I intended to post something long before this but I’ve been caught up in a long and complex transition. On December 10th I taught my last classes at Rutgers and my wonderful semester at the state university of New Jersey came to an end, just as we were beginning to learn about Chris Christie’s efforts to turn the GW Bridge into the bridge to nowhere (Pittsburghers will recall the real bridge to nowhere). Then on December 18 I got off the plane in Rome and hit the ground running into the last month of moving prep, which offered the added pleasure of trying to codgel, persuade and bludgeon plumbers, electricians, painters and carpenters into finishing the “ristrutturazione” of our new dwelling. Under the Tuscan Sun be damned, artisans are the same the world over, and they never answer their cell phones.
In any event, the transition has now unfolded into its final phases. We slept in the new place on January 16 and our furniture joined us on the 17th. Now it’s just us and 200 boxes ready to be emptied and fond memories of George Carlin ranting about “stuff.”
So this transition will soon be over. But it has offered the occasion to realize that our moving into this house is also a moving into the final phase of a bigger transition. As two great friends are fond of saying, “life is lived in the transition.” A helpful piece of wisdom that can be taken one step further: life itself is a transition. From what to what has certainly been the object of a lot of speculation but I don’t think anyone really knows. The only sure thing is that all the translations we live through are followed by other transitions which we hope to live through. Eventually we won’t and in the meantime all we can do is hope that the pleasant transitions, like my semester at Rutgers, last longer than the unpleasant ones.
In any event, the transition has now unfolded into its final phases. We slept in the new place on January 16 and our furniture joined us on the 17th. Now it’s just us and 200 boxes ready to be emptied and fond memories of George Carlin ranting about “stuff.”
So this transition will soon be over. But it has offered the occasion to realize that our moving into this house is also a moving into the final phase of a bigger transition. As two great friends are fond of saying, “life is lived in the transition.” A helpful piece of wisdom that can be taken one step further: life itself is a transition. From what to what has certainly been the object of a lot of speculation but I don’t think anyone really knows. The only sure thing is that all the translations we live through are followed by other transitions which we hope to live through. Eventually we won’t and in the meantime all we can do is hope that the pleasant transitions, like my semester at Rutgers, last longer than the unpleasant ones.
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