by Nancy Agneberg
All summer my husband Bruce has been painting the exterior of our house. Now, instead of gold-yellow, the house is a refreshing and uplifting aqua blue. The trim is a clean white as is the stucco, replacing an off white in need of a good scrubbing, and the window boxes are now a crisp black, rather than the faded forest green of previous years.
The house is transformed. We love the new look.
The house may date from the 20s, but the new look has given it new life and it has become, in the words of Meridel Le Sueur: "Luminous with age."
Of course, this transformation did not happen without a vision of what this house could look like; nor did it come about without work. Bruce spent many days on the ladder this summer, and once he started there was no turning back—we could have second-guessed ourselves and decided we didn't like the chosen color.
We didn't have to be as bold as we were. We might have selected a safer one, like white or grey. But it would not have been possible to return to the old house colors.
My job was to notice the change and to encourage and compliment and reinforce. Sometimes a person just needs to get used to the change.
Transformation is like that. You just get used to it.
Joan Chittister says that an important part of the aging process "lies in simply getting accustomed to being older."
With us, that hasn't that always been the case. We've needed time to get used to other changes in our life, even times we've chosen them—time to adjust to living or working someplace new or time to accept a health challenge or a loss of a relationship.
Over our many years we have had to experience change and transformation.
We know how to do this, even when it isn't easy. Even when it requires patience.
But that's what I love about transformation—the process reminds us that no matter who you are, how old you are, what has happened to you in the past, or what you have or haven't done—it is still possible to be and do something new.
I wonder if the transformation of our house will encourage others to make a change, too—perhaps not as radical a change as we have made. But maybe others will become more open to color in some areas of their life, or perhaps our home will encourage lightness as they walk to the bus stop each morning. Maybe it will give them an unexpected lift.
I do know that transformation spreads. Change can't contain itself, but expands.
What is waiting to be transformed in your life?
What new "color" is calling you?
About the Author
Nancy Agneberg is a spiritual director and writer on topics related to spirituality. In 2014, she returned to Saint Paul, Minnesota after having lived in Cleveland, Ohio and Madison, Wisconsin for twenty years. She is a cancer survivor. If you are interested in spiritual direction, please visit her website here.
Reblogged from original post here.