The Pleasure of Life
Gravity, change and the Rolling Stones
Chuck Hansen

NOTHING is more predictable than change. And NOTHING seems to take us so consistently by surprise.

"Can you believe how cold it is today? Man, it is so cold! Can you believe it?"

How many times in December, January and February do I find myself saying that in a conversation - and I really mean it! WOW, it's so cold, it's like it's…. WINTER.

I'll sit on my porch in the thick heat of our Virginia summer, and I cannot fathom the distant, hazy tree line as anything but green and full and sweaty. And yet… six months later, the trees are naked, and I'm saying idiotic things like, "Jeez, can you believe how bleak the woods look?"

Here's the thing about change: saying we need to learn to "cope" with change is like saying we need to learn to "cope" with gravity. Change isn't something that Al Gore dreamed up during the 1990s when he had nothing else to do. Change is like the Rolling Stones… it has always been part of existence, and it always will be.

In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if change is one of those elemental aspects of the universe, like time or light, and that someday some little Einstein will crack the code on change, translating it to mathematic equations and creating yet one more subject in which most of the world's school kids kick our kids' butts.

No, it's not change we need to learn to cope with. It is ourselves that we need to learn to cope with.

"But Chuck," I hear you whine, "change is really, really hard! I don't like it!"

Yeah, well, I don't like how much effort it takes me to pull myself up from the couch to my feet, walk into the kitchen, yank open the freezer door, wrestle the lid off a pint of Ben & Jerry's, and then walk all the way back to the couch again. But that New York Super Fudge Chunk ain't gonna float itself over to me. Gravity (not an optional part of life) is keeping that ice cream where it is and is going to fight me every step of the way over to the fridge. But there are some things you just gotta do. Neither gravity nor change is optional.

Parenting is a great example. "Well, I just don't know what's gotten into him," the parents of a pre-teen or teenager will say when the kid gets all sullen over some (seemingly) minor issue. And we mean it! We're stumped! "What happened to our little boy?" As if: A) we have never heard of the concept of cranky, independence-craving teenagers; and 2) we never were teenagers ourselves.

So we fall, mindlessly, right into the pattern, resenting the resentment, yelling about the yelling, banging on slammed doors, and on and on. The teenager's bad behavior shouldn't be excused, of course, but for God's sake, we shouldn't be so surprised. Gravity. Change. The IRS. Cute toddlers turning into grumpy teenagers. Get used to them. They're not going anywhere.

My brother Ken and his wife KT have always worked to push themselves emotionally forward, redefining their roles as parents in anticipation of the maturing of their kids, so that they never find themselves parenting a teenager like he was a toddler. Ken will be the first to tell you they haven't been successful, but at least they're aware of the issue and are trying.

I remember a colleague who brought her four-year-old son into work one day. They were buying a candy bar from the coffee cart, and the kid wanted to grab the candy from the cart himself. His mom stopped him mid-grab, scolding, "No! Mommy do! Mommy do!"

I swear she said, "Mommy do." Most fouryear old boys who heard that would think Mommy was using some hilarious bathroom language. Four year olds are pretty far beyond Spaghetti Western Injun' talk, but this mom was still the parent of a two year old in her mind and in her actions.

We invest a lot of emotion in the way things are, and even more in the way things used to be. But (supposing for a minute that ol' Al Gore is right), chaining ourselves to the way it is or used to be is like buying coastal property that's already 10 feet under the rising waters' surface. Unless you're going to build SeaLab 2020, you need to do some more thinking.