A lovely walk with friends down by the creek, dotted with fleeting spring ephemerals at every turn. The trees are leafing out and the sky was as blue as it gets.
People have no respect for impermanence. We take no delight in it; in fact, we despair of it. We regard it as pain. We try to resist it by making things that will last — forever, we say — things that we don’t have to wash, things that we don’t have to iron. Somehow, in the process of trying to deny that things are always changing, we lose our sense of the sacredness of life. We tend to forget that we are part of the natural scheme of things.
~ Pema Chödrön
(When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times)
And for an everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #466)
We are seeing, then, that our experience is altogether momentary. From one point of view, each moment is so elusive and so brief that we cannot even think about it before it has gone. From another point of view, this moment is always here, since we know no other moment than the present moment. It is always dying, always becoming past more rapidly than imagination can conceive. Yet at the same time it is always being born, always new, emerging just as rapidly from that complete unknown we call the future. Thinking about it almost makes you breathless.
~ Alan Watts
(The Wisdom of Insecurity: A Message for an Age of Anxiety)
The green-and-golds and the violet wood-sorrels were new wildflowers for me.