Esther

 

Ramblings of a Retired Mind

Can I Change?

The question hit me today: Can I really change?

A simple inquiry, yet somehow endlessly complicated. I’ve always believed that part of our purpose in life is to keep learning, seek new experiences, and grow. But for all its importance, change is hard—much harder than I like to admit. Some days it feels as though I’m living in a permanent state of self-renovation.

This drive toward self-improvement shows up everywhere. There are the shifts I know I need to make, and the personal adjustments I owe my wife. Then there are the subtle behavioral tweaks—the ones that affect friendships and everyday interactions. The feedback I receive is rarely cushioned:

• “Bob, you’re talking too much.”

• “Stop interrupting me!”

Statements delivered with the sting of inconvenient accuracy.

Still, I’m willing to put in the work. I’ve changed before, even when I fought it at first. For years, I terrified passengers with my driving, brushing off their fear with the smug line, “That’s just how I drive.” The truth was simpler: I just didn’t want to change. About ten years ago, I finally admitted I’d been a jerk, constantly scaring my wife. So I did the hard thing—I changed my driving habits. Eventually, the new habits became my norm.

Now, if I could just stop narrating how awful everyone else on the road is, my wife would be thrilled. But I know this much: I’m a work in progress. And yes, my running commentary about other drivers definitely falls under the category of “Bob, you talk too much!”

The irony, of course, is that talking too much actually helped me build a successful retail career. I’d chat with customers until they finally relented with a laugh and said, “Yes, we’ll take it!” I worked hard—often more than sixty hours a week—leaving before the kids woke up and coming home long after they were asleep. I never would have survived those years without the strength of my beloved. And when she says, “Bob, stop talking so much!”—well, even I know when to zip it. Mostly.

Then there’s our son, one of the most remarkable people I know (yes, I’m biased). He has worked hard to become who he is today, and one of his greatest strengths is his ability to truly listen. When I was in college, my first professor had one rule: before anyone could answer a question, they had to repeat it. His point was simple—you can’t understand a question if you’re too busy planning your answer. I see that same quality in my son. He listens fully, absorbs what he’s heard, and only then responds. As for me… well, developing that habit is going to take serious effort. Let’s be honest: I love to talk.

So this New Year, I’m tackling two habits—both of which should have retired decades ago.

1. I’m going to stop interrupting.

My wife, my friends, the poor soul checking my groceries—everyone deserves to finish a sentence without me jumping in like I’m trying to win a game-show buzzer round.

2. I’m giving up the classic comeback.

“Well, you do it too!”
That childish “I know I am, but so are you!” routine is headed straight to the landfill where it belongs.

So that’s my big challenge for the year—two habits. Well… all right, three, because apparently I also need to stop turning chicken into charcoal briquettes on the grill.

One step at a time, though.
Let’s not get crazy.