Last night I had dinner with four other women at Carino’s Italian Grill. Since these were new acquaintances, I dressed up for the occasion, abandoning my fave black boots, jeans, and black jacket for an uncharacteristically neutral white tank, beige linen jacket, and—perfect for first impressions—these really great leopard pumps.
Across a table laden with bowls of lasagna, antipasto, and loaves of crusty bread, we introduced ourselves and began exchanging pleasantries. At first, we offered aerial shots of our worlds, like how many kids we had, how long we’d lived in Colorado, and the kinds of things that we or our husbands did for a living.
Gradually we began sharing snapshots of the landscapes of our lives, like when Becky told us about the week she spent bicycling through Europe with her husband and two teenage granddaughters.
But I wanted more. A closer glimpse. Call me Mrs. Kravitz if you must. But, like Darrin and Samantha’s nosy neighbor, I longed for a peek inside the private quarters where these women lived. I told them I was
writing a book on change and invited their insights.Then I asked if there
were any changes in
their lives they’d been longing to make.
I’ll be the first to admit that, as questions go, “What kinds of changes have you been longing to make?” is onionesque, meaning the first layers are opaque and it takes a while to get down to the transparent stuff. The first round of responses was pretty much what any group of new acquaintances might offer. Nancy suggested there are seasons when a woman longs for change and other seasons when things are going great and she’s happy with who she is and what she’s got.
I leaned forward, careful to avoid the marinara sauce I’d managed to spill on the table besidemy plate (see why I always wear black?). I probed, “So, you’re all pretty happy with your lives?”
There were nods all around the table.
I was intrigued. Most of these women were a little farther along the path of life than I was. Several had grandchildren the ages of my daughters. Is this what I had to look forward to? Somewhere in the
coming decade, would I find myself completely satisfied with my life? And if so, would it mean I’d finally learned how to create the changes I’d longed for? Or would it mean that I’d finally given up and let my
desperate longings for change fall by the wayside? I wasn’t too sure about all this.
About that time, Becky brought up her longing to relocate so she could be closer to kids and grandkids. She sighed. “I wish it could happen next month, but we’ve got to sell our property first, and it’s not even
listed yet. It could be a year before we finally get to move.”
The conversation drifted then to real estate, children, and even gardening. After a while there was a lull, and Diane lit up and said, “Well, I’m starting school in the fall! That’s a big change for me. In fact, I’ve
wanted to do this for years!”
We plied her with questions: “If you’ve wanted to do this for years, what kept you fromdoing it sooner, and whatmade you decide to finally do it now?” “Will you attend classes part time or full time?” “How will
you use all your new knowledge when you’re done?”
Eventually someone said, “Well, as long as we’re talking about changes, what woman doesn’t wish she could lose a few pounds?” and we all groaned in wistful agreement.
One of the women made a face. “Why is it so hard? I struggle and struggle. Look at you,” and she tapped bicycling-through-Europe Becky playfully on the shoulder. “You don’t have a problem with weight.Then again, I guess you work it off. But food calls my name. I wish we didn’t have to eat at all. If someone wants to stop drinking, I hear they can take a pill that makes them sick to their stomach if they have a drink.Why can’t we do that with food? Instead, we just have to eat
less. I
hate that!”
That started a humorous exchange of diet tips and stories.
As lighthearted conversation winged all around us, one of the women turned to just me and said quietly, “I long to change my perception of myself.”
“You do?”
Carolyn nodded. “I’m too hard on myself. I know it. Even my husband says so.”
She talked a little about being the firstborn in her family, being the daughter of amother she’d never been able to please, feeling bound by the need to be not only perfectly perfect but perfectly nice as well, and chastising herself when she fell short of these impossible goals.
Toward the end of our evening at Carino’s, one of the women looked at me and asked, “So what changes do
you want to make?”
I only gave her the short list, mentioning my desires to…
• Become better organized with my finances.
