It can be a visible change or something so far down inside that only you know a thing about it. Sometimes it takes years and sometimes all it takes is standing on a bridge at night, watching the cars pass below. Either way, it’s thrilling. I’ve always been a little bit in love with transformation.
The impetus for these changes can be any number of things–a sense that life has grown stale, a spiritual crisis, wrestling with mortality followed by the need to feel Alive in that capitalized, Technicolor sense, supreme sorrow, or sheer boredom.
My process differs every time, but inevitably contains the following stages: a sudden realization, an inventory taking of my innermost, a much obsessed-over plot to transfigure life as I know it, stubborn striving, shameful setbacks followed by still more stubborn striving, then a period of peace with alternating moments of elation and that wispy sensation of the loss of an old self.
We’re suckers for shortcuts. Change your appearance, change your life is the mantra that has led to more haircuts than I would like to imagine. Although there have been many changes in my life brought about by carelessness and coincidence, it has been the hard work and the complete internal overhaul that has truly brought about transformation. Every few years this is necessary. That time is now.