This Too Shall Pass

“I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses.“ – F. Scott Fitzgerald

Sometimes rose is just a rose but all the time rose exists because dirt is and every rose eventually becomes dirt. Ignoring this cycle is the cause of great suffering: imagine yourself mourning every rose dying. Instead, in full acceptance, we enjoy beauty and fragrance it offers on weddings, birthdays, funerals, Valentine’s or just because the moment is right. Somewhere, in the back of our mind, we know: that beauty will soon wrinkle away, the fragrance will eventually seize to exist and the rose will end up in a garbage bin. We don’t obsess about it, we just know. We don’t panic about it even if we remember.

Today, sit with a flower and enjoy what it is offering. Dwell happily in the present moment with it. Surrender to appreciation, gratitude and nourishment it has to offer. And when the time is right, accept the change and move on. Another moment arises: a butterfly, a cloud, a hug. That, too, is impermanent. Let it go, let it be, come back home to your breath.

This too shall pass.