Sure on this shining night
Of starmade shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.

The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth,
Hearts all whole.

Sure on this shining night
I weep for wonder
Wandering far alone
Of shadows on the stars.

~Description of Elysium
James Agee

A lot of people I met with this week were struggling due to a current or impending separation from a loved one. Some were anxious to move on, others were grieving the absence of the familiar, still others were in limbo, numb and bored but unable to take the next step. Everyone expressed dissatisfaction with being in transition.

Change is hard. Even positive change. It reminds us that nothing remains the same and challenges our inflexible pattern-driven need for stability. Change cuts to the heart of the human condition: the thwarted desire for unity with something beyond… just this.

During transitions, we become aware of being like trapeze artists trying to manage the leap between two ropes, “here” and “there”. If you hold onto the first rope too long, it goes flaccid. If you let it go too soon, you end up twisting in mid-air with no future. If you indulge nostalgia and look back, you may regret it forever. Results in all cases aren’t pretty and may even be tragic (or comic!, depending).

We aspire to govern ourselves in all situations with elegance, that is, by thinking, feeling and doing the “right” thing. This is expressed by Buddha in the Noble Eightfold Path, and by Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics. Doing the “right” thing in this sense means responding to our circumstances “at the right times, with reference to the right objects, towards the right people, with the right motive, and in the right manner.” (Aristotle)

Right action does not refer to what is morally right but, rather, to what is fitting in response to any given situation. This is the path, but what is the way?

The true trapeze artist is a master of timing and seemless transitions, appearing to do nothing and go nowhere. He becomes stillness in motion, vigilance at rest. Gradually, by just passing through, heads up and hearts open, maybe we too can aspire to this. Change is an opportunity to practice becoming better disposed toward our circumstances, remaining poised to eventually engage them, gracefully.