Making peace with impermanence

The truth about this moment: Cate is mad because her brothers are leaving her out. From a distance I couldn't tell. All I knew is that I felt compelled to snap a photo, freeze it in time.

I’ve taken thousands of photos of their childhood, but this summer, I committed to experiencing more and documenting less. This quick snap on my iPhone proves that quite often, you only need one to recall the memory.

And, as much as I've tried, you can't really capture magic. Like fireflies, the moment illuminates, and then disappears. This moment of watching them on a quiet beach was over in about five minutes. They were soon on to something else.

As I take an inventory at midyear, and at midlife, I’m making peace with impermanence. I like how it presents itself as a non-negotiable, not subjective, a fact. Impermanence feels holy, sacred.

I will always long for the way things were. I will never move forward without first looking back over my shoulder. But again and again, the reality of impermanence wakes me up to the new right now, the new magic, waiting in its place. ✨