• Settle into a committed, long-term relationship with my skinny jeans (replacing all these short-lived flings).
• Fall madly in love.
• Launch an idea I have for a community-wide monthly event called Second Saturday in the Springs. The idea came to me when I was sifting through the ashes of a loss in my life.Who knows?Maybe it’s my Phoenix. All I know is that I can’t seem to get this idea out of my head, so I’m thinking it’s time to rearrange my life to make it happen.
I forgot to mention that I’d love to be a neater eater so I could feel more confident wearing something other than black.
As the evening drew to a close, we paid our tabs and went our separate ways. Driving home, two things occurred to me.
The first was that, sadly, I had a big glob of marinara sauce on my linen jacket.
The second was that it had been an intriguing evening.
What changes do you long to embrace? It’s an onion of a question, to be sure. But as you peel away the layers, isn’t it
fascinating?
Some changes come immediately to mind and tongue. Other transformations feel so unattainable that we barely admit our longings to ourselves, much less to other people.
Truth is, I haven’t met a woman who doesn’t have something in her life she longs to change. It might be the clutter in her home or the frown on her lips, the shape of her nose or the size of her hips, the balance in her checkbook, the crack in her heart. Perhaps she’s convinced that her ring finger needs a golden band or her marriage needs a spark. She might long to trade chaos for calm, bitterness for freedom, or that pack of Virginia Slims for a breath of fresh air. It’s possible that she yearns to exchange her plus-size polyester for a pair of size-nine jeans.Maybe she longs for a better career. Or a second chance. Or a dream she can feel passionate about.
What kinds of changes do we long to embrace?The list is endless.We want greater connection with loved ones, the fulfillment of long-held dreams, beautiful bodies, freedom from the experiences and ideas that keep us from living the lives we desire. We want healthy, committed, happy, passionate marriages.We long for greater control in our finances and greater abandon in our hearts.
So what’s stopping us? Why do we stay stuck in the same ruts year after year?
I don’t know what changes you’ve been longing to embrace. But no matter what changes you dream of, there are principles you can use to create those changes. I’ve thought about the best way to characterize the principles that produce change. Actually, the word
principles would be fine if it didn’t make me think of textbooks. There’s got to be a better word.
Tools? Too much testosterone.
Strategies? Sounds like a military campaign.
Tips? Mmm…seems wishy-washy to me.
How ’bout
pillars, as in “the pillars of change”? It sounds established, doesn’t it? Kind of like an ancient Greek temple or maybe the president of the local Rotary (you know, pillar of the community and all that).
But I’m the kind of girl who writes notes to herself using lip liner and thinks carrot cake should count as a vegetable, so
pillars seems a bit staid for me.
Ahhh…I know
exactly what to call these principles of change:
media. No, not like
WKRP in Cincinnati.Not that kind of media. I mean media as in
art.
Media is what an artist uses to create beauty. She begins with an image in her mind, a picture or vision of something that doesn’t exist, but should. Then she chooses her medium. Watercolor? Acrylics? Skin
and pigment? Stone and chisel?How ’bout silver sequins, wooden beads, uncooked spaghetti, Elmer’s glue, and a box of empty toilet paper rolls?
She’s also got to understand techniques, like shading and perspective, and maybe even how to wield a can of spray paint. If she’s sculpting, she’ll need to understand balance and leverage. If she’s tattooing or welding, different techniques will come into play.
Bottom line, if she’s going to bring her vision to life, she’s going to need
media, which is a combination of raw materials and knowledge. It might sound like a lot of work, gathering all that stuff and know-how.
And sometimes the process can feel a little messy and random—but it is
so worth the effort. After all, even a baby knows the joys of creating art out of whatever raw materials she has available to her. Just ask the toddler who is busy finger painting the wall next to her crib with whatever organic substance she had on hand…or bottom.
That’s pretty much what this book is about. It’s about taking the really cool picture that you envision in your ...
