Dear Friends,
In our last reflection, we explored what inspires energy in our practice, including reflecting on impermanence, the uncertainty of life, and the inevitability of death as motivators for wise effort. The poem “If You Knew” by Ellen Bass offers a poignant lens for deepening this exploration.
Her words remind us of life’s fleeting nature, the moments we might overlook, and the fragility of the connections we share:
What if you knew you’d be the last
to touch someone?
This reflection brings to mind the precious time I had with my dad in his last days. Being present with him during that time was both heart-opening and profoundly grounding. The moments we shared–filled with tenderness, love, and gratitude–remain etched in my heart as a reminder of how fleeting and precious life truly is.
The closing lines of the poem ask us to consider how we might live if we saw each moment and interaction with this same clarity:
What would people look like
if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
reckless, pinned against time?
These reflections invite us to cultivate energy not from fear but from a heartfelt awareness of life’s preciousness and brevity. How might our actions, words, and practice shift if we approached each moment as if it truly mattered?
Does reflecting on impermanence inspire your energy and effort in practice? What shifts when you approach each moment or interaction with care and presence?
Let me know what you discover as you sit with these reflections.
With good wishes,
Andrea
What if I knew?
Reading this morning’s post I thought about my loved ones, especially my grandchildren and I have to admit that fear gripped the pit of my stomach. I think that is a natural response and one I can explore along with the rising love and precious delight when I think about them and when I am blessed by their presence. I will see how the fear and the joy interplay. This is a very profound and impactful practice for exploring impermanence. Thank you for the teaching and I look forward to seeing what unfolds? It is freeing yet quite brave to be intimately present.
Dear Shamarika, I agree, it is natural for fear to arise when we contemplate impermanence, especially in relation to those we love most. I appreciate your willingness to sit with both the fear and the deep love you feel for your grandchildren–it sounds like a tender practice. May this exploration continue to bring insight, deep appreciation, and a freeing sense of connection to each moment.