Are you adaptable to change?

seadoug said:
I was not very adaptable as a child. My parents moved from a small town in NC to Tampa, FL when I was 8 years old. I left all my good friends behind and used to cry at night because I had no longer had any friends.

As I got older, I think I just got used to putting things behind me. My father passed away when I was 43 y/o and I suddenly had to become the head of the family with a mother I needed to take care of. My company moved from Miami to Seattle in 2011. I was one of the few employees they kept because I worked remotely, but it was a nightmare because no one in the new location knew anything about the company. In each case, I just decided that change is inevitable and I just needed to adapt.

Are you adaptable to change? I know there are several here that have been through divorce or the loss of a spouse. I would imagine there are many who have learned to adapt.
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I really hate change and as I get older. I adapt less graciously.
 

yes, I love change.. change for the good or better obviously... but my whole life has revolved around change, so if I wasn't adaptable to that then I would be a basket case by now..

Having been sent to live in foster homes as a child due to my mothers' ill health , and then had to grow up very fast from a child after losing my mother, then raising my siblings. Then as an adult married twice..lived and worked in several European countries..Raised my daughter alone from when she was just 6 years old.. had lots of jobs and 2 careers which were very demanding, and were different day to day.. ... had to help deal with the deaths of young close family members who yet had their lives in front of them... the devastation to their parents, my siblings... ..

I could fill a book as many of us could who have gone through a lifetime of change . I don't think I'm finished yet, I hope not.. but I hope any change for me in the future will be for the good, and have all the bad behind me
 
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A good many years ago, round about 1995, I remember stopping into a gas station to fill up and get a cup of coffee. I was on my way to see a friend. The day was bright and rather agreeable.

I went into the station, got my coffee, and asked the clerk for 20 dollars of gas. That would totally fill the tank. All good.

As I walked out, I grabbed the gas pump and filled the Ford, while sipping the warm brew. As I finished, I noticed an older gentleman struggling with the hose for his gas. He didn’t realize he was trying to fit a diesel hose into his non-diesel car. They don’t fit in there for a reason. I figured he was in his late 60s by his confusion and demeanor. I was 36, my life ahead of me.

The guy was fuming, frustrated, swearing. I walked over to him. He said, “Do you work here.” I said, “No. Can I help you?” He told me the “damn hose doesn’t fit.” I told him it was the diesel hose and he yelled, “Why don’t they say so?”

I felt bad for the guy. It was obvious to me that he pulled up to the diesel pump – but he didn’t notice. He was thrust into a world he didn’t comprehend, and he was frustrated.

It is now 2023 and I am that guy. Just yesterday, I stopped for gas on my way to my part-time job as an Academic Coach at a learning center. I coach the youth of Southern Georgia how to get good marks on the SAT. Such things are no longer taught in public schools – for reasons that will go unattended in this narrative.

I stopped into the gas station for a cup of coffee. I figured I would splurge a few bucks for the warm brew. Instead of a coffee pot or a simple coffee dispenser I was faced with what seemed to me the dashboard of a space shuttle. This new-fangled coffee kiosk threatened me with a 10-step process to retrieve coffee. It was so needlessly complicated – like a modern-day Rube Goldberg apparatus. All I saw were arrows and dozens of choices that required different decisions. There was no identifiable sprocket for the coffee. Nothing made sense. I broke into a cold sweat. Guys behind me were waiting. I had no concept of how to handle the machine. Nothing made sense. Each decision led to a slew of offshoot decisions – each needlessly more complicated than the rest.

I shouted, “I just want a cup of coffee.”

Finally, a bedraggled elderly black man – his tattered rags askew – walked me through the process. I felt as if I was on another planet, and everyone knew how things worked – but me.

I thanked the guy and went on my way. Scared and bent, I went into the Sylvan Learning Center to tell the youth about grammar. They don’t know about it. It’s all NEW to them.
 
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Old&InTheWay said:
I stopped into the gas station for a cup of coffee. I figured I would splurge a few bucks for the warm brew. Instead of a coffee pot or a simple coffee dispenser I was faced with what seemed to me the dashboard of a space shuttle. This new-fangled coffee kiosk threatened me with a 10-step process to retrieve coffee. It was so needlessly complicated – like a modern-day Rube Goldberg apparatus. All I saw were arrows and dozens of choices that required different decisions. There was no identifiable sprocket for the coffee. Nothing made sense. I broke into a cold sweat. Guys behind me were waiting. I had no concept of how to handle the machine. Nothing made sense. Each decision led to a slew of offshoot decisions – each needlessly more complicated than the rest.

I shouted, “I just want a cup of coffee.”
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Oh dear. Reminds me of when I went to Tokyo, about 25 years ago. My contact there had rather an abrupt personality. At the subway station, she bought her ticket from the modern-looking machine and strided on ahead. When I got to the machine, six options were listed on the screen, in Japanese and English. I knew where I was going, but I didn't know how to get a ticket. She yelled from afar, "Press the button! Press the button!" There was no button. I'd never seen a touch screen before.

I was supposed to stay at her place, but she said there was a change in plans. She recommended that I stay at the Olympic Village hostel. She took me to the entrance and left. The woman at the desk didn't speak English; she simply shook her head and looked away. I can't remember how I finally ended up in a room. Probably some kind person was able to translate.

There were other bad things about that trip, but never mind.
 
I have had to adapt to many changes over the years. None were of my choice. Somehow, I adapted, stepped up and did the best I could. I think I have said before, I have put everything out there. Now, I am physically and mentally done. No more changes, don't have to worry about work, money, taking care of family members, they have all passed.

I am still getting used to my son, grown, married in his own home. I still miss them living here but I know they need to build the life they want. I had never lived alone, it was a hard thing, not seeing my son every day. It has been 3 years since they bought their home and I still get panicked once in a while.
 

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