I’m feeling impermanence in my bones this morning.
I want to know. Can this impermanence, this change, this progress of the seasons – as my life, as all our lives, wind down along the years – can it become so, in my mind, that change, impermanence, be neither good nor bad, but simply be?
Autumn, season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. The soft-dying day that touches the stubble-fields with rosy hue.
This was Bugs the other day. The contrast I noticed, thanks to impermanence, change, made this moment an especially glowing one.
Regular readers know that life with Bugs has been a rough ride at times.
I found him stray on the streets; I should say, he found me. I had no clue; Bugs was the first mammal I have ever, in my long life, had sole care for. He was so small his testicles hadn’t dropped. Who knows what, back then, he had to go through? Just to make it through another day?
In life with this little creature thereafter, I did my best to put on a cheerful face. To make light of being mauled in the early morning hours. From time to time, I let myself lapse into despair. Real authentic despair. All along, I had such wonderful help, from dear friends, colleagues, you dear readers – I got mauled anyway. More than I may have let on.
I was just saying, to one of those friends, that it seemed at times like I was living with a snake or a spider.
So the other day, when Bugs cuddled up next to me on the play mat, just before I took that snap – aaahhh, the joy of it. The sheer joy. Which joy, the contrast of impermanence had made fully realized.
This morning, though, here is the view out our window.
Impermanence has a different feel today.
The ridiculous: I hear MTV producers, of a documentary series called “True Life,” are only casting people 28 years young or younger who are struggling to live with our animals. I guess, then, my 62-year-old life must not be true. Not included in the real.
The sublime: I’m thinking of many family, friends, acquaintances, who’ve passed on in this season. Like they wanted to leave us in the glow of the softly dying day.