Blame is a product of fear and pain. This I know for certain. How much of that pain and fear is self chosen? How much of that blame should i place on myself?
Every day I hurt more than the last, the happiness nothing more than short periods between storms. This is how I’ve lived for my entire life, and until now i thought that was normal. I can see now that it is far from just that.
In the morning, I write. In the evening, I write. There is an incredible difference in my tone and subjects between those two times. The evenings are defined by melancholy, the mornings by jubilant excitement for life.
Yet, in the mornings there is also always a foreboding of the sadness yet to come. Night always comes after morning, in my eyes.
There is a reframing of sorts happening here; a new intent. Lately, I’ve been obsessed with the phrase, “never the same river twice.”
What does it mean? Briefly, impermanence. What may look familiar to you is guaranteed to be completely different beneath the surface. Sometimes in huge, clear ways but usually in very subtle ways.
My days of writing all seem to be the same at quick glance, but this phrase has helped me to see that maybe there are some underlying differences that could help me make a big, positive change.
For now, I have no idea what that looks like in practice.
All i know for certain is that i must continue to write. To discover what it may be.
Here’s some homework, reader:
Define “impermanence” in your own context. Use your life as an example.
Once you’ve done that, go out into the world and find impermanence. Observe it, write it down, understand it.
I promise you’ll find something new.
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