Up with the dawn.
There’s something sweet about the subtle change of the sky from night to day. From coal black darkness behind the bedroom blinds, to a muted wash of paleness that transforms the silhouettes of trees and houses to intricate black paper cutouts, then, a blue-ish hue backlit by gold stealthily grows from the horizon, pink and yellow whisps of clouds the evidence that a Sun is rising out of sight, and soon all will become the colour and texture of its true, daylight self.
Not so long ago, I was much more the Night Owl. I remember 8 am classes in college feeling like the middle of the night, and sitting through them a POW torture technique involving toothpicks placed to hold up swollen eyelids over sandy, aching eyes. Rushing to 7 am jobs on pure adrenaline mixed with hatred and caffeine.
As a teenager and long into adulthood, reading novels until 2 am was a regular occurrence. Sleep was for the weak, and no one was weaker than my pathetic self the next morning, feebly smacking the alarm clock, eyes squeezed shut with righteous indignation. No wonder I arrived at work or class with the oddest outfit combinations. Makeup hastily applied, hair teased out into that lovely early 90’s perm halo. One shoe tied.
But, people change, and now 7 pm sounds like when we should all be leaving for home, not starting the event. The wonders of early morning have replaced looking at the stars at night. It is odd, because I remember loving the midnight hour when most of the world was tucked in; it felt like freedom and the best time, when all the fairy folk would meet and frolic in the woods. Possibly too late to start a movie, but not too late to go for a drive and blast music or start a conversation about the meaning of life.
My circadian rhythm has shifted though, now that I live in the realm of the Middle-Aged. The young people don’t laugh at my jokes anymore, and don’t know what movie character I’m talking about, completely miss lyric references, and just generally don’t see me as a real person. Which is fine, honestly. I’m so tired by 8 pm that instead of asking my husband if we should run out to the store for a late night snack, we’re asking each other – somewhat sheepishly – if it’s too early to go to bed.
Yes, people change. From night-owl to Morningbird is a simple thing. Other changes happen on a deeper level. I think it’s important, invaluable even, to let people change. Perhaps they don’t feel or think a certain way anymore, and we say, “But you always said such-and-such!” It’s an integral part of the experience of being human. We aren’t programmed; we learn, grow, shift perspectives, change our minds. Maybe a friend who wasn’t interested in fitness is suddenly telling you all about nutrition and their amazing workout plan. Or, someone who never traveled goes on a trip and then gets the bug, and it seems like they are always sending pictures from across the country or the ocean. A friend who rarely read, now browsing your library for books, or one who always accepted the status quo is now asking big questions and bucking the trends.
What I’m trying to say is that it’s normal and okay for people to change. Sometimes they need space to try out their new persona or ideas, and it’s ok to let them be a little nuts or ask about what the Bible really says on an issue or if that political party may actually be on to something. The trouble is, we don’t like it when people around us change; it makes us wary and even suspicious. I mean it’s alright if Joe Blow changes careers and moves to Japan, good for him, but when it is a loved one or family member we can get outright hostile about it.
It’s a real thing in marriage, for sure. The person you married at 19 or 20 is very likely to change at least a few times over the course of your life together. I believe this is a key to understanding marriage. Allowing your significant other to grow, change, struggle, try different paths and pursue interests is the freedom that a strong love is able to bear. I’m very fortunate to have a husband who treats me the same whether I am up to my ears in work and projects, or as I am now, moving slower and staying home. I appreciate it so much. He is a steady rock. And vise versa – I try to help him explore new paths, jobs, education or hobbies because he’s not some kind of reflection of me or body double, he is a separate human making his own way in the world. Just because he married me doesn’t mean he and I need to think the same. His sole purpose isn’t to give me attention or enable my plans. Of course it isn’t always simple, and I realize some couples experience pain and insurmountable problems that I can’t even imagine. I’m thankful though, that I am married to a man who sees me as a person in my own right, not just an extension of his plans.
Life is great when you are on the same path together, side by side, but there are times when one is further ahead or running down a game trail or stopped to rest, tired and out of breath. So we wait for each other.
This happens with friends and family members too. With people you’ve known your whole life, and it’s far easier to just pretend than try and explain what you’ve been through, what you’re wrestling with, or how you may have changed. It isn’t always safe to share, though, and we do get burned. Often, upsetting the apple cart is viewed as a threat. Particularly, insecure people will resist efforts to change and may try to bully, shame, or cajole others into going back to the role or position they are comfortable with. We all do this to some extent.
But maybe, next time a person shares their new thought or way of viewing the world we can leave space for them to be themselves. It doesn’t take anything away from us to allow them to change, and certainly makes for a more interesting, less static existence on this planet. There are times to speak up and warn our friends and loved ones, for sure. If they are dancing closer and closer to dangerous cliff edges the loving thing is to say, “Stop! I’m worried about you.”
Human relationships are like boats on a lake, needing space to move while the ripples and waves inevitably affect each craft. Or like trees in a forest, intertwined by the roots and yet separate, making space for each other’s leaves and branches. If we are only focused on our own destination on the water, we can crash our boats. A tree rarely grows much taller and wider than other trees, unless all those around have been cut down.
Are there people who are trying to be more themselves around you? Or, are you trying to communicate that you’re changing or going through a rough patch, and everyone seems to ignore it, still forcing you to march to the same drum? It can be scary when people change. It rocks our world, and maybe it even tips our boat and we take on too much water, and in order to give them space and still care for ourselves we need to retreat to a safe harbor.
Recognizing and creating space for people to become the truest version of themselves is a good way to love them. It involves listening and really hearing. Finding the right words and communicating. Resisting the urge to correct others and get them back in their boxes. Sometimes, it means telling someone that they are hurting you, and that you need to move away for a time. There are always bigger, stronger, faster boats in the harbor, pushing for the greatest stretch of dock or spraying a huge wake behind them as they turn.
Maybe what I’m saying is we all need to find our voice, tugboat and yachts and sailing ships, and we all need to find our ears so we can listen. People change and grow, sometimes for the better, and sadly sometimes for the worse, but we hope they don’t stay there. Hopefully, we give them encouragement and space to go in a different direction, not with manipulative tactics but simply by getting out of the way. We honour and respect the imago Dei in fellow humans by letting them be their true selves. This means not talking badly about each other behind closed doors, comparing people to someone else, or otherwise stuffing each other in boxes or taking away each other’s light. It’s hard to do, because those waves may threaten to swamp our boat or move us from our happy fishing spot.
People change, whether we want them to or not. We change, too, whether we had planned to or not. With age, experience, knowledge. From pain, through understanding, and because of growth. And that’s ok; it is the story of being human.
Stories for Humans 