Everything In Transit.

It's nights like these, in self-imposed confinement to these four oatmeal colored walls, that I find myself thinking most about transitions.

I'm procrastinating, as per usual, perched at a desk in a corner lit by the soft light of a small lamp. I should be writing an essay, the draft of which is due tomorrow, and as I'm finishing up the first paragraph at 9:45 pm, I'm thinking about transitions. As a writer, in any piece, transitions are ultimately the glue that binds together the random strings of words and ideas we throw down onto paper. Essential.

Anyways (see what I did there?), today was the first day-- in the month I have been here-- that I did not see the sun. I walked to class with my head down, scuffing my heels against the cement that is collecting orange and auburn leaves every day. It was overcast all day, and drizzled through dinner in the early evening. It's finally fall in California.

It seems so strange to me that it is only just beginning, as I am used to an earlier emergence of autumn weather in Colorado, frequently trudging through a foot of snow around this time of year. So the summer seemed longer than ever, and now it is blurring into the chill that is expected of October. A transition much needed.

And I am in transition now, still adjusting to this new place far away from home, discovering faces I have never seen every time I walk across campus.

I keep thinking of church. The school hosts a big welcome mass a few weeks into classes, which is called the Mass of the Holy Spirit, and all are welcome to attend. I know and love the Catholic Church, and I am happy to call it my home. And one of my favorite aspects of getting to know the Church intimately is learning about the meaning behind each ritual, the root of each word, the significance of everything. From the moment that the priest kisses the altar. The word "mass" itself comes from the Latin phrase "Ite missa est," meaning, "It is sent," or "You are sent," and that is why every mass concludes with a sending phrase akin to that. And at this Mass of the Holy Spirit, the priest said in his homily, "Saint Ignatius signed almost all of his letters with a variation of the phrase 'Go forth, and set the world on fire.'"

It seems like such a significant message. It can be made alive every day in this transitional state. When change seems to be engulfing you, when you are overwhelmed with the pressures of adapting to newness, becoming something new, keep this to guide your way.

Go forth. Set the world on fire.