Three things on the shore
Suffering less in the changes that come.
On a recent windy day, I was at the coast, and as I walked along the surf, I was reminded of the phrase “the sea has no memory.”
Unlike humans, the phrase means that the ocean does not retain past experiences or hold onto memories; it constantly changes and is not affected by past events, signifying a sense of timelessness and the ability to exist in the present moment without the burden of the past.
This idea came to mind and stayed as both a challenge and a comfort. It is a challenge to see that I will suffer less if I accept the impermanence of this life. And a comfort that I needn’t let conditions present today define tomorrow.
It was vastly different the last time I was near this same shoreline. As I walked, each tide changed the conditions of the previous tide. In this dramatic cycle of nature, the speed of impermanence can be powerfully observed.
I picked up three things laid bare on the beach by the waves. A stone tumbled smooth for many years, a shell cracked open by the tide, and a US quarter. These things caught my eye. As I sat to reflect, each served as a revelation of what time and impermanence do.
New year, a new tide
A new year approaches, and I’ve been thinking about impermanence—how all things are passing away. Please don’t take back my invitations to your New Year’s Eve parties. I promise I can read a room and won’t bring my melancholy thoughts to the punch table.
The idea of everything passing away might seem like a dark and unwelcome thought, but it applies to the good and the bad. No matter how things are, they will someday not be that way. Good or bad.
While this is a hard truth to remember, it’s more challenging for those struggling with worth. If our worth is built on the condition of anything in this world, we are putting ourselves in a precarious situation. People who struggle with their worth are inclined to stake their well-being on accomplishments, health, appearance, accumulations, or relationship status. All these things are passing away.
The three things I picked up revealed truths about impermanence.
Smooth stone.
A stone’s corners are polished smooth by tumbling forward in time on the tides. What it was 30 years ago no longer is, but what it is now reveals beauty only available today—a smoothness that is a joy to hold.
Can I release my attachment to the shape of things today?
Cracked open
The shell was created layer by layer and tightly formed over time. The inside was in complete darkness and lay on the ocean floor. The tide has cracked it open. What was once in complete darkness is now met by the sun's rays from miles away.
The conditions in which things are formed are transformed to become the near opposite, revealing a beauty wholly different from what it was once.
The quarter
The once well-defined words and art on the coin were worn nearly smooth. Empires' precise and careful designs dissolve, and all the earthly kingdoms fade into a semblance of what they once were.
Am I okay with all the carefully laid plans I trouble my mind over being lost to time? What I was once precise and careful about may only be similar to what is seen now.
Relish, but don’t cling
Enjoying the present moment but not clinging to the state of things is the move. We can all get attached to the present moment, which will add to our suffering. We will inevitably experience loss as the tide of time takes from us, but we can minimize our suffering by not clinging to the present conditions.
Be well friends.