In physics a “cycle” can mean…
…a complete alteration in which a phenomenon attains a maximum and minimum value, returning to a final value equal to the original one.
I get stuck in cycles. Maybe we all do.
For the past, oh, three or four years I get stuck in a yearly cycle. It typically runs from September to September and this year is proving to be no exception, only it feels like I can’t seem to move past the first phase of the cycle.
The good news is that I’m aware of it. The bad news is I don’t know what to do about it. Or maybe I do know what to do about it but just won’t do it. I’m not sure which is worse at this point since they both end in the same result.
At any rate, there are certain traits to this cycle that feel a bit different. I certainly think it is a phenomenon right now that is resulting in a maximum value of “Chris Kinsley” and a minimum value of him as well. In theory that would result in a “me” at the end that is equal to the value of who I was at the beginning, hence the circular nature of a cycle, this one included.
If it does, then I’m no better than I was before. No different. The same.
Who wants to be that?
Maybe you do, but I’ve always struggled with self-loathing and consider personal growth (be it spiritual, mental, emotional, or physical) to be greatly valued (for an example, notice my considerable girth).
So, I want to be different, ever changing, improving, growing.
Cycles are my enemy.
So, why not let go of the cycle(s)?
In many ways my job (for at least a few years anyway) has been cyclical. Sure, there were certain aspects of it that would change or be new, but not the major stuff. I could program camp in my sleep if I wanted to.
But now that’s not my responsibility anymore. Yet I kinda want it to be.
I’ve been through the cycle before. It’s a cycle, after all, and not just any cycle, but a repetitive one. I know it. Well. I know there is an end to it. I know things will turn out okay, if not good or great. It’s safe, the cycle is. It’s steady. In many ways it’s comfortable.
But it sucks. And it’s bad. And it’s wrong.
Cycles have to be broken. And normally a slight course correction doesn’t do the trick. It’s too easy to wander back in to your old ruts.
What is often required is a major catalyst for change. Something that stands in almost direct opposition to where you were going. It’s a force acting upon you to cause a different outcome. It’s combustible and dangerous and scary and strange and wonderful and exciting and invigorating and transforming.
Reading back over this I think it’s important to note that I was using my job as something that has been (in many ways) cyclical to my life. My job has changed. Therefore, it’s not cyclical anymore, unless it’s just the beginning of a new cycle. Though, I’d have to tell you I don’t see that being the case. I say that’s important to note because I know people I work with or that know people I work with sometimes stumble upon this blog and I don’t want you all thinking that I’m writing about the job. ‘Cause I’m not.
I’m also not being purposefully vague. I hate when people do that, like they want you to ask them about it or wonder what unspeakable challenges they could be facing or chalk-up their lack of interpersonal skills to some charming aloofness.
This is just an instance where this post is mostly for me. So I can say some things for myself. Having any of you read it, that might, is just a good gauge for how seriously I mean it. I have to really wrestle with writing things on here because they might be read. And who am I kidding? I hope they are read. So, you provide an odd accountability for me, in a way.
All this to say… I’m stuck in a cycle. I don’t like it. I need and want a change. I’m actively and purposefully looking for it.
I hope I find it.
Or that it even just happens.
I hope I don’t miss it.
Or mess it up.
And I hope that in the end the rewards outweigh the risks.
They usually do, but even if they don’t this time, maybe simply having the cycle broken is reward enough.
Know what I mean?
I know what you mean…I blame the traditional education system. It seems like it sets us up for living cyclical lives for (hopefully) at least 13 years. Then most of us stumble on for at least another four; maybe more. Then…we continue to live on the semester system until our minds and bodies realize “Hey! Why don’t I get summer/winter/January/spring break?” And then they get angry and we look for a change to shock us out of it. At the same time, we don’t really want a change because of the comfort in the familiar…which is cyclical. Which, if you think about it, kinda starts another cycle, which totally blows. Ugh.
At least it’s that way for me…
I liked this. I feel the same way sometime, though not lately.
I think the trick is to change little cycles that we get in, mundane things like driving the same route to and from places every day, skipping a meal, leaving town for no reason. These little things contribute to major and significant ruts and changing one can disrupt a lot. It can make you uncomfortable, or late, or lost, or make people worry and wonder about you, but they interrupt the self-inflicted monotony. The bigger cycles are trickier. They’re about getting attached to and NEEDING them because they make us feel safe, or they define us. The trick there is a sort of a controlled apathy. If you lost your job, would you freak out? Would you care and why? Letting things like jobs, expectations, reputations creep in and draw us into these cycles creates that security blanket effect and it creates a tether that’s very hard to break. Learning to not care is what truly and finally breaks those cycles. You have to get to the point where, if your world came crashing down you can shrug and say “ok, whatever” and move on.
“The ability to let that which doesn’t matter, truly slide” is what they call it in Fight Club (which is the i-Ching, and the sum of all wisdom). I’m kidding about that part, but it’s true. Then you’re not tied to anything, you don’t need anything, you don’t glean security or a sense of self from any of those things that, in the end, really don’t matter. And, I think, there’s a certain “leap of faith” quality in that. Faith that I’ll be cared and provided for, faith that my identity is in something greater.