Sunday, August 19, 2007

Alchemy

Change is inevitable.

Change is not optional.

I once thought I handled change well. I was deceived. Flexibility and adaptability were present only when the change was agreeable to me. Or when I thought I could determine the route and intensity of the change.

I laugh out loud as I read these words. Control change? No, I can only control my own reactions and responses to change (or so a very wise yoda has told me).

If the first two statements are true (and I believe they are), here are some thoughts concerning this inevitability.

Cataclysmic Change. Unexpected. Uncontrolled.
Shifts the interior.
Rearranges the lay of the land.
It alters the horizon.
And what was once readily recognizable is no longer.

Metamorphic Change. Gradual. Invisible.
Time, heat, and pressure will create the gem.
And what was once readily recognizable is no longer.

Erosive Change. Abrasive. Corrosive.
Water will move through a mountain because it needs an outlet.
Grass will grow through the confines of a sidewalk.
This change often occurs because of neglect and little maintenance,
and because life is trying to find space to move and grow.
Eventually what was once recognizable is no longer.

Alchemic Change. Unexplanable. Mysterious.
In medieval times a few people practiced and believed in alchemy.
Men and women hoped to discover the formula
to change base elements into gold.
As this word and its definitions have evolved,
there is a sense that alchemy is the taking of something quite common and transforming it into something extraordinary.
So what was once recognizable is no longer.

I am being changed.

There was a wearing away in my life. My scaffolding became unstable as a result of a slow erosion. This brought about a cataclysmic change. My undergirding began to fold like the earth shifts in an earthquake. As a result my landscape has been rearranged.

I am experiencing God's alchemy. He is taking my base elements and transforming them into something more than what they are and more than what I am. I can resist. I can try to stop the process. I can balk and plant my feet.


But as the wise yoda has instructed, I am trying to react and respond in a good way. There are indicators that I am truly adapting: a moved chair, a new ring, a new habit, a new pace, a new perspective, and a new friend.


No matter what kind of change comes it is like a river and will flow over, around, and under you if need be. You can resist.

Like the mighty mountain you can raise sheer walls of granite, but the river will wind and meander its way through you. Slowly wearing its path because of persistance and consistency.

And it will cut deep. It will make its mark. And even from vaulted elevations you will be able to see its path through your valley. Automatically your eyes will be drawn to the ravine change has cleaved.

And for a moment you won't recognize yourself.

I didn't.

1 comment:

Phil said...

beautifully said...