I don’t necessarily see things like losing houses, moving, getting divorced, and changing careers as failures. I don’t see periods of loss and tumult as aberrations of what should be. Life is like a river. It moves and changes. We ride it. Sometimes, if we are moving, we get dashed against the stones.
When did we decide that sameness is valuable, in and of itself? When did we decide that making all our crucial decisions out of fear of “what if?” was wise? The worst “what if?” WILL happen to you. You will die. Everything you do between now and then is a gift. When did we start to believe that these lives of ours would last forever, that we would be able to keep our stashes of stuff? Our very breath is borrowed. Our skin belongs to the clay. Do we really think we can keep our Rolls-Royces?
Sometimes–many times–change is an act of great courage, a statement that life is too precious and valuable a gift to be lived in misery. People say marriage is sacred. I don’t think it is, in and of itself. I think love is sacred. A loveless marriage can be a very unholy thing. A decision to leave a loveless marriage can be a gesture of reverence for the gift of life. Likewise, people say staying at one job for years and years indicates commitment. Certainly it does. But a commitment to what? Sometimes, it indicates a commitment to one’s passion. This is a beautiful thing. But if it is just a commitment to stability, to the notion that dollars are more important than precious hours of which our lives are made, I have no admiration for it. I have more admiration for the homeless man sleeping under the bridge, who sees, really sees, the sky. Green paper will never be more valuable than the fabric of our sacred lives.
I say if something is killing you, walk away from it. Leave it in love, but leave it. Revere your life enough to live it with passion, joy, and love. There is no nobility in staying for the sake of staying. There is only nobility in staying for the sake of love.