I am a man of consistency.
This trait has always been with me. I loved the comfort, the reliability, of racking up ever longer tenures at whatever were the main things in my life. I felt it made me accountable and mature – it demonstrated that I wasn’t just waffling in the wind, attracted to whatever shiny object was in front of me.
In school, I loved that I was in the same district from kindergarten through ninth grade, and I was positively crestfallen when my parents came home one day and announced we were moving, and that I would likely finish my school career in a different district. To my mom’s credit, after we moved, she dutifully drove me to my school, so I could finish junior high in the place I was comfortable. A funny thing, really, considering I’d be hard pressed to name something in my life I liked less than junior high school (maybe – maybe! – orthodontia). But not only was I committed to finishing ninth grade in the school where I had begun it, I spent those last few months of the school year trying to concoct a means to high school in the same district. In the end, though, it didn’t happen. I transferred school districts.
But as I aged, I was more in control of my own life. Despite my roommates best efforts to derail our year-long lease, I tried valiantly to stay in our duplex for the year, and felt it the height of failure that I had to break the lease and move back home.
But I learned from that mistake.
As my adulthood has now lasted longer than my childhood, I can look back on a string of consistency. I took pride in the length of my jobs (I’ve been with my current employer fifteen years and counting), and even the length of my car ownership (my record is 16+ years, and my current vehicle I’ve owned for 9 1/2 years). I love that I’ve lived in my house for over eight years – though I am always badgered by the shorter stints at other residences – because as I walk through it, I can see signs of the changes, the improvements I’ve made, everywhere.
I even carry this into my kids’ lives, trying to ensure consistency for them. When it was time to leave the house where Owen lived for his first 2 1/2 years, I was sad. Partly for me, yes, because I knew it would mean another change, but also for him. I wanted him to grow up in the same house from birth to adulthood. And when it was time to leave the apartment, I was again sad that 6-yr-old Owen would have to move again, and I was even more sad that Isla (who was 13 months-old) would never remember the home where she was born. And I fought against changes in life that almost meant Owen would have to transfer out of his elementary school, and I was even disappointed when his elementary school removed their 6th-grade, because that meant his tenure their would only be six years, instead of seven. But now I’m proud that Emmett has lived his entire life in one house, and all of my kids attend the same school – and I hope they will all graduate from it in due time.
I also took pride in the length of my marriage, and I counted the days that passed as it eclipsed, in length, the marriages of other friends and family members, just as I have taken silent satisfaction in my home-ownership outlasting those of other people in my life. I even view it as a feature of my life that I’ve always been a Minnesota, that I’ve spent most of every month of my life in Minnesota, and that everywhere I’ve ever lived, worked, and schooled has been within 50 miles of where I am right now.
I have books, games, music, and other paraphernalia from decades ago. When I start something, I finish it. It took me eight years to complete my junior and senior years of college. It took me 20 years to complete my goal of seeing every Alfred Hitchcock film. It took me three years to reconstruct my lists after my dad threw them away, and it’s taken me 30 years to maintain them til today. But I’ve done it. You can count on that. I am a reliable, consistent person. Like the song says, “I’m here in my mold, I am here in my mold…I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no.”
So, I take pride in my consistency. But consistency isn’t permanence.
ETA: Or perhaps not? At a recent meeting with a financial advisor (his advice? make more money), he qualified that “Permanent” essentially means “until we change it.”