Our lives are in transition. Always. If nothing else, we are transitioning into getting a day older. We also transition constantly within relationships with our people, responsibilities of our jobs, our points of views, our tastes and wants. Our “I”, that for some perplexing reason, seems so impermeably set – is just a transitional state. For that reason, more interesting than your “I” in the moment, is always where you are heading and who you are transitioning into.
This Saturday in the Catskills started as a regular end-of-October fall day – with crisp in the air, more browns then greens and reds then previous weeks in the forests and grays in the skies. Suddenly, hard droplets of snow started jumping off the window shield as I moved on the road and in the next few hours I ended up fully immersed in a winter landscape: the road, trees and houses were covered in white, what it seemed like forever.
Some transitions are just like that. It was fall before noon and winter after. One moment your head is blank, next it’s blooming with an idea. One moment your heart void empty, next it sings in love. One moment your mind is running 100 miles an hour, next one it is still. Or the other way around.
One moment you’re healthy, next you’re sick. One moment you’re a son, next you’re an orphan. One moment you’re alive, next you’re dead. Or the other way around.
And there I was, still not letting go of the summer on a chilly fall day that abruptly took me into the winter. There might be no bigger joke than how human minds work.
Who are you transitioning into? What transition are you resisting?