IMPERMANENCE

We often live with the illusion of permanence. We like to believe that things will stay as they are, that people, places, and even our own feelings are fixed and enduring. And yet, if we look closely, all of existence is in a state of flux. Nothing lasts forever; everything is temporary.

On some level, we understand this. We know that seasons turn, that our bodies change, that loved ones age. But knowing doesn’t always mean accepting. In our hearts, we often resist.

As Thich Nhat Hanh wrote: “Flowers decompose, knowing this does not prevent us from loving flowers. In fact, we are able to love them more because we know how to treasure them while they are still alive.”

It is not impermanence itself that causes suffering, but our wish for things to remain the same, for permanence. We suffer when we cling, when we hold on tightly and resist change.

A beautiful example of embracing impermanence comes from Tibetan Buddhist monks who create grain mandalas. These intricate patterns take days or weeks to complete, each grain placed with care in a meditative process. And yet, once finished, the mandala is swept away. The act is not about the artwork remaining it is about honouring the process and recognising the truth that all things arise and pass.

Impermanence teaches us to value and respect each moment. When we know something will not last, we can meet it more fully with gratitude.

A compassionate way of meeting impermanence begins with how we respond to change within ourselves. Our inner world is constantly shifting. Some moments feel light and open, others heavy and constricted. We might find ourselves caught in fear, pressure, or worry, and it can feel as though that state will never ease. But when we look more closely, we see that even the most intense emotions rise and fall, just as surely as the breath comes and goes.

In Buddhist teachings, compassion is the wish to ease suffering both our own and others’. It is not about fixing, avoiding or controlling life, but about turning toward experience with wisdom and understanding. When difficulties arise, we can meet them with a gentle inner voice rather than harsh self-criticism. Compassion allows us to rest in the flow of change.

This doesn’t mean we avoid pain. Rather, we acknowledge it with kindness: this moment feels hard, but it will not stay forever. Just as seasons shift, so too do our thoughts, moods, and sensations. To bring compassion to impermanence is to soften into life as it unfolds to stay present and open, even in the face of uncertainty.

The body is a good place to explore impermanence.  As we move and bring awareness to what is happening, we notice that sensations never stay the same. A tightness, a pulse, even intensity all of it shifts if we truly pay attention. What first feels overwhelming often softens, transforms, or moves. These subtle changes remind us that our experience is fluid and we can meet it with curiosity. 

Impermanence, when approached with compassion, becomes less of a threat and more of a teacher. Autumn reminds us of this each year: leaves blaze into colour and then fall, the air sharpens, and the earth prepares for rest. Nothing is wasted or lost; it is all part of the cycle of life. In the same way, every breath, every sensation, every encounter is precious precisely because it will not last. To live with compassion is to find strength to live with and welcome this truth and to notice the beauty of each season as it passes.