Adaptation

St Charles Parish, Louisiana - swamp view

I have had friends visiting for the past few days, and yesterday they treated me to an airboat swamp tour. I have been on swamp tours before, but always on a larger pontoon boat. The airboat experience was really cool.

Whatever type of boat you are on, swamp tours have some lowest common denominators. You see alligators up close. You learn a little about alligator biology. You learn a little about the importance of the nature, and how it should be respected.

On every swamp tour I have been on, alligators are fed raw chicken and marshmallows. The guides always warn the participants that the alligators are not to be touched, and that they are still wild unpredictable creatures, but if you pay attention you can see that the alligators have been conditioned to coming up to the boat to be fed.

They have adapted to being alligators on a swamp tour, in a semi-protected habitat. Man is not their enemy in this environment. Man is a dependable food source. The alligators still fight among themselves, and given the opportunity and hunger would still attack a human or eat a pet. But mostly, they live within their species hierarchy, and put on a show for the paying customers.

When I was still working and conducting leadership and safety in the workplace seminars, I often said that one of the best things about humans is that they are an adaptable species, and at the same time one of the worst things about humans is that we are an adaptable species.

When I think about the adaptations the alligators in a swamp tour protected habitat have made, I don't see a huge downside for the alligators.

When I think about humans adapting to a change in environment, it feels more complicated. I have had to do quite a bit of adapting over the last few years, but the most permanent adaptations have had to happen since Cecil died.

And being forced to adapt to circumstances you can't change is hard. Especially when you would do anything in your power to get your old world back.

The guide yesterday pointed out that new alligators show up in the protected swamp sometimes, and they have to be really careful interacting with them until they adapt. Time is allowed for adaptation.

With a death, there is no gradual adaptation. In fact, when you are a primary caregiver, you slowly and continually adapt to the needs of your loved one and your world becomes centered on them and their care.

And then suddenly, they are gone. And there are only two choices. Stay in the miasma of grief, or adapt to life without your loved one.

Even though the change is abrupt, the adaptation still takes time. More time than I realized. And it is not a linear timeline. I am adapting to that too.

Part of adapting is letting go. I'm finding that the hardest part. Letting go of Cecil's clothes. Letting go of our traditions. Letting go of the unfulfilled plans and dreams.

And part of adapting is getting comfortable with the new reality. Creating new traditions. Dreaming new dreams. I'm working on it.

I'm not sure it was hard for those alligators to adapt - like I said earlier - no apparent downside.

I'm learning that until I see more than the obvious downside of the adaptations I have to make, I am making it harder on myself to move forward.

Here is an upside - I now have a self-contained guest suite in what used to be Cecil's shop, making is super easy to host friends who come to visit. I'm sure I will find more. It is just another adaptation I have to make.

Recognizing one more thing that has been holding me back from becoming the best post-Cecil version of myself I can become gives me the opportunity to work on it. As always, one day at a time.