On Change as a Thermometer

I’ve long been a creature of habit.

I derive comfort in rhythms, security in rituals.

As a trauma survivor, it’s easy to create the security I often lacked through structure.

I perform certain tasks on specific days, my nights are dictated by a bedtime checklist of breath work and gratitude journaling, and I feel the least anxious when I have a sense of what’s coming next in my days and weeks.

While it’s all well and good to live autonomously as a means of healing, life, by definition, defies my tight confines. Just as I’m feeling adjusted to my rhythms, something inevitably changes and affects the whole system.

Families grow. Friends move away. Jobs shift. Relationships alter.

It’s at this point of newness that I discover whether or not my rituals have made a lasting impact on regulating my mental and emotional health.

Change, I’ve learned, is a thermometer: a true indicator of my inner life’s health.

I may be able to sell myself a rose-colored version of reality most days (My anxiety has been so much better lately!), but when faced with change, I’m forced to reckon with the bare truth (Perhaps the root cause of my anxiety is still lurking beneath the surface–even if I’m successfully managing the symptoms.).

When my life inevitably alters in some way—when the coping mechanism of normalcy is gone—I learn whether I’ve been masking my hurt or actually healing it.

While this may sound unpleasant, I’ve come to (mostly) welcome change not only as a thermometer but also as an opportunity to course correct:

• As a new life stage brings up painful memories, it’s a chance to process and heal from those events in therapy.

• If relationships with family or friends are dredging up old anxieties, it’s an opportunity to explore and work through the roots of those anxieties.

• When a situation allows me to recognize wounds that aren’t actually healed, I can do the necessary work to facilitate that recovery.

Change is a reminder that healing and wholeness are lifelong pursuits, and while there are many things I can do to cultivate them, I should never consider their work complete.