The times they are a-changin’
Years ago, when we were both young mothers who whole-heartedly embraced the schedule-free days of summer, a friend left me a cartoon in my mailbox on the first day of school. In the cartoon a man asks a woman what the date is and the woman replies, “August 35th.” The last frame of the comic contains simply the words “Cathy has a difficult time transitioning to fall.” It still makes me laugh.
Last week, as we’ve done every morning all summer, my dog and I set out for our walk. It was a gorgeous, warm morning – a promise of a perfect day to putter in the garden or maybe spend a little time in the hammock. We rounded a corner and crunched into dried sycamore leaves covering the sidewalk. It was as if we’d stepped suddenly from summer into fall. My stomach dropped a little as I realized that (to quote Bob Dylan) “the times, they were a-changin’.”
All at once, slowly
Of course, I know that summer is never endless (there won’t even be the four extra days of August that Cathy-of-the-comic tried to create), but that isn’t something that is fun to think about as you’re stretching out into its long days. I also know that summer doesn’t end the instant you step into your first pile of leaves. But stepping into those leaves felt as surprising as the moment you notice that your sweet puppy’s muzzle is now white, or that the little tree you and your husband planted near your patio is “suddenly” as tall as your house.
Moments like these reveal the truth of the expression “life is change and change is life.” One season gently morphs into the next. The puppy running circles around your feet grows up to become the dog yanking eagerly on his leash and eventually slows down into the old guy snoozing by your desk. Saplings, especially those planted in exactly the right spot like the one next to my patio, will eventually provide the shade you’re hoping for when you decide to plant them.
The thing about change like this is that it is slow enough that you can miss it if you’re not paying attention. Life’s changes are relentlessly steady. While you may choose not to think about it because you’re enjoying good times (ah, those summer days! Those sweet puppy kisses!), there is no denying that change is coming. There’s no escaping it. Fall will come, as will dog breath. This is simply the way of life.
It’s often not the change that is the issue, but your own response to it
It is worth paying attention to the way we react in the moments when change “suddenly” makes itself known. As I crunched into those leaves, I felt my stomach drop. My young-mother-self might have felt that drop and chosen to do as “Cathy” did in the comic – to dig in and simply pretend that August hasn’t ended. In fact, I can remember summers when I tried really hard to do just this. But my resistance only made it harder for me to get back into the rhythm of the school year – which, with three school-aged children – was as relentless and inescapable as the change of seasons.
This year, I will remember stepping into those leaves as the moment that I realized that a really good summer was drawing to a close. Rather than stirring up a wave of resistance, this realization felt like an invitation to reflect on the summer and I did just that for the next few blocks – why it was such a good one, what I loved about it, even what I learned during it. My sudden understanding that summer’s end was upon me wound up giving me the opportunity to relish these last days even more.
Just because you’ve faced the fact of change doesn’t mean you need to rush into it
By the way, just because I faced the fact that summer was ending does not mean I started to shift gears on that walk. Not at all. I didn’t even consider spending the remainder of my walk mentally revising the syllabus for the course I teach or wondering about the students I would meet. There is still (and perhaps always will be) a part of me who resonates deeply with Cathy-of-the-comic; who wants to squeeze every last drop out of the summer season. And who, nevertheless, is also happy embark on the new beginnings hinted at by the first crunch of leaves.
Even 3,000 years ago, human beings were struggling with change. We know this because three of the five kleshas (causes of human suffering) listed in the Yoga Sutras have a great deal to do with the way we navigate change. Raga is the desire that “Cathy” feels for August to never end. It is her dvesa or aversion to the busyness of fall that makes her cling to summer. Abhinivesa, the final klesha, is sometimes translated as the fear of change and is said to be experienced even by humans much more evolved than me (or Cathy-of-the-comic).