The invitation of impermanence

Burke Louis
Sep 5, 2018 · 6 min read

A wise man once said “I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.” Solomon. Everything is impermanent and vanishing, but as another said, “the wise do not grieve, having realized the nature of the world.” Buddha. Why do we grasp for the wind when it isn’t meant to be held. It slips through our fingers like the present moment escapes the grasp of our attention span.

They were some of the most wise and influential men in history and of their times. They had a lifetime of experience, beauty, and suffering. They were here, and now they’re gone. Thousands of years have since come and gone. They’re almost mythical and forgotten. One day here, the next vanished. Dust. Fleeting. Impermanent. Like breath in the wind.

Like a tide. The wind shifts in a moment. Ice melts. Water settles and evaporates. Soon it pours out from the heavens like death bringing life — serving a different purpose altogether. I am not speaking of reincarnation, but of the fleeting present moment. It is impermanent.

A moment is here right now. It is present and after a moment, it is absent. History is made up of fleeting moments.

Tomorrow finally arrives and quickly transforms into yesterday, and today never has enough hours in it. They’re often lost in business, in distraction, in expectation, in regret, in habitual mental disassociation.

The conscious understanding of this present moment is between 4–7 seconds. And how much of life chances in that time frame? Do we notice? The whole earth is impermanent and ever changing — birthing, growing, weathering, decaying, reshaping, springing into new life. The light shifts and new colors are revealed. Microscopic changes and macro-level shifts occur perpetually. The earth on it’s axis and the sun in it’s orbit in an constantly expanding universe.

Waves rise and fall as do our experiences. Pain arrives and dissipates. Hunger woos us and satisfaction turns into discontent. Greed sets in deeper and the pride is eventually humbled. Humility is forgotten the moment it receives recognition.

What under the sun lasts? It turns to dust and is carried off by the wind and rain. Life is fossilized in buried memories and compressed into petroleum to fuel something in time. Or just waits forever undiscovered. That’s the truth of most of us on this planet.

There is one however who will not forget — like a mother who cannot forget the baby at her breasts. He is permanent and unchanging. He is the exception. His love is deep and unending, never failing us even when we’ve failed. What He speaks resonates throughout all of history and for the eras to come. It does not fade. If we are not attentive, we might miss what that resonance sounds like in this impermanent moment.

Life is but a breath. All flesh is like a wildflower in the field, here one day and withered the next.

Even wisdom is easily lost. One might think that with experience comes wisdom, but often times it just decays to cynicism. Like how a wine is refined with time, but eventually turns to bitter vinegar.

Babies either die or turn old, returning to diapers and dependence.

Strength turns to fat.

Pleasure turns to regret.

Grief turns to joy.

Beauty fades to deep set sadness in the eyes. Youth vanishes like vibrant spring flowers and old age falls like the autumn leaves in the wind.

Even this present moment, full of memories & hopeful expectations, beauty & pain, is fleeting. Especially this present moment. But who can escape it?

Everyone has the present moment, yet we are habitually absent. Most of us live in a constant escape from the present moment. The next great adventure has often been my anesthesia for my present pains.

When we are not practicing being present, we are practicing being absent. If we are not practicing being mindful, we are practicing absent-mindedness.

What is happening right now? What do you notice? Forget these words for a moment and practice being present. What’s happening in your body? Do you feel the weight of your body? What is your breath like? What’s happening in your soul and emotions? What are you worried about or excited about? What about your spirit? Do you sense how near to you God is? He’s right here. Next to you, fully present to you like a friend who listens well. Around you like the wind. Within you like your soul.

My hand is tired of writing and my grip is tight on my pen (though presently I’m transposing the words from my journal). Breathing shallow; hungry for deeper breaths. My coffee tastes like chocolate, walnuts, and ash in delightful balance. Not too hot. I’m longing for affirmation, respect, and to feel trusted. I’m fearful a little that if anyone reads this they might see me as unwise, unintelligent, or over-spiritual. My spirit reminds me that I am loved and delighted in as a new-born is to his mother, either way. Not depending on the opinions or rejections of other. Yet for some reason, there’s still a tension there.

What about you? Go ahead. I’ll wait.

This is the present moment.

Are you skilled at being present to it? I’m not, but I’m getting better.

God is fully present to you in this present moment. It’s what He does. It’s part of who He is. Therefore when we grow in being present, we are growing in godliness.

How many moments have we missed because we’re distracted by something that happened in the impermanent yesterday or what might occur in the unrealized tomorrow?

What about today? “Tomorrow has enough worries for itself.” Jesus taught those words not just so we can trust God with our tomorrow, but so we can be more present to our today. Just like He is.

This moment is impermanent. Fleeting. Changing into history and most likely being forgotten. Especially if we are not fully present to it.

Memory retention increases with our level of presence. There’s a direct correlation. In this moment where is your consciousness on the continuum of disassociation vs presence. Did you have to read that line 3 times? Did you catch it? It’s a question worth posing multiple times per day. I think I’m going to write it down and fold it into my pocket.

Did you know there’s an exercise we can do to strengthen our physiological muscles of presence? It’s called mindfulness.

The stress and suffering of daily life prevent us from being mindful of our present moment and the beauties of life around & within us. On the contrary, as we practice mindfulness, stress levels drop, suffering lessens, restfulness is found, and beauty becomes illuminated and saturated with color.

But these benefits are minimal in respect to the glory of God that is revealed. In being present, we hear the roar of the wind. As C. S. Lewis states, “When we hear the road of the wind, we are hearing the wind.” Let’s learn to be attentive to the wind, rather than merely it’s roar. As we see creation, or hear it’s sounds, or smell it’s aroma; we see God. We can hear His voice. We can smell his presence.

When we breath in, His breath of life is in our nostrils. Let us not merely breath, but let’s taste his essence. When we hear the wind, what are we listening to? We might miss an ineffable opportunity to experience God uniquely manifested before our eyes. As CS Lewis wrote, “Ones mind runs up the sunbeam to the sun.” First we have to notice the sunbeam and follow it’s lead till we see God’s love revealed to us through his creation. Then one might even be compelled to gratefulness in this present moment.

It is His love revealed to us in His creation. Are we attentive to it? Do you see it? It’s right under our noses, though most of us can’t see past the end of our own noses.

This is impermanence’s invitation to us. To open our eyes and see everything under the sun - and even the sun. To be present to this present moment, to our selves, to God’s presence, and to love. Let’s not miss this opportunity, because it is fleeting. Impermanent.

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