Reckoning with Impermanence

Yesterday was April Fool's and I missed my annual joke with my boy, Jai, who loves a good prank.Though I was tracking time and days, and thinking up possible foolery, the day became more about the passing of a favorite aunt, whose life ended yesterday through death with dignity; and the sudden death of a highschool classmate's youngest daughter.

Solemnly, I lit the altar, and spent several hours walking in the woods and along the paths here in Port Townsend.The night before, my sister called with news of my dad's increasing pain levles, and the clear decline in his life force as the cancer metastasis overtakes his body.

Dad's still up, and showering--walking down the wide steps to breakfast at my sister and brother in law's lovely old LA home. But, he's having more fits of intense discomfort. He's been taking more pain meds, and next level pain management is coming. There's  talk of a hospital bed. Dad has noticeable shifts in his speech and capacity to fully express himself. We linger on the phone in long silences.

During yesterday's walk, I prayed aloud  and soon I was speaking to my ancestors, too;  specifically, my father's mother, Virginia, and her sister, my father's  favorite aunt, Elvira. I called on my father's father, William, and his father, also, William, when suddenly the appearance of the youngest William, my father's oldest brother, who died as a young man, overtook me.  I was so happy to feel his connection with my father, his presence as I made the prayer, and I invited them all to come to the aid of their son, nephew, brother, grandchild....

Later as I returned home, I realized how much better I felt. The heartbreak and heaviness had lifted considerably, and I felt present and at peace. Tender. Sunday, I'll return to  Los Angeles to be with my dad, and imagine after returning home, the following Thursday, I will likely head back to LA with a one way ticket for what may be his last weeks with us here.

As for my son, I did speak with him yesterday. And though we broke our April Fool's Day tradition, we shared a check in about my dad, his grandfather, who Jai will go visit this weekend.  My father has some things he will pass onto my son, his grandchild. I'm glad that will  happen now while my dad can take some pleasure in the giving.

I hope this story feels supportive of some part of your life that you're grieving now--your own reckoning with impermanence and what lives on...

Here's a poem I encountered last month by Dharma teacher Jennifer Welwood on just this.

The Dakini Speaks

My friends, let’s grow up.Let’s stop pretending we don’t know the deal here.Or if we truly haven’t noticed, let’s wake up and notice.Look: Everything that can be lost, will be lost.It’s simple — how could we have missed it for so long?Let’s grieve our losses fully, like ripe human beings,But please, let’s not be so shocked by them.Let’s not act so betrayed,As though life had broken her secret promise to us.Impermanence is life’s only promise to us,And she keeps it with ruthless impeccability.To a child she seems cruel, but she is only wild,And her compassion exquisitely precise:Brilliantly penetrating, luminous with truth,She strips away the unreal to show us the real.This is the true ride — let’s give ourselves to it!Let’s stop making deals for a safe passage:There isn’t one anyway, and the cost is too high.We are not children anymore.The true human adult gives everything for what cannot be lost.Let’s dance the wild dance of no hope!

© Jennifer Welwood

Would you like to connect in practice this season? Spring offerings include Spring Yoga Series, by zoom,  and an in person retreat, Yoga Summer Camp at Breitenbush Hot Springs, June 22 - 27th, 2025. One more opportunity for a Reset is coming too, and I'll give you more information about that next week.

In Service and Love,

Shannon