I am deeply relieved to report that I do not have eye cancer. The verdict was ‘currently benign’. This week I have had three biopsies though, one on my nose, one in my hairline and one from my upper arm. I find out next week whether I need to visit my friendly plastic surgeon, again…
Change has therefore been on my mind more than ever.
I visited the rose garden at Old Parliament House last week again, where Mutabilis was flowering away. On this trip she was in a cerise mood, rather than her other options of creamy pink or slightly tangerine. Many roses change colour and tone through out their flowering cycle, its one of their many charms. I have never thought of the change in colour as bad. It’s just change, with one shade equally lovely as its predecessor. In fact, I often look for the change with a measure of anticipation. Has Homere gotten a bit pinker with this flush?
In contrast to how I look for change in nature, I find change in human affairs, especially in work affairs, to be a lot more like trouble. Somehow the idea we’re all supposed to take endless amounts of change unflusteredly has become entrenched. I’ve had employers who run change management seminars for their staff, often in relation to restructures. I’ve lost count of the number of restructures I’ve lived through and never once has there been any appreciable positive change at the Indian level. There’s so much change going on that I shy away from initiating changes closer to home that might be fundamentally positive in the long term.
Seeing as I am so change shy, I’m breaking this down into tiny steps. Just gathering data first. I’ve asked for some quotes, I’m doing lots of free writing to see if I can access some deeper layers of resistance, and I’m going back to the gardens to spend some more time with Mutabilis. I wonder what colour she’ll be today.