This afternoon I continued painting the bathroom I started painting yesterday. It’s coming along. Today I rolled on a second coat, and the walls went from being one-coat-blah to there-we-go-that’s-nice. The more I paint, the more I’m reminded of the lessons it teaches. For one thing, nothing happens all at once. There’s always a process. One coat, two coats, sometimes three (all these coats get paint on me). For another, every process involves waiting. I always want to get projects done in one day, but painting goes better when you don’t–because the paint needs time to dry. Plus, whenever you walk away from something, you can come back to it later with a new perspective.

For as many rooms as I’ve painted over the years, I’m continually amazed by The Process. Both before the first brushstroke and after the last one, I stare at a room in amazement. Before I think, This is such a mess. How am I going to do this? After I think, Wow! I did it. This is SO MUCH better. Suddenly all the hard work and long hours become worth it.

Hard work and long hours are the only way I’ve found to turn a room around, by the way. You’ve simply got to put in the time and you’ve got to break a sweat (or pay someone else to) if you want solid results. Knowing this, I still get overwhelmed. Just today I thought, I’m never going to get this bathroom done. But then I reminded myself that in that moment it wasn’t my job to paint the entire bathroom. Rather, in that moment it was my job to paint the square foot of wall in front of me. Just that one square foot. So that’s what I did. Over and over again, I concentrated on the section of wall in front of me, and–eventually–I covered the whole room. This is how I’ve written 870 consecutive blogs (including tonight’s)–one blog at a time.

As I was painting today I thought a lot about change (for obvious reasons). Stephan Hoeller points out that there are three types of change–cyclical change (as in the seasons), linear change (as in growing older or trading in one vehicle or outfit for another), and transformational change (as in a caterpillar becoming a butterfly). Transformational change involves the death of an old life (the caterpillar) and the birth of a new one (the butterfly). Sticking with the house metaphor, transformational change would involve knocking down old walls and putting up new ones. (At the very least painting a wall and rearranging, or better yet, buying all new furniture–preferably nothing cheap from IKEA unless, of course, you’re in college). Hoeller says this is really why we’re down here on planet earth–not to learn something, but to transform–though few of us are willing to put in the hard work and time required to do so.

Jesus said, “Behold, all things are become new,” and I would say this is the test as to whether the process of transformation (not just linear change) has begun in your life. Is EVERYTHING at least starting to look different than it used to? Robert Ohotto explains it this way. When you have a pattern of behavior (let’s say you’re a perfectionist or a people pleaser), that pattern touches every relationship in your life. Because that pattern CREATED every relationship in your life. Well, let’s say you wake up one day and have the little thought, I’d like to stop being such a hard ass about everything, or I’d like to stop giving a shit what everyone else thinks of me. If you’re serious–whoops! This means that everything your perfectionist or people pleaser created–every relationship–now has to shift, perhaps crumble, in order to make room for more productive patterns and their subsequent creations to step in.

So look out.

This shift in relationships (to other people, to money, to yourself) is what has traditionally been referred to as The Dark Night of the Soul and what Ohotto calls The Dark Night of the Ego (because what’s dark for your soul?). Quite frankly, it’s the process I’ve been going through these last five plus years, and, although it’s a necessary part of transformation, it’s not fun. It’s why I say the truth will set you free (sort of) and why I say I don’t recommend this path. In truth, I do recommend it, but transformation is an ugly and uncomfortable business, and I’d like to be ever clear about that. In the Bible, Jonah was three days in the belly of the whale, and Christ was three days in the grave. Before the Phoenix rose anew from the ashes, it dis-integrated into ashes. Hoeller says before a caterpillar becomes a butterfly, it becomes “a black goo.” Ohotto says before you can become SOMEBODY, you must first become NOBODY. So the point has been made time and time again–death precedes life.

I don’t like this any more than you do.

[One last thing. In terms of tonight’s photo, which features me holding a sign that says, “Be awesome today,” I feel like I need to add–like, no pressure.]