(Gentle readers, starting this week, I'll be cross-posting my weekly newsletter message here as well, for those who have not yet subscribed or who aren't big on email.)
Everything you have ever loved will die, dissolve, or be destroyed.
When I was a child, this knowledge kept me awake at night. Impermanence terrified me. I felt powerless in the face of it. I was. I am. We all are.
As I have gotten older, however, and particularly as I have embraced my Goddess dharma path, I have come to realize that destruction is a liberation of sorts. Sometimes it is a needed liberation. Sometimes it is a tragic liberation. Sometimes, it is a freedom we did not know we wanted or needed. Sometimes, it hurts. It is totally OK to have all of our feelings about what was, what might have been. But then, we need to move on, for the world is surely still moving with or without us, and in order to be included in the new creation that is emerging from what was, we must be present and ready to do the work. That work does not have to wistful. It might be nostalgic, but it does not have to be grim.
We can dance in the flames and ashes of what was, and we must dance this dance in order to create anew.
What if there are no solutions to humanity's problems? What if that wide awake moment of global awakening never comes? What if everything we do as artists, activists, spiritual practitioners, and creators is for nothing?
Relax. It is. It is for nothing. The good news is, She of the Great Nothing is watching, listening, and enjoying everything you create RIGHT NOW. Since it is all temporary, it is all perfectly precious RIGHT NOW.
Everything we ever build will disappear eventually. This doesn't mean we should not build for the future. This does not mean we should not strive to do better than before. This does not mean we should leave quality and care and diligence aside. It means we GET to do well right now, this very minute. It means we get to enjoy each creation fully in its time of ripeness. It means we get to plan creative destruction rather than painful destruction to the best of our ability.
The fact that everything dissolves makes its crystalline form right now that much more beautiful. What is reflected in the prism of your life right now that you are taking for granted? Where have you failed to show appreciation? How might you savor the juice of the ripened fruit of your life at this very moment, then let the pits and seeds fall where they may, to bloom anew?