As I walk through the neighborhood, spotting signs of spring with the little dude, this notion that everything, without exception, is constantly in flux (once realized) becomes quite disconcerting to him.
His enthusiasm over the appearance of the daffodils a few weeks ago was infectious.
Pure delight as he greeted each one, as if welcoming back an old friend. "Hi Daffodil....oh, she's so cuuuute" "Here's another one mama" and "LOOK more!" " They are so happy to see me
, they like me!"...and so it goes each day. When spotting the emergence of the tulips, he reports factually that "when the daffodils are done, it will be the tulips turn. And oh the joy when within a week, the tulips bloom. Now these sightings are somewhat expected for him, anticipated as we walk out the door, he's excitedly rambling about seeing the daffodils and tulips. Then suddenly, he notices that the daffodils are becoming fewer and fewer. "Where are the daffodils?" he repeats at each garden spot where they've been. "It's still their turn" he protests. "They are NOT done mama...they are still enjoying their turn!"
, they like me!"...and so it goes each day. When spotting the emergence of the tulips, he reports factually that "when the daffodils are done, it will be the tulips turn. And oh the joy when within a week, the tulips bloom. Now these sightings are somewhat expected for him, anticipated as we walk out the door, he's excitedly rambling about seeing the daffodils and tulips. Then suddenly, he notices that the daffodils are becoming fewer and fewer. "Where are the daffodils?" he repeats at each garden spot where they've been. "It's still their turn" he protests. "They are NOT done mama...they are still enjoying their turn!"Attempts to explain the cycles of life, or remind of him of the seasons are futile. Though he has adopted a new mantra of "all things come, all things go", despite this, he's not quite ready to accept this idea of hello - you're beautiful. goodbye. impermanence.
When does this need for permanence begin?
I understand that change is a key component of life. I've found change to be exhilarating, frightening, exhausting, and at times relieving. Regardless, when faced with something beautiful and welcoming I find myself wishing it would stay exactly as it is in that very moment. I don't want to let go of that feeling. Yet as I make my wish, the experience is already transforming into something else.
Buddhist practice points us toward becoming equanimous in the midst of change and wiser in how we respond to what comes and goes. Confronting impermanence profoundly, in this meditative way, can open us to liberation. Ajahn Chah once said, “If you let go a little, you’ll have a little peace. If you let go a lot you’ll have a lot of peace. If you let go completely, you’ll have complete peace.”
I continue on my path for true acceptance of impermanence, better yet, I aspire to celebrate it. It is this celebration that gives me hope, keeps me positive, optimistic and (I hope) eventually wise.
3 comments:
I love the way you begin with daffodils..my grandmother and I used to pick them in bunches in the churchyard behind her house now that she is gone this flower has become the essence of what you speak about when you say we want to hold time still... I planted dozens and dozens of daffodils in my front yard to remind me of her. Love this first post.
Hooray! "Not a writer," my ass! I love this very well-written post, and totally relate to it. Thanks for treating us all by joining us in the blogsphere!
Being born in March, the daffodil is my birth flower. As soon as it appears each spring I remember my delight in seeing it as a child and the stories my mother and grandmother would tell me about it. They usually referred to it as a jonquil (a Southern thing), but also called it narcissus. When I see them I think about my upcoming birthday and the changes that occur each year. It's not only a sweet reminder of rebirth, but also one of impermanence as I age. So for me it really is narcissistic; I look inward.
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