A hypothetical, if you will: Let’s imagine for most of your life you’ve worn the same shirt, taking it off only to sleep. In fact, you do your laundry overnight so the next day you can wake up and wear your shirt with no interruption. Your body knows this shirt, and the shirt takes on a second-skin quality, enviable by others who want this simple feeling of comfort and security and always knowing what the next day will bring.
If given the chance, they’d steal it from you. Rip it right off your back.
Until one day you very deliberately decide to not put on this shirt. It’s not that it’s worn out or that you don’t like it anymore. It’s because you want to know what it feels like to live without it – to be envious of what you have, so you can determine why what you have is so great.
You make a change. A big change. And you try another shirt on for size.
Opening up to change
This shirt, you immediately notice, isn’t as comfortable and doesn’t fit your body like you’re used to. You look in the mirror and you’re not sure you like what you see. It’s tempting to put the original shirt back on, but you’re too curious to see what it feels like to live without it.
Nobody envies you anymore. The way they look at you is how they look at everyone else. They wonder why you’ve given up the shirt that they desperately wanted. Or is this perception in your mind? After all, it’s you who has changed, not them. You feel different, wearing this different shirt – surely everyone must see this on your face. But maybe they don’t. Because no one can read your mind unless you tell them. And you’re not the only one wearing a shirt.
Wearing change on your sleeve
At first, you feel lousy. You used to be somebody in the eyes of others. You miss the comfort and security of knowing what came next.
Now, every new day brings a new shirt. But every day you also remind yourself: This experiment was about feeling different – to gain a sort of “outside looking in” perspective. And like this, you endure the change.
It’s uncanny how quickly this new reality takes hold. After a couple days, instead of feeling envious of your former self, you feel appreciative for what you had before but no longer have. You stop caring that other people don’t notice you the way they once had. And you find that by bending in this way, you’re able to open up to other changes beyond your shirt. New hairstyles. New shoes. Maybe even new pants.
Life is all about choice
We are creatures of habit. Whenever choice involves stepping beyond the comfort zone, it’s common to become depressed, wistful of the past and resentful of the present.
When choice involves possessions, or losing them – the type of car we drive, the kind of house we live in – it’s even easier to feel displaced or like someone’s judging you for what you no longer have. You’ll find, if you allow yourself to feel that discomfort – to move through it as it happens, one day at a time – that soon enough you’ll feel safe again.
It’s not until you leave comfort behind that you can find what is truly comforting: That the things we have, which seem to define us, really don’t define us at all.