Metathesiophobia

Try a thing you haven't done three times. Once, to get over the fear of doing it. Twice, to learn how to do it. And a third time to figure out whether you like it or not. 
-Virgil Thomson


Welcome to my first blog post. I might as well come right out and tell you all that I suffer from metathesiophobia. It means "fear of changes." All changes, really. For example, I discovered earlier this week that two familiar restaurants have closed and been replaced by something else. This was briefly disturbing to me. I hardly ate at either of them, but I appreciated that they were there. It was a difficult minute and a half.

There have been a lot of changes in my life recently - big and small; welcome and unwelcome. Even the more pleasant changes are hard for me to get used to.  An associate of mine at The New Mexico Breeze used the above quote in his column, and it made an impression on me. I'm trying to apply it to my fear of change. I believe I'm somewhere between the first and second steps. I am getting over my fear of change, and perhaps someday, I'll even learn to do it gracefully. As to the third stage... well, the jury is still out on that one.

Today is a big day for me. First because, as you may have noticed, I am writing my very first blog entry, after years of toying with the idea. Starting a blog can be a frightening ordeal. What if no one reads it? Or worse - what if lots of people read it?! Some will judge me based on.... my passion for saturated fats and dishwashers, perhaps? Others will scoff at me for blogging at all, because it seems to have become a trend. And yet a third party may simply find me boring. Then again, maybe boring is a nice change from the constant pressure of their fast-paced, adventure-filled lives?

The real reason today was a big day was that I joined a church. I am officially a covenant member at Desert Springs Church. This decision has been in the works for a very, very long time. There are too many fears to count, all wrapped up in this one decision. For 2 years, I've been a shadow there, sneaking in and out through the side door. I was in what my pastor calls a "hide and heal season."  Now, I'm expected to get involved somehow, meet people and speak to them in complete sentences, and be accountable to a group of people... generally act like a human being. And I must do all of this without the comfort of my family by my side.  There is a voice in my head that is still terrified, but she's the one who hates us and doesn't want us to be happy. We're trying not to talk to her anymore.  The rest of me knows that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be, and I'm excited to see where these changes will bring me.