This morning’s meditation was about holding on to sandcastles. Being human, we have a natural tendency to build and create things that last. We have some notion that committing to something means that we can stop it from never ending just by sheer force of our will. We think that building sturdy strong structures can somehow be a legacy for generations because of stellar engineering. We think that once we have the right job, the right car, the right partner or the right bankroll, we are set. We forget that the only thing that is permanent is plastic. (But that’s another blog topic altogether.)
The longer I live the more I am informed by the Universe that everything changes. I was joking with a friend yesterday that I’m on my 8th house. This is the 8th one that I’ve OWNED. This doesn’t count apartments, roommate situations and other temporary living arrangements. Before I bought my first house, I was consumed with worry about the commitment of 30 years to a house! How did I know I’d want to stay that long? What if something happened to my job and I couldn’t pay for it? The worry was insane. Now, I know if something changes, you can just sell it. Sometimes it’s not easy-peasy, and sometimes you lose money, but money, too, is easy-come-easy-go.
My teacher on my meditation asked me to remember when as kids we built sandcastles on the beach. Sometimes we spent hours and hours and built really elaborate sandcastles on the beach – always knowing they would disappear by morning if not before we left the beach. We did not cry over leveled sandcastles because that’s what the ocean does. We knew it was impermanent. It was the effort and the moment that mattered.
This year has been a leveling of many sandcastles. Hurricanes, earthquakes, the mass shooting in Vegas, the tearing down of the “administrative state”, and raging wildfires are leveling and continuing to level the sandcastles built before them. Costly, painful and consumed by loss our nation staggers through the ruins. Some faces are streaming with tears. Others raise a fist and say, “yeah… tear it down,” often proclaiming that an angry God is bringing justice. Some blame someone else while others wearily search for a scapegoat. “What is happening here,” we all ask with some level of urgency?
Is what we’ve built here on this planet a sandcastle? Is my very life a sandcastle? What wave will overtake us and wash us into oblivion? We have to let go of the outcome to remain sane. We have to accept that all things must pass at some point. But, in the meantime we have to remember that the effort to build and rebuild and refine and create is what makes us tick. Creating and loving and nurturing is what we do best. We must know that we are merely building sandcastles …. and yet we must somehow once again, find the will to create …. and then probably watch them wash away.