“Things do not change, people change.”
Henry David Thoreau

I’m the kind of person who likes change; I really like it. I regularly move my furniture around, change the art on my walls, or simply change walls.

And even though (or because) I spent my growing up years in the same small rural town where I born and subsequently graduated from high school, I have since made change one of the absolute constants in my adult life.

Career changes…

Look at the number of places where I’ve worked: on reflection, I’m bemused by how much I thought I knew at 22. Enough to bamboozle my way into a real estate development firm as its “marketing director”…right out of college. Or perhaps I was the one bamboozled, when I got my first paycheck, right out of college.

That job led to the next one, though, which set me up for my ongoing career (I’m currently living the dream, making a living as a writer). And as far as job longevity goes, some of my work life has been fairly consistent—five years here, eight years there. Of course, I was able to stay at these organizations as long as I did because I regularly changed titles, supervisors, and even locations.

After the eight years and the variety of job descriptions at one company, I moved from my adopted hometown to a college town for graduate school. I had been earning my master’s degree nights and weekends, but that change wasn’t happening fast enough for me. I’m not surprised.

Home changes…

So I sold my house, bought some luggage and my first TV with a remote, and moved into a great basement apartment. I parked my car, rode my bike to class, and taught with an assistantship until I graduated that same year—finally fast enough for me.

The basement stint was in the middle of 13 residential moves in 10 years. Since then, I’ve calculated a total of 18 relocations in the last 18 years—actual physical moves where I completed a change of address with the U.S. post office. I’m sure on some no-fly watch list by now.

During the time after graduate school, I also changed employment five times. In the past, such changes on a résumé would be considered job-hopping. Not anymore, I’m finding. It’s not that loyalty is dead…it’s more that change is king.

When I moved cities (again), I lived with my mother for a while, then moved to my own home. In the next five years I would stay in this home, but I would change jobs a few times, change cars (three times), and change the furniture around in my house almost monthly.

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This seemed to be enough change.

Then my mother changed my life when she died on her 89^th birthday.

Life changes…

After that, change muscled me around—change was in charge. Suddenly I was laid off from my four-year full-time job; I found a part-time job in yet another city. I slept on friends’ couches at night and in my car sometimes during lunch. I found myself bereft in an unfamiliar, unwelcome whirlwind of change.

Then I quit my job, sold my house, some of my jewelry, and most of my furniture. I bought more luggage, gave away my TV with the remote, and moved to Turkmenistan with the Peace Corps.

In charge of change…

I’m  back home now and I am definitely in charge of my change…after two more changes of address, two (pre-owned) cars, and multiple freelance writing projects.

Like Gandhi, I am the change I want to see in the world…(to be continued).

AWD 6.15