This morning as we filtered through a lifetime of memories I was mostly struck at how much stuff we accumulate over our lives and it ends up being thrown into a landfill or given to a thrift store. Even the thrift store stuff eventually ends up in a landfill.
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.
All my mom’s things were sorted. But what is making me more troubled than her death is the absolute impermanence of everything. Our babies are placed into our arms and in a blink they are out on their own.
I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment’s gone.
We are born, we die. I can’t decide if that is the most terrifying fact or the most liberating. We are given this space to do whatever our purpose here is and then it’s done. And the thing is nobody knows what that purpose of all this is. Nobody. Not you. Not me. Not Oprah or the Pope. Not Billy Graham or Stephen Hawking. Not the junkie with a needle in his arm or the doctor that cares for him. We do try to figure it out though. Or maybe the most ironic thing is there is no purpose.
All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.
Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.
The older I get the more confused I become. But I do know this. Love. Love is always the answer. Always. And I will leave you with my deep and profound gratitude that we stumbled across each other while finding our way on this planet.
Namaste. ( I bow to you.)