The remarkable fact that led to Ketzel’s comment is that of the 300 people she heard from for her program, not one complained that they wished they hadn’t made their dramatic life change. In fact they often welcomed the changes despite personal hardships.

In one story, 41 year old Casey Amato followed her dream to become a police officer after a personal crisis transformed her sense of self. Leaving behind a 20 year career in publishing, her family and son, she moved 600 miles from home to make a life change she had always wanted.

What are you willing to do for your dreams?

A client makes a powerful metaphor for the changes he’s made in life: He started in a wide river packed with one-man canoes all going with the current. One day he turned right and started paddling with all his might against the current and away from all the other boats, bringing stares of disbelief from those still with the flow. Now he’s headed his own way along an isolated tributary in the wilderness -- toward what he really wants in life. He jumps into change with both feet and paddles like hell!

Do you feel the strength and courage it takes to choose change in life? Do you see how that courage comes through in all these approaches? Margit is a study in persistence; I hold on through the crests and valleys; and my client relies on willpower and muscle to get across the river.

However you approach it, change is hard, scary, exhilarating and life affirming. And it will happen in some way or form, whether you are ready for it or not. Take a look at your own change-style so you can welcome it, not fear it. Let your courage shine through!

I turned 33 the other day. Big deal, you might say. Believe me, I feel the same way. I’m not a big fan of birthdays. Why should I acknowledge that I’m another year older when I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday? It’s like right after New Year’s when you write the year wrong for a whole week before your brain clicks and figures out it’s really a new year.

I do admit, though, that a few things did change between age 32 and 33. Not earth-shattering things, just stuff that wasn’t part of my reality before. One such thing was that I started buying eye cream. At some point during the last 12 months, I woke up, looked in a mirror and realized that overnight my eyes had become wrinkly, squinty peepholes in my face. And it got worse whenever I smiled. Great. Well, at least now my “laugh lines” have some new friends to keep them company.

So I went in search of some sort of product that would be gentle enough for the eye area, maybe something I could put on before bed, some elusive balm to keep the skin moisturized so things wouldn’t get worse. I prepared myself, figuring I’d maybe have to get creative and develop an alternative use for some existing product. (My sister-in-law says hemorrhoid cream works wonders on her acne). I was shocked to go to the drugstore and find that there were literally dozens of creams specifically designed for eye wrinkles! After about a half hour, I finally settled on two products I liked. I picked the one whose best selling point was that it had the word “intensive” in the name. In bold, even. Oh yeah, and it cost $4 more than the other for no apparent reason, so I knew it must be better. A half- ounce tube for 15 bucks seemed like a splurge. I’ve used it diligently for months. Newsflash: It doesn’t work.

Another thing I noticed in the last year is that teenagers have started doing the unthinkable. They’ve started calling me “Ma’am”. Perhaps they’ve been doing this for a while, but I just didn’t notice before. You might think that as a responsible adult I’d appreciate this polite gesture from today’s youth. But you’d be wrong. It might not be politically correct to say, but I mostly just want to backhand slap them when they call me that. I bet some of those elderly ladies being helped across the street really want to take their canes and whack those do- gooders in the knees.

At the supermarket the other day, I was particularly impressed with my grocery-bagger’s technique. Usually, when I’m being rung up, I have one eye on the clerk and one eye on the bagger and I’m ready to jump in and rearrange things if I need to. But this kid treated my groceries like a precious commodity. I mean, he put all the frozen stuff in one bag. Just how I like it. He put my pint of ice cream in a mini paper bag to keep it cold on the way home. He put the bread in last so it wouldn’t get smashed. Needless to say, I was in grocery-store heaven. That is until I smiled and said “Thank you so much” and he said, “You’re welcome...Ma’am”.

But what’s to complain about? Yes, I might be another year older and one step closer to my grave. But I’m also happier and healthier and wiser than ever, so there! Not to mention, I can’t even count how many times people have told me, “You look great...for your age”. Ouch.

© 2006 Denise L. Royer

Guest writer Denise Royer is a human resources consultant from Alexandria, VA. She finds humor in all of life's changes and encourages you to do the same.