The Impermanence of All Things

Dearly beloved, we are gathered together tonight to honor the passing of
Frank and Fritz. (10/31/2005 - 11/18/2005).

They are headed off to that big compost heap in the sky (okay, that big compost heap in the back yard -- neither of them were particularly religious).

They may have passed on to adventures in some Tim Burton production on the other side . . .

But we shall always remember them as they were:

Ever vigilant by the front doorstep, always prepared to terrify and delight.

Yes, in his later days, the black mold-bloom in Frank's innards took a toll on those who lifted his lid to light a candle, but he put a brave face on it, preferring to just allow it to creep out between his pumpkin-seed teeth, thinking of it simply as an enhancement to his Halloween sneer. What a trooper.

It must have been hard for Fritz to watch his brother go like that, but he never let on.

True -- their lives were short, but can we measure the value of a being by hours and days? And . . . . I'm sure, like Arnold, they would simply say: "We'll be back".

This is one of the things I love about Andy Goldsworthy's work -- his willingness to deal with -- nay! -- to relish! -- impermanence. (If you haven't yet seen Rivers and Tides, I strongly recommend that you do so.)

In the past few days, I've been having some synchronistic experiences with the subject of impermanence.

You might have read my recent blog entry where I "posted pictures" of our trip to San Juan Island -- pictures that I did not take with my camera, but with my mind -- subject to change over time, I'm sure, as my internal assimilation of that trip continues.

Last night, we watched "Little Buddha", with it's homey, westernized version of tibetan buddhism. (Now, this is totally off-topic, but who does Keano Reeves sleep with to get these roles?!? In my opinion, his portrayal of samadhi was soooo goofy! I have seen cowboys exiting a whorehouse who display more beatific smiles!)

To get back to the post-title -- the subject of impermanence was touched on in this film -- (IMHO played nicely in the death scene of the llama who has finally found his previous teacher).

And today, it became clear to me that Frank and Fritz were due for recycling. (Actually, Frank more than Fritz, but I just couldn't bear to separate them.)

There is a saying: "What you resist, persists."

Which might explain why things I take pleasure in seem to skim away so easily, while experiences I attempt to avoid seem to hang around and recur and return with amazing regularity and persistence.

Today, I woke up with that weird "Luke-I-Sense-a-Disturbance-in-the-Force" Feeling. I still don't know whether it was the heavy November sky, some random and unremembered dream, or fore-knowledge of the some of the people who would ring my door-bell or phone today (one quite unexpectedly, that was a definite surprise, but not a delight). The feeling has waxed and waned throughout the day, but it still seems to be perched over my right shoulder somehow.

I am working with non-resistance to this sensation. It doesn't feel particularly "bad", but I also don't find it particularly enjoyable. It is an "Is". I figure that embracing it will help it move along, as embracing my pleasurable experiences seems to result in them moving along.

The question for me tonight is: How to best wrap my arms around this vague sensation?

Using my intellect hasn't helped. I've turned the searchlight of my mind here and there most of the day -- "Is it this?" -- " Is it that?" -- to no avail. I've sat with my body (took a hot bath this afternoon) to see if it could reveal anything to me about the nature or source of this sensation -- also to no avail.

But I cop to the fact that most of these searchings have, as the underlying motive, the thought that if I can "get it", it will "go away" -- which is just another form of resistance.

I want to learn to sit in grace with all forms of experience. Real grace. Real acceptance. The kind that is assimilated and innate and natural to me -- not some forced mental discipline ("Now, don't think like that -- you know where that goes!")

I actually do notice that I have successfully integrated a lot of practices and understanding that used to feel like "work" to me -- so I know that it is possible to restrain the mind and and reshape the manner of how I experience consciously.

But today, as I have been feeling/experiencing this "disturbance" sensation, I have found myself "talking myself down" into relaxation and embracing of it -- the result of which has been the kind of "relaxation" I experience in the dentist chair in response to the dentist's "Now just relax!" -- which my body always interprets as "Okay, here comes the torture!" That's just sooo relaxing.

And nothing "bad" has happened today.

In terms of circumstances and events go, the day's been just fine. The only undesirable thing, to me, really, has been this weird sense of suspension -- anticipation of ---- what? Something.

Definitely something.

The day's not over yet. Perhaps I'll post after circle and let you know what, if anything, reveals itself.

In the meantime, I shall chant the mantra: "This too, shall pass."

I imagine Frank and Fritz are chanting that, too.