Blooming, Fading, Belonging

Recently, I lead a mindfulness guidance on the practice of impermanence.

Impermanence can seem like an abstract concept at first. We know intellectually that everything changes, yet we often live as though things will remain the same. The practice invites us to look more closely at our direct experience and notice the constant flow of change that is always taking place.

The next day, whilst driving through Derbyshire countryside I noticed the cow parsley lining the hedgerows.

Its delicate white flowers seemed to be everywhere.

Only a few weeks ago, they were barely visible. Now they were in bloom, bringing a quiet beauty to the lanes and fields. In a few weeks time, they will begin to fade, dry, and disappear until the next year.

As I looked at them, the words came to me:

Blooming. Fading. Belonging.

The blooming and fading - the cow parsley emerges, flourishes, and eventually fades away. It follows the same rhythm as every living thing. The seasons turn, flowers blossom and wither, leaves appear and fall.

Nature is continually demonstrating impermanence.

Yet it was the word belonging that stayed with me.

As human beings, we often experience ourselves as separate from nature. We speak of "going into nature" as though it were somewhere outside of us. Yet the more I reflected on the cow parsley, the more I am reminded that we are part of the same unfolding process.

We too have our seasons.

We experience growth, change, loss, renewal, beginnings and endings.

We bloom.

We fade.

And we belong.

There is something deeply reassuring in recognising this.

In my mindfulness practice, and in my work supporting people approaching the end of life, I am continually reminded that impermanence is not simply something to understand intellectually. It is something to be lived, and the profound experience at end of life.

Awareness of impermanence can sometimes sound gloomy or pessimistic. Yet I have found the opposite to be true.

When we remember that life is changing, appreciation naturally arises.

A conversation with a loved one becomes more precious.

A walk in nature becomes richer.

A flower by the roadside becomes worthy of our attention.

Not because these moments will last forever, but because they will not.

The cow parsley will soon fade.

Summer will pass into Autumn.

The seasons will continue their turning.

And perhaps that is part of their beauty.

The next time you notice a flower coming into bloom, pause for a moment.

Notice its beauty.

Notice its impermanence.

And notice the possibility that you belong to the same rhythm of life that moves through the flower, the seasons, and yourself.

Blooming.

Fading.

Belonging.

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Bob Chiang is a Mindfulness Teacher and End of Life Doula based in Derbyshire, UK. His work explores mindfulness, compassion, grief, and the wisdom that can be found in contemplating life's impermanence. Through Mindful End of Life (www.mindful-endoflife.com), he offers opportunities for reflection, conversation, and mindful practice.