Change can be elusive when it comes to keeping track. Sure, there are those moments when something suddenly shifts in a big way – like the way priorities sink into place at times of illness or death or someone speaks a truth that we’ve never been able to hear before and it blows our mind. More often than not, it seems we awake suddenly realizing there’s been some massive alteration and are able to see, in retrospect, that we’ve been traveling toward such changes for quite some time. It’s just that we’d had no idea they were occurring or how significant the change was.

I recently received a surprising lesson in this process. At nearly five months pregnant, my body has been undergoing rapid changes from the get-go. It’s been the unseen physical changes that I’ve been tuned into the most: the fatigue, nausea, increased flexibility, shortness of breath, random cramping and the recent wiggling of the growing baby. Sure, the pile of clothes I can no longer fit into has grown larger with every passing week, and I’m fascinated by my changing shape, but when my husband snapped a recent photo of me (part of series to keep track of the physical progress), I was shocked at how “little” I looked pregnant compared to how pregnant I felt, and I said as much.

Week 19 – you’ll notice the “belly band” keeping these unbuttoned pants up, even though they are two sizes larger than my pre-pregnancy jeans.

Scott laughed at this and immediately scrolled back to the photo he took at five weeks pregnant, just days after I had gotten a positive pregnancy test, at a time when I was aware that my most comfortable jeans were already getting a tad tight.

Week 5 – just the beginning!

I almost fell over from shock. Even though none my pants have fit since the end of December and nearly all of my shirts are too short, I quite simply had no awareness of the degree to which my body had actually changed shape. I harbored no recollection of ever being so…skinny. Tiny. Straight. It seemed preposterous.

This got me thinking. If keeping track of the incredibly rapid changes to my very visible, physical body had proved elusive, what does that mean about the other, less visible ways we evolve? If we can’t remember where we started, how do we know how far we’ve traveled? Tangentially, is it even useful to have such knowledge?

I have little trouble answering that last question. I do believe it’s useful to be aware of our significant alterations and to pay moderate attention to our growth and development. It boosts us for the continuation of the journey. It helps us have compassion for those at different places along the path. It gives us a road map to hand off to others who might want or need one. It keeps us simultaneously grounded and keyed into the bigger story unfolding.

In regards to the “how” of documenting metamorphosis, I imagine that varies from person to person and the individual narrative that is undergoing transformation. Sometimes photographs work. Or examining one’s own creative output. Often, words do. A quick perusal through my own journals from 10 years ago reminds me of where I was and how much I’ve changed. For that reason in part, I often have my clients write their “current” story – be it a personal or business story. It provides a concrete record of where we started. Similarly, it always gives me great joy to look at a client’s evolution through the lens of my notes taken throughout a coaching engagement.

You have changed, too. It’s a requirement of life. So how do you know that you or your organization has undergone some transformation? Or how much has changed? How have you documented your own metamorphoses?