Part of me really does understand that the awareness that Everything must someday come to an end changes the quality of my experience.
Knowing that anything could change at any time keeps me humble, attentive, and grateful, and reminds me not to take anything or anyone for granted.
And yet, I also notice that there's another part of me that just wants to close my eyes to this fact of life, and pretend that there is something solid, dependable, and trustworthy to lean on.
Unfortunately, I can't get away with that anymore. The illusion of physical and emotional security has become so flimsy and transparent that I can't even pretend to rest in it.
I imagine that at some point, I may find shelter and comfort within the awareness that everything is transitory, but that hasn't happened consistently quite yet. So for now, I vacillate back and forth between acceptance and fear, excitement and grief.
Some days I am quite content to build elaborate castles in the sand, even though I know they will inevitably be destroyed.
Other days, I think, Meh... why bother? It will just get washed away anyhow.
But then, after a little while of just sitting there apathetically, I look around and think, Well, gee, what else is there to do here on this beach, really? That sand does feel good to play with. Spose I might as well build something ...