Changes

It still makes me look twice.  You see, we rearranged the master bedroom and repainted over the weekend.  While I love the new look, I'm still a little shocked every time I round the corner.  It looks completely different, and all we did was paint one wall, move some furniture and buy 2 new lampshades.  And yet--it's all very different.  Don't get me wrong, I love the new look, it's just taking me awhile to get used to it.

You'd think I'd adapt much quicker, what with my track record of moving.  I moved almost every year as a child and have moved numerous times as an adult, and yet change of any kind is somewhat hard on me.  Good or bad change--it really doesn't matter, it's still a bit unnerving.  I realize now that that aspect of my personality most likely will never change (no pun intended)--not at my age anyway.  Change will always be hard on me.  I wonder if it's that way for everyone?  Or am I in the minority?

The insecurities that I wrestle with come about, I am sure, with my many moves.  Never really settling in, always knowing that soon, I would be jerked up and replanted.  As a kid there was nothing I could do about it, as an adult--well, there's not much I could do about that either when I think about it.  That stinks.  I would have thought by now that I would have some type of control over my own life.  But no.  No control.  Just change--scary change.  I don't like it.  Or do I?

However, I have this little problem.  It's called being positive--always seeing the silver lining in every cloud.  I believe that God made me that way--to cope.  With life.  And so with every move, I ferret out the good things about said move and throw out the bad and scary stuff.  And I've learned to adapt.  Because I am an optimist.  My husband doesn't realize what an enormous gift this is.  Or does he?

I'm wondering now if that's why every so often I need change.  I crave it.  Even if it's something as simple as painting a wall.  Moving a chair.  Buying a lampshade.  I need the change.  For self- preservation.  Yes, I think that's it.  For my mental well-being, every once in awhile, I need a little change in my life--maybe to remember that I am alive and that change is OK, good even.  Change is good and fun and stretching and life.

Yes, this little change over the weekend has made me feel good.  I needed something.  And this fit the bill--as they say.  This made all the difference in the world to my mental state.  It was fun and challenging (you've never had to paint a room with a paint hater, have you?) and exciting.  It made me happy.

I think I'll sit in there now and read awhile.  It's so pretty and different and changed...and it didn't hurt a bit.