The interval is the open stretch between a world whose forms have ended and a later form that has not appeared. Traditional order once gave a man a place to stand: rank, rite, a public measure that did not depend on his mood. That place has closed. The differentiated man remains upright in the stretch, and the missing next form is no reason to sit down. Standing here belongs to him for as long as the stretch lasts.
The age fills the gap with substitutes that look like arrival. A circle offers belonging and calls the circle the new order. A role with a title attached pretends the interval has already ended for the men inside it. Chatter spends the hours naming the change that is supposed to come, and the naming replaces the stand. Each substitute asks him to drop the upright hold because something outside is about to do the holding.
Young men meet this as the pressure to wait usefully. A job that rewards only output will pay him to fill the stretch with volume and call the filling a life. Softness says a standard kept in a gap is performance for no one. The length of the gap is not his to set. The demand to remain standing does not shrink because the next form is late.
Stand through the next week without borrowing a false arrival. Keep the hour already set when the room is still talking about what comes after. Finish the work to the measure, and leave the extra piece unsent. Decline the role whose gift is a name for men who have agreed to stop waiting on their feet. The man who can do these things while no new order has appeared is standing where the cycle left him.