Segueing

    I prefer to retain the final “e”:  segueing.

    I prefer my personal mispronunciation to the dictionary’s correctness:  SAY-ging to seg-WAY-ing.

    I love the definition from my Pocket Oxford:  “(in music and film) move without interruption from one song or scene to another.”

    I know how hard it is to segue effortlessly: to turn the page without missing a note, to glide seamlessly from one life scene to the next.  Quickly turning the page I can occasionally manage; gliding into the next era takes more time.

    I’ve often thought I should be able to execute a graceful ballerina leap into the future.  Or I’ve tried to draw a sharp line between scenes, sort of like those black boundary lines I used to imagine between states.

    This time, though, I’ve been segueing for two years in a slow transition from English instructor to writer, from Kansan to Washingtonian, from separated to single.  The most important segue I’ve not yet mentioned-- even though it is the central one, the one enacted under the best Director.

    That is the segue from disbelief to faith and depression to joy.