In Transition

"Everything changes in the next day's light," sings Steve Forbert in his poignant song,  "Autumn This Year." As leaves fall to the ground like radiant beacons of impermanence, it's hard not to be aware of changes from one day to the next. In the natural world--and in life. 


"Let me guess: you're in transition," said the leader of the Intuition seminar to a room full of people she had never met.  The Kripalu Yoga Center presenter, Aruni Nan Futuronsky, was right. We were all in some kind of transition. In our relationships with loved ones, in our callings, in our own bodies.

I was transitioning into these precious three months of renewal when I attended that seminar. Now I'm transitioning out of sabbatical. I'm in my last week--at least my last week in the continental U.S.  I fly to Hawaii on Saturday for a retreat on welcoming prayer, followed by a week with my family to explore a bit of Hawaii's rich history and landscape. I'll be back at the church on the Tuesday after Thanksgiving. The transition has begun.


But maybe the transition never ended. One thing I've become more aware of during these past few months is that every day is full of transitions. It's how you practice them that matters. 

In yoga classes the teachers often tell us to shift from one pose to another with as little unnecessary movement as possible. To be sure we're stable before we move. To pay attention as we lift our right foot from a standing position back to a lunge position. To land lightly.




"Every step is a step of faith," one yoga teacher said.  That's how I intend to practice the steps of my transition: with faith in the God whose love, unchanging day to day from the beginning, created the ground beneath my feet.