the parent. A call from my mother was as close to her womb as I was going to get to (even with GPS). Looking back, the day had gone well and the excitement of the new stimuli was enriching. Tomorrow would bring new ideas and new events. By midnight new wasn’t as frightening as it was the previous day.
New came and went. I had survived. I had taken a step into the future and unknown and walked away breathing.
If I could just figure out how to get the butterflies out of my stomach day #2 would be much better!
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