The Preciousness of What Passes
Lo Precioso de lo que Pasa
A reflection on how contemplating death and impermanence can transform from a source of worry into a celebration of being alive together.
The Preciousness of What Passes
A reflection on how contemplating death and impermanence can transform from a source of worry into a celebration of being alive together.
These are truths that are very difficult to communicate. I do feel, especially in those moments of responsibility, that what I say needs to be complex enough not to be misinterpreted. It is very simple to say "everything is beautiful," and it feels like the most direct truth. But then comes the conversation: what about war, what about murder, what about all of the horrible things? I invited that conversation by guiding the meditation the way I did.
Impermanence as celebration
It is the impermanence of not just our lives, because we can get used to being alive, but of every moment. I was with some friends the other day, describing how my father is in town and turning eighty and throwing a party in a month. I made a comment which, to me, was full of celebration. They were saying something about the party, and I said, "Yes, if he makes it to the party." It was not dark humor. What I meant was that I am trying to meet him as much as I can today, tomorrow, and the day after, because he might not be here in a month.
Experientially, for me, that notion excites me. It fills me with a sense of just wanting to see him. And when I do, it is simply enjoying that moment because it could be the last. If I were contemplating that and struggling with worry, then something else would be going on. But that is not my experience.
The reaction in others
When I brought that up, there was a reaction in others, and I realized I need to be more careful. In others, it might bring up worry, whereas for me it was coming from a place of celebration: not only of his life, but of the fact that we are alive together, still. For people who are not doing this work, there was a contraction around that comment, and I realized it perhaps was not appropriate in that context.
Facing the contemplation directly
But for us here, I highly recommend contemplating impermanence and facing the contractions that might arise around contemplating one's own death and the death of those we love. It is a great practice. What would you be doing differently if you knew you would die in a year? Bring it down to six months. One month. A week. One day. One hour.
Ultimately, one can realize that one does not die. The body does, most likely. But to enjoy this life as it is, well, while we have it in this form: celebrate. That is what all of humanity is about. It is all of the stories, all of the poetry. It is this whole movement of learning to be human, of loving more, of opening up and facing fears.
I saw a movie recently that I loved, a very beautiful example of this. It is about a man who is obese and disconnected from his daughter, and the film is simply the process of him opening up. It is just so beautiful.