For the love of adaptation
The other day, I FaceTimed my parents and when my mom picked up, I told her that I was calling because I’d caught a glimpse of my reflection and thought I looked like myself. It made me feel incredibly excited and I wanted to show her. I’m not sure that either of us knew what I meant.
I wasn’t dressed up in any particular way, no special hair, makeup or accessories - but somehow something seemed different and simultaneously deeply familiar.
That feeling keeps catching me in unexpected ways. The feeling that everything has changed so fast and so drastically that it isn’t recognizable, coupled with a feeling of certainty, of rightness.
It catches me when I make plans with a friend and say with pride that I’m available anytime and up for anything, and then realize with a different kind of pride that I’m not. I’m physically capable of meeting them anywhere at anytime, but I’m busy. I have other plans that I have to schedule around, other things to do in my day.
It catches me when someone asks me what I do and I start to reply that I’m in recovery from surgery when I suddenly remember that I’m also in a university program, that I’m working, that I’m volunteering, and that I’m singing and creating art.
I feel like I am living in two worlds, that I am two different people.
And I keep expecting to panic, to lose my balance, to crash.
But I haven’t.
There is so much going on in my life right now. I am healing. I am rebuilding my physical strength. I am singing. I am writing. I am studying. I am teaching. I am searching for all kinds of opportunities and making plans and building castles in my mind.
But I am not juggling. I am not balancing.
I am being.
This is who I am, who I always have been.
I thrive off of challenge and variety. I love sinking my teeth into new projects.
A couple of months ago, the number of elements in my life looked smaller on paper, but the amount of effort and agility involved in accomplishing them kept me motivated and fulfilled.
And now my ability level has changed, has grown, and the elements in my life have changed and grown along with it, keeping me feeling that same motivation and fulfillment.
The size of the shift has been sudden and drastic - enough to give anyone’s head a bit of a spin, never mind someone recovering from neurosurgery.
But it’s been just that. A shift, not a change.
I’m adapting to my new reality. And I’m absolutely loving it.