A pencil and a dream can take you anywhere

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line

Looking at the cream coloured dressing gown, as my black one was in the wash, adorning the back of the bathroom door, it was then I realised I wasn’t sure I was a huge fan of change. Can I change my own mind?

Someone famous, who said stuff that others immortalised, once said (and I paraphrase maybe) ‘the only thing we are certain of is change’ thanks mr/mrs but heshe could have been right.

As a child of the air force and a victim of itchifuss footemia I have had to deal with a great deal of change. Change can be good, we all like to change out of dirty clothes, change our underwear (one can hope) change our wardrobe and change our hair colour or style yet other types of change we seem to run a mile from. Some other famous person said ‘nobody likes change'. Were they right?

Sometimes I like a good change *I do, I do*, I get bored of waking at certain times, I don’t have a 9-5 job thingy and I barely have what could be termed ‘a routine’, except perhaps moisturising because, let’s face it, without it my skin resembles a sticklebrick. We all know of people who have a routine that they stick religiously to, I get as bored as a housewife watching Loose women (which I swear is the same show every time I watch it, just with different menopausal moan buckets) if my life ever resembles ‘routine’. I hardly ever go back to the same place twice (except Watford, I love Watford) and I like to mix up who I hang out with to keep it fresh (plus people hang out with me once and the next time they’re all busy and booked up- phew, I was glad to have got in there for that initial visit)

Some people hate to change their mind or their opinion and some are a little too proud to say that they may be wronger than a wrong thing in wrongville on wrong day. I am willing to be wrong, thankfully this hardly ever happens. Like the time I argued with 3 bona fide Americans that Gettysburg (the famous civil war battleground in Pennsylvania) was in Pennsylvania, I based this solely on having visited there 8 months previously with a friend who is a Civil war expert, but ya know I was willing to be wrong (even though I was 100% right and had two people from Penn State nearby who could vouch for me) One person (a west coaster) was determined that we couldn’t be right- okay I am a Brit but the others were a couple who grew up 40mins away from Gettysburg. This person in their stubborn-ness and sheer resistance to mind control (I mean change) checked the ‘enchanted never incorrect oracle of all knowingness’ that us lay peeps refer to for shortsies as- Wikipedia. When Wikipedia claimed it was indeed Pennsylvania and not Virginia, which is what they were arguing (the fact that I had lived in Virginia and it wasn’t there then- was by the by) well they then proffered that sometimes Wikipedia is wrong *cue loud gasp*
The moral of this story: be willing to change your mind and opinion (also believe the Brit who visited Gettysburg and the two people from there) Also don’t, I repeat don't knock Wikipedia, it’s written by highly fallible people who are just free to add their own information to it, unchecked, I will have you know.

Change can be good, like when we clean the house and find about 2€ in change *chu-ching* or when you move somewhere you didn’t know you would like with a whole other language and you have to adapt, you need to take from it what you can. Use the experience to learn a new language (not allow the words to buffer off your mind as an act of outright rebellion) and be willing to adapt to those surroundings and grow… and I am not talking grow as in 'eat all the pastries and cheese' kind of grow.

Perhaps we need to realise that change is absolutively necessary, we would never go anywhere or achieve any of our dreams if we stayed in the same place or others would just selfishly change around us and we’d be left standing. I speak to myself just as much in this- I recently had the very real fear that I may become “that mad cat lady whose house children run past” The pastor of my local church has assured me that he would stage an intervention if that were ever to happen. Plus I would never be able to afford my own house in this economy. Also I realised that my life has always been about change so that would only change if I were to change. Are you still following me? So to change tack ...

I, for one, am glad I have changed- and you should be too. The person I was when I left secondary school no longer exists, well she is somewhere inside but I keep her firmly locked up in a proverbial choky (read Matilda by Roald Dahl- a cupboard with spikes) and I swear I must have left the key behind in an old house (I can only hope) and just like a (fake acting)prisoner in Alcatraz she ain’t escaping from that one -unless she has the help of Clint Eastwood and he’s getting on a bit now.
I know I sometimes think that no one from school has changed, someone gets in touch and I remember the 11-16 year old that they were, the immature annoying person that I-just-couldn’t-stand and I still find myself pressing ‘decline’ on a facebook friend request. Of course nobody is disputing that they have changed, I just don’t want to risk them having changed for the worst.

I have seen many changes over the years, have glimpsed out of many a window, seen many a view, had many keys to many doors, have moved many boxes from one house to another, have lost all my friends and started again, have changed my mind and back again (sweet and sour pork? Beef and mushroom? No, sweet and sour pork) have changed the way I view the world, have changed the way I view myself (thank the Lord), have changed from watching all the soaps to watching one, faithfully (and also reading spoilers to avoid being surprised) Perhaps the next thing to change is just how much information I choose to divulge…

A wise woman once said “ a change, a change, will do you good, a change, I said a change, a change, will do you good” It was so profound, she said it twice.
Taking Sheryl's advice next week I am off away for a short break with close friends to Espana, I am so happy to be going, those reading this think that because I live in Provence I would have everything I need right here (however there is thunder and lightning that caused half the house power to go off and it is raining for the fifth day in a row) Plus there are lots of chavs here and the people speak a like, totes diff language. What's that you say? What on earth is Espanol? Sounds like a rice dish.

On a serious note, all I ever hope, change wise, is to be transformed, to change for the better. I always look for ways to improve myself or my mind – some of them may seem perfunctory such as becoming good at baking which I try and counteract with reading- oh how happy I was to discover a new author, she uses outdated lingo (which I think she must be doing to be retro) but the adventures of those five weirdly named children who drink 'lashings and lashings' of ginger beer are simply spiffing. This Edna or Enid Blyton, whatever her name is, must be a new prodigy and I shall quick foot it down to the local library and see if she has any more new smashing novels on the go.

You don’t need to fear change because someone else that is really wise said ‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself’ so that’s great- a new fear. Fear.