This moment will not last.
The one I’m holding on to will eventually let go.
What’s possible from impermanence is freedom.
Take a moment to get situated in a comfortable seated position.
Try to have your back upright, yet relaxed. Your feet rooted and grounded.
You can look around and slowly take in the space around you.
Notice what’s here. The light in the room. The shapes. The colors.
Just seeing. Just arriving.
And when you are ready, gently close your eyes.
Bell
Notice your breath.
The slow inhale.
The slow exhale.
How does it feel?
The temperature. Is it cold? Is it warm?
Just notice.
Notice your chest rising and falling.
The belly expanding, softening.
The subtle pause between breaths.
If your attention shifts from your breath to a thought—
just notice.
And then gently come back to noticing your breath.
Let yourself rest here for a few breaths.
Your breath is impermanent.
The in and the out.
It comes and goes.
It changes.
You can’t hold on to any one breath forever.
Each one arrives… stays for a moment… and leaves.
What a wonderful feeling this is.
To know that a thought we are holding onto—
that feels heavy, or difficult to be with—
will eventually let go?
That the present moment will gift us with change.
With something new.
And then that will change too.
Impermanence is the state of being that doesn’t last.
This moment right now… is going to change.
It’s going to become something different than it is right now.
When we look at impermanence of something—
Whether we’re addicted to a substance.
Or holding on to a person.
Or replaying a memory.
What if we could pause, and check in with ourselves in that moment…
and simply say…
“This, too, is impermanent.”
You feel that.
Even if we don’t like this feeling,
even if we wish it wasn’t here—
we can remember… it will change.
And with change comes possibility.
If I’m stuck in my thoughts…
And I get up, and I move, and I go outside, and I walk.
That’s impermanence.
That moment when I was sitting, clinging to my thoughts—
suffering—
changed.
Because I got up, and I moved.
And when I’m walking, yes, that same suffering could appear again.
And yet—
I continue to walk.
I listen to the sounds of the birds. Impermanence again.
I watch as the cars drive by. Impermanence again.
I say hi to a passing neighbor. Impermanence again.
Clouds drifting across the sky.
Wind shifting through the trees.
Sunlight warming the earth,
and then slipping behind the clouds.
The seasons turning, again and again.
All of nature reminds us:
Nothing stays the same.
Impermanence is woven into everything.
So I offer you something in this moment…
to think of what’s possible when we experience impermanence.
What is possible for us?
We can learn something new.
We can learn to say no to something that doesn’t serve us.
We can be more comfortable with the unknown.
We can be more in touch with the moment that’s happening right now.
And we can remember—
that whatever we are holding,
whatever feels heavy,
will eventually change.
Bell
Take a few slow breaths here.
Notice your body sitting.
Your feet rooted on the ground.
The air on your skin.
The sounds around you.
This moment too—
impermanent.
And yet, filled with possibility.
When you are ready, gently wiggle your fingers and toes.
Take a deep, cleansing breath.
And softly open your eyes.
Thank you for practicing with me.
Namaste.
