Change. Is. Opportunity.

Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it yells and screams. But it is always, always opportunity.

My life is on the precipice of huge, enormous, agoraphobic change. This process will be locked into a specific timeframe, which for me is a great thing; I always work best to deadline. It will be overflowing with the opportunity to Purge and Simplify. In my life, I tend easily towards Acquire and Complexify. (That’s right, complexify. Check it, yo.) So Purge and Simplify feel like devouring a ripping breath of fresh air after being submerged in dark, murky depths for longer than my lungs could handle.

With this change comes Hope. That feels entirely foreign to my lips, my tongue, my skin. Hope. Hope that I really have hit bottom and I’m on the upswing in my life. Hope that shedding attachments and responsibility is not, in fact, a recession into immaturity and recklessness, but rather a broad stroke with the Growing Up brush. Simplifying. Redefining. Making my life into what I want it to be.

Taking control instead of giving it away like candy.

This change is mine to define. Mine to choose. Mine to live. In a world where we constantly strive for more, more, more, I want less, less, less. Less responsibility that I can’t manage. Less stuff. Less space. But I want those things that remain to really count. The change in my life needs to be the trade in of quantity for quality. Kids these days (yeah, I’m actually at an age where I can start using the phrase, “kids these days”) compete to see who has the most Facebook friends. I don’t care how many Facebook friends I have. I care how many friends I have with whom I can sit down for dinner and bare our souls to one another. That kind of quantity for quality.

I am constantly drowning in stress. It sounds like a metaphor, but I’m not so sure it is. I can literally feel an enormous weight on my chest, pretty much all of the time. My nervous system fires all wrong – weird nerve shocks regularly go down my arms into my hands or flare across my back. The panic is barely concealed under the hopefully well-heeled exterior. But it is stress, and it is panic, and it is making me sick. Another not-so-metaphor. The stress in my life is literally making me sick.

Back injury. Recurrent strep throat, bronchitis, and pneumonia. Unknown viruses aplenty. My body is an open vessel when it comes to ailments that I succumb to, and I’m quite sure that my constant stress level makes me super susceptible to all invaders small and large.

So change is necessary. Welcomed, if not whole-heartedly, then at least with arms thrown open in defiance of my own fears. Change will, again and again, rip the carpet out from under my feet and knock me on my ass. But think about the picture that might come suddenly clear on the way down. The new perspective to glean looking up from down there. The new people to meet as we all get to our feet again, this time adopting a wider (and wiser) stance so as not to be so easily upended.

Change is necessary to shake things up a little. Everybody needs to fall on their ass now and then. Keeps the body limber, having to get ourselves up off the floor on a regular basis. Right? Shit, I think I better start doing more yoga…limber up those falling-on-my-ass muscles. Lord knows they get a workout in my life.

So here’s to it! Change. Facing the fears that change embodies. Being willing to fall on our asses and, to quote an old jazz tune, “Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.” What’s the worst that can happen? I already know how to fall on my ass. In fact, I already know how to get myself up off my ass. So really? Bring it. I’m game. Let’s see what life can bring me when I’m conscious about the journey, conscious about inviting positive things, positive people, positive change, and positive energy into my life.

Game on. Yeah, chicken.