“If you are stuck in a rut today, it’s because you got comfortable there.” ~ Unknown

Take a good look at the photo above with it’s old-fashioned automobiles. Remember the good old days? When bread was 10 cents per loaf? Fuel was 32 cents per gallon? Straight skirts and pointy-toed heels were all the rage? Yeah . . . I don’t remember them either because I wasn’t born until 1967. By that time, things had changed. Automobiles had evolved, fuel was higher, fashions had shifted to bell bottoms and macrame espadrilles.
There are a few phrases which can get my hackles up in an instant:
“We’ve always done it this way . . . .”
“You don’t normally . . . . “
“Well routinely . . . “
“You always . . . ” or “You never . . . “
It puts my teeth on edge when I hear these at the start of a sentence as it usually denotes a change that is being negated in some fashion. Change is not always a bad thing. Historically it has led to great accomplishments.
As a person with Asperger’s, routine is a comforting thing for me. But even I have learned that a change in routine is not always a bad thing. Partly as a job requirement, part being observant and situationally aware, I do not drive the same way twice.
Hair is another canvas for change that can have different meanings. Many women will get a haircut when they feel things are out of control because their hair length is one thing they CAN control. Many men assume when a woman changes her hair style it is because she has met another man and wants to impress him. For the love of the saints . . . maybe she just wants a change!!!! Perhaps she’s tired of parting her hair on one side and wants it parted on the other — will the world stop turning? I had long hair almost to my waist but when COVID hit and I was required to frequently change masks, I cut my hair to just above shoulder length to keep the straps of my masks from getting caught in my hair and pulling. It was a logical, reasonable move. I have never in my life styled my hair to please anyone but myself.
Above all, I don’t like attention. If I do something a little bit differently, or that has heretofore been at a level of discomfort for me — for someone to bring attention to it makes me want to crawl into my shell and hibernate. Change is difficult enough, but to have someone comment on it and bring it up feels like someone shining a spotlight on me for an interrogation: “Why did you do this? You’ve never done this before! You normally don’t do things like this. There must be some ulterior motive!” Well, gee, I guess because the wind was coming from the east and my vinegar-and-sass self felt like doing something different today.
