Change is not a Four Letter Word

Change is not a Four Letter Word, though sometimes it is used like one. It is a black widow spider armed with venom and a stinger to deaden those limbs that need to be severed. Those habits that need to be abandoned. Change can come as a shock, like a blow to the stomach or a slap to the cheek. She is almost never expected and almost always accompanied, darkly and with a mustache, by the mysterious stranger Unknown.

Eight weeks ago on Monday, Change slammed into my body and broke my kneecap.

Okay, I fell on my kneecap and broke my kneecap. But now, in the hindsight gained from a lot of time laying on my ass in the downstairs guest bedroom, I recognize that it was Change that broke my body not the floor I fell against.

Change had decided to visit me whether I invited her in for whisky or not.

In the weeks — the now almost two months — since Change set up residence in my house, I have hobbled through upheaval, wheeled around uncertainty, and cried in the face of loss. I have watched the things I thought I needed die while others broke ground, sprang to life like a sprout of new grass, budding like the trees outside my house.

I watched the end of one season and the beginning of another.

I let go of a valued friendship. Change carved out my heart and showed me it in a harsh light, and when I’d seen enough, she threw it on the pyre to burn. Change forced me to let someone walk away because right then I couldn’t chase them, and maybe Change had known that the time of running after instead of ahead of, was ending. In that moment, Change was Goodbye, an unfamiliar feeling to a girl who thought she didn’t really believe in endings.

I put a house that I love up for sale. Change reminded me of all the beauty, all my passion, as I painted the walls, watched the staircase be refinished, the flower beds planted, and the deck be stained back like new. Change told me this was the end, too, and I’d done all I could do. It took my claim away for someone new.

I began to walk again. To bend and straighten. To press up on tip toes and balance without wobbling. To feel less shaky, less like a victim, more like a hero. I felt my shoulders ease back and start to tighten with the certainty that I could and would and damn everything that would say otherwise.

Change gave that to me.

Change gave me hope.

No, Change is not a four letter word. It’s not ugly unless you ignore it, carrying around that dead limb and pretending that you don’t see it, that it’s still alive and capable of giving you what you need. Because once bitten, you will never again find the strength you once had. Never again will you walk that way and not stumble. Because…

Change is always violent.

Always a death and a resurrection.

Like the holiday coming up, like winter and spring, like goodbye and hello. Change always means It is Finished, It can begin. It always fights with you, bruising your ego, squashing your pride. It steamrolls what you expected and doesn’t have a band aid for your wounds.

But in the midst of all that meanness, Change promises there is more. And better. Dreams you have yet to see clearly, days you have yet to live fully. If only you will let Change do her work and let go.

Today I walked around a forty-nine acre garden. It hurt the now mostly mended but still weak leg Change has been trying to make new. It tingled inside me that this was the first day of the rest, and the pain was good, a sign something new was coming.

A sign I was almost ready to run.

Currently…

I’m participating in this blog hop thing my friend and fellow 2017 debut Katy Upperman has been doing for a while, which originated here. Check it out if you’re interested and join in whenever you like. And if you do, feel free to leave the link in my comments. I’ll pop over to your blog to see what you’re currently into!

Loving

I started working out again, and while I haven’t cut out wine completely, it feels really good to be back at it. I started using PiYo this week, thanks to an awesome friend who is a trainer, and my whole body is pissed off about it. Good times, you guys. Exercise is hard, but I feel like as a rule health is an important thing to invest in.

Reading

I’m reading the amazing YA debut The Island by Olivia Levez, about a young criminal girl marooned on a desert island. And it’s bold and stunning, but a bit of a nail biter. It’s a UK release, so right now we here in the States can only get it in ebook, but it releases in the US in September! Add it to your TBR, like, now! I’m also beta reading the YA WiP by my bestie Lindsay Cummings and holy moly you guyzzzz! I have all the heart eyes.

Watching

you-re-killing-me-smalls-the-sandlot-cast-then-and-now-551337

If you ever wonder what benefits there are to having children— besides, you know, tax breaks and someone to look after you when you’re old— getting to introduce them to your favorite childhood films is high up there. We watched The Sandlot with my son this week. He giggled and howled, nervously asked questions, grabbed my hand with anticipation, and we shared a story that greatly influenced my childhood and has become legend in American pop culture. At least, to me. And now, to him.

Listening To

I’ve been listening to a lot of Pokemon theme music with my son. I’m not embarrassed to admit that I throughly enjoy it. I know, you’re totally thinking, why, Rebekah, why would you share this with us? If you ever take the time to listen to the lyrics of the seasons one and three (Pokemon: Indigo League and Pokemon: The Johto Journeys) theme songs, and you can set aside the fact that these songs are about the pokemon life and not real life then you might find you’re like me. You might find you occasionally tear up because you too want to be the very best

 

Thinking About

My time away at Djerassi with Nova Ren Suma and eight other brilliant YA writers. I love my home, and my family, and I had work to come back to and life to submerge in, but it was hard to let go of the world we created there with each other, the quiet I found in my own head, and the words that flowed from it. Djerassi is a place where your creative spirit can roam free, and mine did. That freedom brought up a lot of thoughts and feelings, and when I had to harness myself again in the real world, I struggled. Still am, almost a week later. Djerassi is not the real world, it is a cocoon and so it makes sense that it hurt me to leave it. I am grateful for that time, and I think it was just what I needed.

Anticipating

The North Texas Teen Book Festival April 23rd!! I get to moderate two (two!!!) panels featuring AMAZING authors and that is all I can say about it right now so don’t ask. Subscribe to my blog or follow me on Twitter or Facebook for updates! *nervous jitters commence*

Wishing 

You guys would pop over to Goodreads and add my swoony, murdery upcoming YA fantasy novel set in a magical world inspired by Hawaii, Of Blood and Promises, to your to-be read list. It would make me feel things if you did.

Making Me Happy

Remembering our trip to LA with my son for Spring Break. I went from LA to Djerassi. From one beautiful series of days to another. I made memories with these humans that will stay with me forever. I got to introduce my son to Chewie and Space Mountain, to Santa Monica Pier, and my brilliant friend Alex’s cats Gatsby and Daisy, and every moment was joy making.