Anyone who has ever seen a Buddhist monk create a sand mandala only to later destroy it knows about impermanence. Anyone who has watched a pet fish die knows about impermanence. I am becoming a student of this philosophy and learning more each day about the idea of clinging. See, impermanence is the reality of and acceptance of the fact that nothing is permanent. We can embrace this ideal by accepting that things will change and enjoying the moment we have. We can reject this ideal by clinging to what is happening now and trying as we might to maintain a moment. I try to apply this philosophy to all that I do in life now. I apply it to love, to expectations, to sports, to parenting. All of these things exist, for me, in flux. Nothing is fixed. Each moment shall be different and yield different emotions.
I have loved, and lost, and divorced, and loved again, and watched that bond strained by clinging. I have expected and been pleased and been disappointed, and expected again with similar results. I have played, and coached, and anticipated (see: expectations) and lost site of the moment in search of the goal. This has hurt my kids, my players, and myself. I have seen my kids grow and my role change as a father and clung, and been saddened by the loss of togetherness and, in some moments held them back and in others watched them fly. This too must change because clinging to a thing that explodes leaves me injured. Watching it explode into beautiful light brings me pleasure.
Ten minutes of faux buddhist philosophy on a day we presently leave to the Gods. I think that is fitting.