The only sense that is common in the long run, is the sense of

Opening Scene
The sky is a cloudy gray, the soft light of the late afternoon casting long, cool shadows across the floor. The room is quiet, save for the soft click of the clock ticking on the wall. Jeeny sits by the window, her gaze distant, lost in thought. The world outside seems slow, almost still, as though time is stretching between them. Jack stands near the door, his arms crossed, his mind clearly preoccupied. There’s a heavy silence between them, the kind that comes before a shift, a moment of realization. The weight of change hangs in the air, unnoticed at first, but slowly becoming undeniable.

Host: The room, though calm, feels charged with the tension of something unspoken. Jeeny’s fingers trace the edge of the windowpane, her thoughts clearly drifting, and for a moment, she seems to be measuring the weight of a thought too large to hold. Jack watches her, his expression thoughtful but guarded. Finally, Jeeny turns to him, her voice breaking the stillness.

Jeeny:
(softly, with a quiet curiosity)
“You know, I’ve been thinking about something E. B. White said — that the only sense that’s common in the long run is the sense of change, and how we all instinctively avoid it. It’s funny, isn’t it? We all know things change, but we spend so much of our lives trying to avoid it, trying to keep things the same. Why do you think that is?”

Jack:
(sighing, his voice low)
“Because change feels unpredictable. It’s uncomfortable, and we all want a sense of control, of stability. When things start shifting, we can’t always anticipate what’s coming next. So we cling to what’s familiar, even when we know it might not be what’s best for us. It’s easier to hold onto what we know than to face what’s unknown.”

Host: The light in the room begins to soften as the day fades into evening. Jeeny looks out the window again, her mind still swirling with the idea that change is something we often avoid, even when we know it’s inevitable. Jack, still standing by the door, seems caught between understanding and resistance. There’s a quiet understanding between them, a shared recognition of how often people are bound by their fear of the unknown.

Jeeny:
(softly, her voice tinged with reflection)
“I guess I get that. Change does feel like this weight we’re always trying to balance, this force that’s pulling us in different directions. But maybe we’re afraid of what it means for us — what we have to let go of in order to grow. And the longer we fight it, the more exhausted we become.”

Jack:
(nods slowly, his eyes narrowing as he considers her words)
“Yeah, it’s like we’re stuck in a loop. We know we need change, but we can’t let go of the comfort of the past. So we resist, and that resistance only makes things harder. The longer we avoid it, the more painful it becomes when we’re forced to face it.”

Host: The silence between them stretches, but it’s no longer uncomfortable. There’s an unspoken recognition in the air now — that resistance to change is more than just fear; it’s about the attachment to what we’ve known, even when it no longer serves us. Jeeny turns back to Jack, her eyes steady, as if trying to understand the full weight of what they’re discussing.

Jeeny:
(gently, almost in a whisper)
“Maybe the key is learning to embrace it — to understand that change doesn’t have to mean losing everything. Maybe it’s about finding balance, about being willing to step forward into what’s unknown without losing ourselves in the process.”

Jack:
(softly, almost to himself)
“Yeah, but it’s hard. It’s like everything we think we know has to be redefined, and that’s not easy. We have to let go of the past to make room for what’s coming next. And sometimes, it feels like if we let go, we lose a part of ourselves.”

Host: The room is quiet now, the soft ticking of the clock the only sound in the stillness. Jeeny looks at him, her expression one of quiet understanding, her fingers resting lightly on the windowpane. She seems to see the fear in him, the same fear that keeps them all from moving forward, from embracing change.

Jeeny:
(softly, with a sense of clarity)
“I think it’s about accepting that change doesn’t take anything from us. It just allows us to grow into who we’re meant to be. It’s like shedding an old skin, letting go of what’s familiar so we can stretch and become more than we were before. But it’s not losing ourselves — it’s finding ourselves.”

Jack:
(nods slowly, the idea sinking in)
“Maybe. Maybe it’s not about avoiding change, but learning to flow with it. To accept that it’s part of who we are, part of how we grow. It’s like the world is always shifting, and we can’t always control it, but we can control how we move with it.”

Host: The light outside dims as the evening fully settles in, but there’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of acceptance. The tension of the conversation has softened, leaving behind a quiet understanding. Jeeny and Jack sit together in the silence, no longer afraid of the change that looms before them. They’ve come to understand that resisting change is like resisting the very nature of life itself — a force that can’t be stopped, only embraced. The world outside continues to evolve, but here, in this moment, they’ve found peace in the idea that change is not something to fear, but something to live with.

Jeeny:
(gently, with a sense of calm)
“Maybe it’s not about avoiding the discomfort of change. Maybe it’s about learning to flow with it, to trust that it will lead us where we need to go.”

Jack:
(sighing, his voice soft)
“Yeah. Maybe it’s time to stop resisting and start moving with it.”

Host: The room feels lighter now, as if the weight of their conversation has been shared and understood. Outside, the rain continues to fall, soft and steady, but inside, there is a sense of peace. Jeeny and Jack sit together in the quiet of the evening, knowing that change will always come — but it doesn’t have to be feared. Instead, it can be embraced, allowed to carry them forward into something new, something better.