The aftermath of change-making

Today, inspired by the book we discussed previously, we’ll explore how major, unexpected life disruptions can often transform ourselves in finding new, unexpected directions and growth opportunities within ourselves. 

This is something I particularly enjoy because I naturally like to think in terms of systems, patterns, and long arcs. I’m not just happy to see that “change happens”; I want to understand how change can transform me, change my personality and my identity. 

I also want to evaluate whether a change was good or bad, how we can integrate change into a coherent life story. I’m also curious to know what skills can make us more adaptive than reactive. 

What follows is a framework that addresses these questions. It could work like this: Every change — chosen or imposed — creates four layers of consequences. By analyzing all four, we’ll get a complete picture. 

• It starts with the external aftermath. What objectively has changed in our lives? A job, a location, a relationship, a set of routines and a bunch of constraints. This is the easiest, but also the least interesting layer. 
• Then, as expected, comes the internal aftermath. For instance, what shifted in our identity? Elements like confidence, worldview, sense of agency and emotional tone. This is where we’re talking about a real life changing story. 
• Now comes the narrative aftermath that begs the question, how do we explain the change to ourselves? As it relates to loss, liberation, accident, destiny or just a lesson. We humans don’t live in events; we live in the stories we tell about events. 
• This process concludes with the fourth layer, the skill aftermath. What new capacities have emerged in us? Traits like resilience, perceptual acuity, intuition, adaptability and pattern recognition. This last layer is the opportunity to let our personal strengths shine as we’ve already spent a lifetime turning change into skill. 

I don’t know about you, but this framework works well for me, because it mirrors the way I think naturally. A form of thinking that’s layered, analytical, experiential, meaning‑driven and oriented toward some sense of control and mastery. It can also turn any change — past or future — into something I can debate, evaluate, and learn from.