The Beauty of Impermanence
"No one ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and they are not the same person." - Heraclitus
There is a phrase in Japanese, "Ichigo Ichie" which means "this moment will only happen once," reminding its reader to come back to the present moment and realize how special it is. The fact that everything is temporary is what makes each moment so precious. All that exists is the present, both the past and the future are simply exercises in imagination. One of my favorite practices is to pretend that this moment, right here and now, is my very last moment to be alive on Earth. When I experience now in that context, I suddenly begin to feel so relaxed, so grateful, so much more observant of the beauty and abundance of life even in the most boring or tedious of moments. I especially love to do this on long commutes or while waiting in line. It reminds me of the magic inherent to existence itself; that I am a part of it for a short time. I give myself time to marvel, awe, and savor the universe from a linear, temporary perspective.
There is a kaballistic legend about how the world was made once before, but it was too full of light and it ended up shattering into pieces. Thus, when the world was remade, it was balanced with light and dark. Limitation, even with that which is seen as good, is integral in creating something sustainable. I like to see the human experience of time in the same way. All of time technically exists all at once, but since we are observing it from a perspective of being born, living, and then dying, it becomes linear to us. It would be overwhelming and incomprehensible to experience all of time at once; this unique capacity to only experience the present moment is a beautiful and necessary characteristic to really soak in the wonder of existence. I love that we share this ability with animals; bears often take time just to sit and watch the sunset, even though it would be more advantageous for survival to continue hunting for food. Even sharks are known to be curious and stare at beautiful sights underwater.
In studying Buddhism, I understand more and more how the practice of meditation and mindfulness cultivates loving kindness, compassion, balance of mind, and appreciative joy. Everything is so impermanent, that when you really set the intention to witness it with full attention, it becomes so apparent how precious it all is, how it will all slip away so soon, so all we can do with that level of awareness is to see the beauty, feel the love, joy, gratitude, or compassion for whatever we can observe and sense in that moment. The stories of the past and the dreams/nightmares about the future fade away in stark unimportance compared to this moment right now. We can just melt into the present and experience how rich and beautiful it is. We see so clearly when mindful that all that matters is increasing the well-being of whichever living beings we have the power to be of service to right now. In the grand scheme of things, none of what we have ever experienced will matter, and since we as humans do not live on that scale, all that matters is right now.
"The more you sense the rareness and value of your own life, the more you realize that how you use it, how you manifest it, is entirely your responsibility. We face such a big task, so naturally we sit down for a while."
"We sit to make life meaningful, we must start simply with accepting ourselves. Sitting brings us back to actually who and where we are."
- Kobun Chino Otogawa, Zen Buddhist Teacher
In the Zen Buddhist practice, Ichigo Ichie, or the beauty of impermanence, is one of the central teachings. The Zen Buddhist instructions when practicing mindfulness and meditation are as follows:
Just sit and see what happens
Savor this moment as if it were your last breath
Avoid distractions
Free yourself from everything that isn't essential
Be your own friend
Celebrate imperfection
Practice compassion
Let go of your expectations
I coincidentally learned the Zen Buddhist practice while attending a program called "5 Days to Live and Die" at Pachamama Ecovillage in Costa Rica. We did many preparative activities to accept the reality of death, from writing our own eulogies, meditating on what it means to die and if we were ready for it or not, doing breathwork sessions, being led blindfolded through the dark only with a whisper now and again to trust, being read our eulogies as we pretend to be dead, being buried in the sand as if it were our burial, and what was most impactful for me, to answer the following questions:
If you had a year left to live, what would you do?
If you had a month left to live, what would you do?
If you had a week left to live, what would you do?
If you had a day left to live, what would you do?
If you had an hour left to live, what would you do?
If you had a minute left to live, what would you do?
If you had a second left to live, what would you do?
As I answered these questions, at first I thought of all the hedonic pleasures and relational closures I wanted to achieve, traveling, experiencing, making sure all my loved ones knew I loved them and those I had conflict with with knew that I forgave them. As the timeframe shortened in the questions, I realized that I could be content with what is, and when I only had a "second left to live" I knew that I could be at peace, even if there was unfinished business or things I never got to do or try, I could just tilt my head back, look around, feel the air on my skin and savor the moment. It's the most joyous and relaxing feeling to just accept what is and come back to right now, to really enjoy it.
One of the meditations we did in "5 Days to Live and Die" was visualizing going to meet the Egyptian God of the Afterlife, Anubis, and weigh our hearts on a scale, our heart on one side, the feather of Ma'at, the Goddess of Truth and Justice on the other side. If our hearts were heavier or lighter than the feather, Anubis would determine we weren't ready to cross over into the Afterlife, that we had more living to do. This visualization represented that if our heart was too heavy, we still had healing to do or a mission to accomplish, and if our heart was too light, we had more to experience to really have lived a full life. How do you feel, is your heart heavier or lighter than the feather?
Memento Mori, the ancient Greek phrase much-loved by stoic philosophers, carries similar meaning. Translated, it is "Remember you are already dead/that you will die," suggesting to its reader that they would benefit from living with full awareness of death, of impermanence. Through that frame, we would all live with more mindfulness, more appreciation for life. No unfinished business, words unsaid, experiences procrastinated on. We would be forever mindful of our mission and would savor every moment.
"When you are mindful, you are fully aware of your surroundings and of yourself in the present. Mindfulness increases the time that you swim with your head above water, when you can see both potential dangers and pleasures. When you are mindful, you are aware of your position and your destination. You can make corrections to your path" - Philip Zimbardo
Awareness of the inevitable death of all things keeps us more focused on what matters, to have more clarity on what to do and how to be. With awareness that it could all slip away, we simultaneously and paradoxically become more appreciative of life and zestful for experiencing life as well as more at peace with the temporary nature of it all, accepting reality as impermanent and finding a way to live harmoniously with this truth.
"The drama of existence is not death but never having begun to live." - Marcus Aurelius
"As if you could kill time without injuring eternity." - Henry David Thoreau
When we live our lives in fear, worry, distraction, dreaming, replaying memories, we miss out on the richness of being and of existence. We stress ourselves so much with attempting to control something we can't even understand; life, reality. Death and impermanence can be scary prospects to some, it can feel as though we're at the mercy of some cruel force that demands the end of all things. Acceptance and seeing the beauty of impermanence means to understand that death is transformation; it is life interbecoming. On the scale of the absolute, there is no separation. When one thing dies, its matter and energy becomes something else. Truly, living is dying, as it is interbeing with all of existence, transforming into one another. When we see ourselves as separate egos, of course our own impermanence seems horrific, and when we view ourselves as one with everything, we marvel in awe at our short time being able to miraculously experience a separate ego and are at peace with knowing that our entire existence is death, transformation back into oneness.
"You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." - Mae West
"Learning to see the beauty of things also allows us to make them beautiful." - Friedrich Nietzsche
