The Change

The Change couldn’t be seen while I was in it’s midst. It was only after it had taken place fully that I could recognize it. But once I gained that perspective, there was no way to see it any other way. When I was a kid my dad showed me one of those scrambled digital paintings, when you look at it at first you don’t see anything but if you stare long enough you’ll see a sailboat. Once you’ve seen the sailboat you can’t un-see it.

That was the change.

I finally gained the ability to see the change in my car one morning. It was cold, and I was in my car making my way to the bus. My commute, looked upon rationally, makes total sense. I take a 5 minute car ride (versus what would be 25 minute walk) and park in the town lot for a dollar. From there I take an express bus from my little hamlet north of the city into the heart of midtown. From there I walk 6 blocks and I get to park it in my office and work 10 hours before reversing the process and coming home.

Yet that morning I wasn’t being rational. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was something else, but I was livid that morning.

“Fuck this drive!”

“Fuck the bus!”

“Fuck my job!”

I was spitting these and other pissed off phrases inside my car — the beat up red sports car I bought before the change. When I got out of it, I turned and slammed the door. I looked back at the car was caked with frozen dirty and salt and decay of another winter.

Looking at the relic from before the change seeing how it had barely been surviving life post change, I finally was far enough away to see the change.