ALEX G:
There’s a part of change that I don’t think we talk about nearly enough.
We talk about the beginning.
That moment when I finally say…
I can’t do this anymore.
That moment when I make the decision.
When I change the job.
Move house.
Walk away from something that isn’t working.
Start something completely new.
Or finally admit to myself that the life I’m living isn’t quite the life I want anymore.
And let’s be honest…
That moment can take an enormous amount of courage.
But then what?
What happens the morning after the brave decision?
Because change isn’t usually one big, dramatic moment.
Sometimes it’s just getting up the next morning…
…and doing it again.
And again.
And again.
That’s perseverance.
And I’ve been thinking about perseverance a lot lately.
Because the last few years have taught me something I probably wouldn’t have learned any other way.
Rebuilding a life isn’t a straight line.
And sometimes, you don’t get to choose what you have to rebuild.
In 2022, I swam out of my house in Lismore.
My house had been destroyed by the catastrophic floods.
And there’s something about watching your home disappear — physically and emotionally — that changes the way you think about the word permanent.
Because I lost things.
Belongings, obviously.
But it was so much more than that.
I lost familiarity.
Places.
Pieces of a community.
A sense of home.
And, in some ways, I lost the version of myself that had existed inside that life.
I think we all have things we quietly assume are permanent.
The place we’ll live.
The people who’ll be around us.
The community we belong to.
The work we’ll do.
The version of ourselves we think we’ve finally figured out.
We think…
Okay. This is my life.
And then life comes along and says…
Actually, no.
Sometimes we make that change ourselves.
And sometimes…
life makes it for us.
And when that happens, we have to work out who we are when the life we thought we were building suddenly isn’t there anymore.
I’ve discovered that perseverance isn’t necessarily about being strong all the time.
It’s not about putting on a brave face.
It’s certainly not about pretending something doesn’t hurt.
Sometimes perseverance is grieving what I’ve lost…
…and still allowing myself to imagine something new.
Sometimes it’s asking for help.
Sometimes it’s starting again when I am completely bloody sick of starting again.
And sometimes…
it’s simply refusing to abandon myself.
I’ve also started wondering whether perseverance is a bit like a muscle.
Maybe I don’t just have perseverance.
Maybe I build it.
And maybe I build it in some surprisingly ordinary ways.
I can practise keeping small promises to myself.
I can do the thing I said I would do — even if it’s tiny.
I can stop looking at the enormous mountain in front of me and just ask:
What’s the next step?
Not the next twenty steps.
Not, How am I going to fix my entire life by Friday?
Just…
What can I do today?
I can learn to tolerate discomfort without immediately deciding that discomfort means I should stop.
Because sometimes something feels uncomfortable simply because it’s unfamiliar.
I can surround myself with people who remind me who I am when I’ve forgotten.
I can celebrate progress instead of constantly waiting for the finish line.
And I can rest.
Because perseverance isn’t pushing myself until I break.
Sometimes perseverance is knowing when to stop.
Recover.
Sleep.
Take a breath.
And come back tomorrow.
I think another part of perseverance is staying curious.
When something doesn’t work, instead of immediately asking…
Why is this happening to me?
Maybe I can ask:
What can I learn from this?
What needs to change?
What’s still possible?
Those are very different questions.
And they take me somewhere different.
I’m also learning that my current circumstances aren’t necessarily my final destination.
And that one matters to me.
Because when I swam out of my house in Lismore in 2022, I certainly couldn’t have pictured the life I’m living now.
I couldn’t have mapped it out.
I couldn’t have predicted it.
And honestly, I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me.
But here I am.
I’m back behind a microphone.
I’m creating things that bring me joy.
I’m meeting new people.
I’m trying things.
I’m finding pieces of myself that got lost along the way.
And I’m still figuring it out.
There are days when I feel incredibly clear about the life I’m creating.
And there are other days when I think…
Seriously?
Another thing?
I think we’ve all had those days.
You know the ones.
Where you’re doing your best, you’re trying to be positive, you’re trying to keep moving forward…
…and then life throws one more thing at you and you just think:
Oh, come on.
But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe perseverance doesn’t mean becoming the person who never gets knocked down.
Maybe it means becoming the person who learns how to get back up.
Sometimes slowly.
Sometimes badly.
Sometimes with absolutely no idea what I’m doing.
But getting back up anyway.
Because making change happen isn’t just about having the courage to change my life.
It’s having the perseverance to keep living it…
while I work out what comes next.
And maybe you’re somewhere in that space tonight.
Maybe you’ve made a big change.
Maybe one has been made for you.
Maybe you’re right at the beginning.
Or maybe you’re in that messy middle where nothing quite makes sense yet.
If that’s you…
I want you to know something.
You don’t have to have the whole future worked out tonight.
You just have to keep taking the next step.
What keeps us going?
How do we keep moving when the thing we’re working towards takes longer than we thought?
And can we actually strengthen that muscle?
I’m Alex G and this is Make Change Happen.