Less is More: the only thing eternal is transition

Why do we feel that if something doesn’t last forever, we’ve failed? Human beings have always been obsessed with permanence, and this attitude pervades our relationships with others and our own self-identity. We are terrified of the idea of transition, to the point where we dig in our heels and attempt the impossible: to somehow, someway, even at great personal expense, make a moment last.

But what if we could shed these delusions, the desperate expectation of permanence? What if we didn’t expect these intense, perfect moments/unions/constructs to last forever? For lack of a better explanation, moments are precious because they are momentary. Impermanent. The briefest taste. Moments are fleeting, exhilarating, powerful, breathtaking, educational, exceptional; they are wonderful flushes of feeling that zap us and just as quickly recede. They are shocking and discombobulating in their swift entrance in our lives, and even swifter departure. I think the common despair comes from the assumption that if a moment can be frozen in time, so will its effects. It’s a cheat code, we think, that can prolong joy and exclude pain. What is so difficult to grasp is that the brevity of the moment is what produces the rush, the power, and the emotion. If you could jump out of an airplane and free fall for days, I guarantee you would eventually get bored. After enough time the screaming and flailing would stop, the adrenaline wouldn’t pump. Hell, you would even get bored after awhile and start looking around for a book. Moments are not equipped to last forever, and neither are we equipped to participate in them forever.

So I ask you another question: why can’t we just savor these moments for what they added to our lives, instead of representing what we now do not have? The lens of permanence makes one view life through anything but rose-colored glasses. To try to relate your level of success to the duration of important moments/unions/constructs is insensible. I once ascribed my riding a 2-wheeler with training wheels as a benchmark of success, but I no longer cling to that. That accomplishment is not relevant to my current station in life. It was a great stepping stone among the thousands that have composed my path in life, and I leave it at that. This mindset, of course, is harder to apply to the bigger landmarks- our first loves, our promotions, our rejections. But in the end, they all boil down to moments, and like it or not, none can be suspended.

My life on several occasions has changed course because of a sentence spoken, a single look, a wrong turn. The lesson imparted in seconds left an eternal impact.

We are an accumulation of every experience. Nothing lasts forever, except for the impacts and collisions of our lives with fleeting experiences, good or bad. We are modified by moments. I like to consider a moment as a grain of sand. Sure, it’s small, but boy, can that sucker be grating. Get enough sand particles, and suddenly you have an amazing dune, or a deep cut through solid rock – every moment leaves its mark. Every moment is a means of building you up or breaking you down, and in the end, the final result is your full life.

The lens of permanence is a myth, and it is undoubtedly tempting. But it is also is a quick and easy way of creating unnecessary despair.  True living entails passing from moment to moment. Take in the moments, let them give you momentum, and keep on keepin’ on as you traverse your path. When you consciously stop fighting to keep one grain of sand in your palm, you’ll find that you have an entire beach waiting for you.

 

A lovely moment with my girls.