You may revisit the material in this free series as many times as you want.
I’ve found that my life lessons often spiral around, and I imagine they do for you, too: even when I think I really understand something, when I encounter it again, I still learn more, at a completely different level. You might want to bookmark this course, so you can come back.
As many philosophies (including Buddhism) point out, everything changes; nothing is permanent on this earth. We are constantly in transition, with our minds learning and our bodies slowly moving toward death. That can seem really morbid and sad, but I find it incredibly inspiring, to know that, like my beloved dogs, and everyone else I love, my time here in this life is limited.
And even when my thoughts seem to be looping, they are also subtly changing and adapting.
I don’t have to do or know everything – no one has time for that. And this may sound morbid, but I don’t have to put up with with anything here forever, even the things that seem impossible for me to change, because I will eventually die.
That’s the beauty of impermanence. It’s not my job. I don’t have to rush the process of my dying, or run from it, either. My purpose, as I see it, is to learn to connect to myself and others and experience my senses. More about purpose toward the end of this section.
I figure that since my death going to happen eventually, no matter what, I might as well see what I can do with the time I have. I have lost a beloved husband. I have lost soulmate dogs, other dogs, and other friends and family. And as painful as each of those experiences are, they touched deep to my core, they gave me an experience shared by all of humanity.
When I fully acknowledged the feelings, and savored them, I saw that they, too, are not permanent, not constant. Knowing that even grief does not last forever, nor does any emotional state, I can intensely feel each moment as it is and let it be. When something happens, it isn’t possible to make it un-happen, and the only path to peace I’ve found is acceptance of what is.
When I accept things as they already are, I stop putting energy into fighting the past. I can live in the present and lean my actions forward into the future, knowing all the while that I truly have no idea what the future may bring.
Accepting that this Buddhist concept of groundlessness is just the way of the world, that there is no solid and completely unchangeable ground to find, was a revolution in my life. As Ruth King says, nothing is Perfect, Personal, or Permanent.
And of course, I don’t rest in this acceptance all the time; I forget and have to circle back to it. But it’s something that’s proven useful to me. Buddhism isn’t a religion, more like a philosophy, and a lot of its tenets bring me clarity.
In a sense, impermanence is my “ground.” I feel solid in the knowledge that everything changes and depends on perspective, on time. I also have some spiritual ideas of what may be relatively more constant in the universe. You may find ground in your religious faith, or something else. Do whatever works for you.
We’ve already talked about grief, transitions, and loss, something that we all experience as humans. All transitions can bring some measure of grief. In addition to being just really unpleasant, an unfiltered experience of my own grief has been a wonderful teacher and a path to joy. It sounds a little trite, but it’s really true.
In the next lesson in the blog, I’ll talk about acceptance and joy and what those look like, with some practical ways to invite in acceptance of whatever you’re currently grieving, then we’ll look into how to avoid toxic positivity and leaning into the experience of grief.