The Illusion of Permanence
Twice in the past week I have been reminded of the absolute
impermanence that underlies every aspect of our lives and every single existent
entity on Earth.
Not far from where we live, we have the astonishingly beautiful
Phoenix Botanical Garden. Besides being a wonderful place to spend time looking
at the plants (all of which, incidentally, are always in the process of growing
or dying), they also have interesting exhibitions throughout the year. Early last week, my wife, René, and I went to
see an exhibition of Ofrendas, artistic representations of various stories or
concepts related to the Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). This is a day when Mexican and Mexican-American
people venerate their dead ancestors. The figures in the Ofrendas are mainly highly
decorated skeletons, examples of which become available in gift-shops across
the country at this time of year. One
exhibit that particularly moved me was a shadow box with four niches, above
which was the title of the piece, “Amor” (Love). In the first box are two
skeletons holding hands; in the second the same two at their wedding; in the
third the couple with a new baby (also a skeleton); and in the last, the woman
in widow’s weeds. I found this to be a most eloquent expression of the
impermanence of our lives, and a reminder to cherish each moment as it passes
on our inevitable path to the grave. It struck me that wherever we are, death
(the skeleton) lies within our external bodies, always with us. Each of us is changing,
even at the cellular level, from moment to moment to moment. Thought about in this
way, the idea of grasping what we have becomes absurd, because the very idea of
permanently holding on to something or someone is an illusion. Each of should
strive to pass each moment of our lives in awareness, because, in fact, that’s
all we ever really have. There is also great comfort in the realization that
just as we cannot hang on to the good things in our lives, neither can the
struggles and challenges in our lives remain unchanged.
The second reminder of the reality of impermanence came
while I was meditating during the week and then was reiterated by Shane Wilson,
my mediation teacher, yesterday during our class. I recently returned to
mindfulness meditation training because I realized I was not spending the time
I used to on the cushion, and I was not as content or at peace as a result. In
mindfulness meditation, the most widely used object of concentration is the
breath, to which we return gently each time our mind wanders off (as it
inevitably will). It is always present and available to us, wherever we are,
making it the perfect object on which to focus. It occurred to me as I was
watching my breath, that the breath itself is the very best teacher of the truth
of impermanence. Every inhalation and every exhalation has a beginning and an
end, and each exists for a few seconds at most, leading to the next breath,
which comes and then goes. No matter who we are, our last act on this earth
will be our final exhalation. Even the very exchange of oxygen that gives us
life is fleeting and impermanent, reminding us again of the significance of
each moment.
Ultimately, the belief that we can actually hold on to
anything is perhaps our greatest illusion. Only when we embrace the notion of
universal impermanence can the beauty, wonder and specialness of everything
around us truly be understood.
