Key Changes (September 2019)

I attended my college reunion in June, a joyous occasion for noting the hundreds of roads that have spiraled out from a common epicenter. The turnout was impressive, with nearly half of my graduating class returning to campus for the weekend. It was wonderful to see old friends. We have spent the past 15 years becoming doctors and lawyers, artists and parents, balder and perhaps slightly paunchier.

Because we live in the age of social media, I knew in advance what many of them were doing with their lives. (In some cases, I even knew what they had for breakfast that morning.) From the first evening, I enforced a strict no-small-talk rule so that we could use our time together to talk about the important stuff.

People really responded positively to my personal ban on chitchat. I think a lot of people yearn for that kind of opportunity to open up, especially when it’s with someone who knows you from way back when. You don’t ever get to make more friends who have known you since you were young.

I spoke to a dear friend who, after having four children, expressed an inconvenient longing to go back to school and become a nurse-midwife. Some were debating big moves abroad or back to their hometowns. Others were weighing whether to take the leap and start a family. As for myself, I’m currently wrestling with the desire to pursue ministry as a calling, anticipating the several years of upheaval for my family that heeding this call will entail.

What became abundantly clear so quickly is that despite years of education and work, not one of us has truly “ended up” anywhere. We are all still deciding what we want to be when we grow up. I don’t think you’re ever too old to figure that out.

There was one high point during the reunion that stands out to me as an unexpected moment of collective unity. That moment came around midnight, when the DJ played Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.”

This is a rock song with a famous key change following the bridge. I’m told it’s from E minor to G minor. And played at an outdoor party, on a warm summer night, surrounded by tipsy people you’ve known for half your life, it is inevitable that singing will break out.

It seems unlikely that Bon Jovi pictured an audience of middle-age bankers and soccer moms when they wrote this song in 1986. But in the moment, we owned it. When that epic key change hit, the entire dance floor released full-throated singing in unison. Hitting that note in a collective howl reminded me that the novel and unexpected are universally energizing.

In retrospect it was the emotional peak of the weekend. And the allegory is this: Abruptly changing your direction will be what you remember best in the years to come. When you initiate major changes in your life, these can also turn out to be the moments we reflect on later as being our own emotional peaks.

Tonight at sundown begins Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year and the first of the High Holy Days. This is a joyful two-day holiday that celebrates the creation of humankind. It’s a time of reflection and a reminder to “wake from your slumbers” to contemplate the next chapter of your life.

And it seems fitting for today’s reading by Cheryl Strayed, which has long been one I return to whenever I’m weighing a choice between maintaining the status quo and setting off on a new adventure.

When our lives suddenly deviate from the path we’ve always known, it isn’t always welcome or easy. Sometimes it’s terrifying. Usually these changes are invited, but often they are thrust upon us with no warning. And change, especially when it is not by choice, can be difficult to accept.

I have several friends and a family member who are currently undergoing treatment for cancer, so I’m acutely aware that not all change is joyful.

One of my close friends was diagnosed with a rare type of uterine cancer last year. Karen underwent surgery this month to remove new tumors in her lungs. As she awaits the pathology report to see if her cancer has spread, she shared the most remarkable perspective with me: She is trying to feel compassion for her cancer. She described her tumors as “my own cells that have gone a little wayward” and is using meditation to find peace with what is happening within her. This attitude is helping her build the strength she needs to take her next steps. I have never heard anything more extraordinary in my life.

Karen has taught me that whether a key change enters your life with invitation or without, there are two mindsets that will prepare you for whatever comes next: bravery, and compassion for yourself.

Bravery because what’s new is unfamiliar, and everyone trips over uncharted terrain. You’ll need faith that these are the times in your life that will forge who you really are. Digging deep into your supply of bravery will give you strength in your convictions that this is the right path because it’s the only way to get to where you are supposed to be.

And compassion for yourself, because you will struggle. You will have ugly days, days that shake you and make you question whether it will be worth it in the end. Those are the times when you most need to extend yourself the grace of self-compassion.

It’s OK to feel frustrated or tired. It’s normal to doubt your decisions. Be gentle with yourself during those times. There will be days in the middle when you feel too tired to eat and too hungry to sleep. You must forgive yourself for dropping some of the plates you are trying to keep spinning. Some days you will simply be in survival mode.

Self-compassion can sometimes mean taking 30 seconds to breathe mindfully while you’re waiting in the checkout line or filling your gas tank. It may look like putting yourself to bed early instead of finishing that chapter in your book or numbing out in front of the television. It might mean frozen chicken nuggets for everyone at dinner.

Saying yes to a major life change will at times mean saying no to other obligations or tempting distractions. That’s hard to do. But it’s part of committing to the journey.

And it’s worth it, because these are the choices that define us and can make us who we were always meant to be. Shifting your perspective rejuvenates you like nothing else can. It can make for a very interesting and fulfilling life. And if the stars align and the timing is right, it can be what lets your soul burst into song and allow you to live your life at the top of your voice.