Change is possible
When we're in the midst of our darkest moments, it's easy to believe things will always be this way. A few reflections on grief, hope, and the possibility of change, from someone navigating some of life's biggest changes himself.
Looking for some support? If now is the time to consider coaching, reach out here.
People tend to call coaches when they need something to change. They rarely call when things are going great.
And most want to know, whether they ask explicitly or not, whether it is possible. Can things really change?
Can I turn my company around? Can I do this work without forfeiting my health? Can I escape the pain I’m experiencing with my co-founder? Can my relationship heal? Can I find meaning and energy again?
In the middle of my last business, I was desperate for change. I was deeply burned out. The business was struggling. My co-founder and I were on the outs. I was navigating the grief of losing my father and stepfather in the same year.
I know that question. Can things actually change? Can I change?
I know it personally. Deeply. In my gut and my bones.
I know it because in the darkest moments of my own life, I have glimpsed that line of thought: maybe I should just end the pain. The way I feel will never change. And I cannot keep doing this.
The key is to stay alive. To keep hoping. One day at a time, to keep trusting that change is possible. To find support wherever you can.
Grief, despair, our self-critics, they all play wicked tricks on us. They whisper that things will always be this way. That we probably deserve it anyway. That we may as well give up.
But wherever you find yourself today, whatever you are holding, facing, or navigating, know that change is not only possible, it is all there is.
Change is your birthright.
The universe was created by an explosion. And every atom in it has been in a state of change ever since. You are composed of change.
And often, the greatest clarity and hope are just on the other side of the darkest day.
Where I live in Los Angeles, the smog often inhibits the view. And then it rains. Not often. But when it does, it often rains for days at a time.
The skies are clearest right after those days of rain. You can see the mountains so clearly from the beach that you feel you live in a mountain town at the shore. Which we do, but often forget.
The fog of fear is like that. It’s easy to forget the mountains. To see beyond where you are standing.
The key is to keep going. Keep surviving. Keep believing.
So if you need a reminder today:
That your company can change. That your marriage can change. That your life can change. That your co-founder relationship can change. That you can change...
Consider this it.
And consider me right there alongside you in the question.
Sending you a big hug from Cow’s End in Venice, CA.
-Matt
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Looking for some support? If now is the time to consider coaching, reach out here.
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