The clock never stops ticking. The wheel always turns. Sometimes this grief hits me like a wave, square in the face. Though it is precisely because of this ephemerality that the moment is precious and beautiful. Every moment holds its own — though arising and decaying all at once, nevertheless whole in itself, as transient as it is eternal. A koan for keeps.
010. on impermanence & generosity
010. on impermanence & generosity
010. on impermanence & generosity
The clock never stops ticking. The wheel always turns. Sometimes this grief hits me like a wave, square in the face. Though it is precisely because of this ephemerality that the moment is precious and beautiful. Every moment holds its own — though arising and decaying all at once, nevertheless whole in itself, as transient as it is eternal. A koan for keeps.