Change is Constant - Death is Inevitable

It’s a warm summer day in 2018 and I just flew over Mount Saint Helens. From the vantage point in the airplane, the huge volcanic crater is very visible and awe inspiring. It brought to mind the constant changes occurring every millisecond.

Mount Saint Helens was once a majestic mountain with no crater. Now it’s a majestic mountain with a huge crater and evidence for miles of the landscape it impacted.

My destination is Huntington Beach, California. My son and I are on the plane with his father Steve’s ashes to lay him to rest in one of his favorite places. Just a couple of months ago he was alive and full of jokes and plans for the year ahead. Now, he’s a memory and those who love him are forever changed because he lived, and died.

Change is constant. The earth, space, our bodies, our minds, our lives. Everything.

I ask myself, “Why do humans struggle to prevent change through forcing our will with certain circumstances or issues? Why do we feel such anguish over changes, like death or illness or natural disasters? Why is acceptance not more natural?”

We want to be comfortable. We want changes that feel good or look good or somehow give the illusion of immortality. We love to have those moments when we feel as if we could control an outcome or create exactly what we want in our lives. Moments when it feels as if there is a guarantee of our eternal happiness and security.

How many times have we looked back at something we wanted so much we thought it would kill us if we couldn’t have it? A relationship, a job, a home, a child… and sometimes, looking back we realize we received something far better than what we were struggling to receive. The truth is, we don’t know what lies ahead even though we try to plan for everything.

Sometimes when I think about Steve being gone from this life, a grief wave comes over me and tears flow as if from a hidden reservoir I didn’t realize was about to overflow. I don’t want him to be gone. For my son, for me, for his family, for him. It feels too early. I feel like he missed out on so much of life. I feel pain that he chose to harm himself with alcohol and cigarettes year after year – may be I even feel some anger. Mostly I’m just sad he’s gone. This isn’t a change I want to accept.

Steve told me he wouldn’t live very long. He joked with me and others many times about “treating his body like an amusement park.” He was always joking – joking through pain, heartbreak and joy. It was one of his greatest attributes and one of his greatest escapes.

People come and go. Landscapes change. We change. The only thing constant is change.

Buddhist philosophies teach about accepting that everything is temporary and clinging to nothing. Clinging to and grasping for things we want or think we need are the cause of suffering according to these teachings and others.

I cling to many things, and mostly to people. I don’t want them to go – ever. I didn’t want Steve to go, or my mom, or my step-son…. The list goes on. And, death is a basic fact of life. Tomorrow I may have a new awareness that allows me to loosen my grip.

Change is constant. Many people aren’t with us anymore. Like the crater in Mt Saint Helens, there are gaps in our hearts these loved ones once filled through sharing in life together. And the fact they lived and we loved them creates a majestic landscape in our souls – a landscape we can treasure even though it’s changed.