"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another"

Every transformation, no matter how eagerly anticipated, inevitably carries with it a sense of loss. Human beings often look forward to change, whether it's a new job, relationship, home, or phase of life, believing that happiness lies just beyond the horizon. Yet, as the moment of transition draws near, a quiet sorrow often creeps in, sometimes unexpected, sometimes profound. This sorrow or melancholy arises because with every leap forward, something familiar and comfortable must be left behind.

Each chapter of life is composed of routines, relationships, beliefs, and surroundings that shape our identity. When moving toward something new, parts of that identity are relinquished, albeit willingly. The passage suggests that even positive changes require us to mourn a version of ourselves or a set of circumstances that can never quite be reclaimed. The process is not simply about acquiring the new but also about acknowledging and accepting the loss of the old.

Transformation, therefore, is akin to a miniature death. It requires the letting go of attachments, expectations, and histories that have defined us. That symbolic "death" is necessary, for it marks the end of one way of being and allows for the birth of another. To cling fearfully or nostalgically to the past stalls growth, potentially breeding regret or bitterness. Conversely, accepting impermanence allows us to embrace new beginnings with an open heart, even as we honor what has gone before.

Ultimately, the bittersweet nature of change is inescapable. True growth and renewal oblige us to surrender parts of ourselves. The melancholy felt is not a sign of weakness but a reflection of the complexity of human experience, an acknowledgment that to fully welcome what's to come, we must first grieve what is left behind. By doing so, we open ourselves to transformation with greater depth, resilience, and wisdom.