We’re going to lose it all. And, bizarrely, that’s a good thing.
I’m no expert on Buddhism (in fact, I just misspelled the word on my first attempt) but what I have learned has inspired me. One practice in particular that has really helped me personally are the 5 daily remembrances – 5 truths that we can say out loud to ourselves every day. I remember the first time I heard them, one in particular made me recoil:
I will be separated from everything that is dear to me.
When I heard those words, I immediately thought of the things and people MOST dear to me, and thought, why would I want to entertain the thought of losing them?
And, of course, the only answer to that question is: because I will. And understanding the temporariness of absolutely everyone and every thing that I think I “have,” is the only real way to savor and appreciate every sacred moment I have with them today.
When I’m on autopilot, I’m doing the opposite. I’m either trying to take what I love or “need” in my life and make it permanent (How can I never run out of money? How can I avoid aging? How can I hold onto this part of my child and stop them from growing out of it?) or I’m just treating it like it is permanent and then taking it for granted. But nothing I have is permanent. My health, my daughter, any closeness that I feel with my wife, any dollar that I’ve earned – I will lose all of it. That may not happen until the day I die, or, it may happen sooner. But it will happen.
We live in a world in which we’re bracingly reminded that nothing is permanent. I can easily work myself up into a state of terror trying to imagine how climate change and technology will change this world, and everything we’re going to lose. But really, the most radical act of resistance that I have at my disposal - and the one that is fully within my locus of control – is to be alive to the things that I do have right now.
How would you live today if you could truly feel in your bones the reality that it WILL all be gone? How radically would that put you in touch with what really matters? How would that reshape your idea of what truly feels urgent?
When I first heard the Buddhist remembrances, I thought to myself, “that’s some dark s*#%.” Now I see it as the most powerful and authentic gratitude exercise that I can do. It’s the only way that I can remind myself that being “present” isn’t a “nice to have” but an urgent call to actually be alive to the finite number of days we have on this planet. Often, that’s not enough and I still find ways to take things for granted. But on my best days it helps me put things in perspective. It helps me say the words “I love you” to people when I feel it, even when I’m scared to. It helps me take risks in work and in life to be more honest and open. It helps me question whether I really want to spend my finite minutes with my family checking the internet for trivial updates on the election.
Even when it doesn’t change what I’m doing, it helps me remember a deeper truth that underlies this exercise: we don’t have to be scared of reality. In fact, only good things can come from facing the hard truths that we might reflexively turn away from. And that is something worth trying to hold onto.
