A couple of weeks ago, I was on my morning
walk with my dog Juno when I noticed a white spot in the fall leaves and grass. I walked past it but then turned around to check it out, and it was this little mouse. Dead. And on its back. The mouse looks peaceful and, well, kinda comfy, right?
To me mice are pretty cute. Not that I want any for pets, mind you. But I am okay with them, and they look endearing to me. So, I felt a genuine twinge of sadness as I hovered over the little mouse's "comfy" body to take its picture.
What struck me most about the mouse was the whole beautiful scene. Yes, beautiful. The adorable mouse, on its back "resting," its tender little paws positioned like my dog Juno when she wants me to rub her belly, and the lovely bed of leaves it found itself resting in.
As I hovered over the poor thing, it triggered a memory of this passage from the fantastic newsletter The Marginalian by Maria Popovich:
"What, then, of autumn — that liminal space between beauty and bleakness, foreboding and bittersweet, yet lovely in its own way? Colette, in her meditation on the splendor of autumn and the autumn of life, celebrated it as a beginning rather than a decline. But perhaps it is neither — perhaps, between its falling leaves and fading light, it is not a movement toward gain or loss but an invitation to attentive stillness and absolute presence, reminding us to cherish the beauty of life not despite its perishability but precisely because of it; because the impermanence of things — of seasons and lifetimes and galaxies and loves — is what confers preciousness and sweetness upon them."
Again - "to cherish the beauty of life not despite its perishability but precisely because of it."
Let's unpack this part of the phrase: "not to cherish the beauty of life despite its perishability" (or impermanence). I interpret this as not seeing life’s impermanence as something negative, a thing that is a problem, a downer, and something to be avoided.
Instead, we can embrace our impermanence (and the impermanence of the entire project taking place around us day in and day out) as something to cherish. When we face this brute reality with grace and acceptance, it allows us to experience that magical mix of bittersweet emotions, which I suspect is unique to us humans.
I had this experience this morning when I hugged my wife goodbye. With my head against hers I could see and smell her hair, which now has grey in it. We are in the final quarter of the game of life. I felt sadness and gratitude at the same time.
Sad that time is short (as it is for all of us) and sad that we will leave each other, but I am grateful for actually being present for that moment instead of it passing me by as a routine transaction, grateful that we are still together and happy, and grateful for this day and the ability to feel and experience these complex emotions.
In moments like these, like seeing the mouse in the leaves, there is an opportunity to break the trance of living and thinking we are all in most of the time and to stop and dip into the very human and bittersweet experiences that are so magical.
But only if we pay attention and fully embrace our impermanence without fear.
