At the wise age of 57, this piece reminds me of a time in my late 20’s when my job was peaking, when I had an amazing group of 6-8 friends, my family was close, and I had joined a country club (golf was my primary hobby). It was all so comfortable and perfect. I wanted to bottle it up and make it permanent.
Then over the course of a year, I was re-org’d into a different job, several friends moved away, and I was offered a job in a city 40 miles away and my playing golf after work went by the wayside. I struggled with what I would come to know as impermanence. That life is impermanent - as your essay describes, and my work was not to dread the impermanence but to accept it and embrace it. To live into the wonderful mystery of it. Over time as I was able to do this, I discovered that, like a tree shedding its bark in order to grow and not suffocate, that impermanence is the byproduct of growth, and that I was outgrowing my old life and way of being one life stage at a time. That my old life was in some way too small for me.
And finally, by 57 I have a collection of friends, from these different stages of impermanence - and that letting go of some old friends made room for new friends and relationships that would become deeper than the ones I was letting go of. And I suspect by the time I’m 67 and 77, one of two of my current friends will become a bit more distant as I make room for the one or two I haven’t yet met - like my sending you this (long) note this am, is one I’m not sending to someone else and a year ago we didn’t know each other - and THAT is wonderful in my book.
“The only choice is to become a citizen of loss or stubbornly struggle against its inevitability. To lurk in the corner or step into the dance between grief and celebration. Grief for separation. Celebration that I was here at all to share a little slice of existence.” Being the same age as James Bailey, having a few decades on you, I have chosen to step into the dance after a lifetime on the sidelines. Ego aside, I will initiate, connect, in order to reach out to those important to me. Always. Forever. The choice to despair loss or maintain the relationships I have is really mine alone. In this day and age, no one needs to be any farther than a FaceTime. Can you repeat the 4 University years of beautiful friendships? No. But with humility, thoughtfulness and a group Zoom, you can keep your besties best. It’s your choice. Love as always, Dad.
Interesting piece, Tommy. "Loss is the price we pay for life" made me think. What is loss, really? I guess it's the separation from something physical, tangible. Something you can touch and hold. Viewed as such, loss shouldn't really bother me. Or should it? I used to attribute a much higher value to physical availability of things and people. Things changed with time. I still treasure to be with the ones I love, but at the same time I know that they are such a part of me that I will never really lose them. In my twenties, loss identified with such a steep price to pay. Now, not so much. Unless of course I decided to change the definition of loss, and enlarge it to include intangibles, feelings, memories, etc. But do I really lose them? I don't know. I love open questions. :)
I loved the comparison of our life to a neighborhood garage sale. Everything. Must. Go. If you ever start selling swag you need to have a T-shirt with this on it.
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy! Reading your essay was like unwrapping a many-layered gift. I have been pondering loss, impermanence, and release lately, contemplating ways of describing these inevitable parts of life. You crafted so many images, insights, and emotions deftly.
What has come to mind for me is moving down a river. I can choose to flounder, desperately trying to breathe, or glide in a canoe with a strong paddle to adjust my speed. If I choose to rest beside a safe bank for a while to enjoy a scene, I can catch my breath. If I stay too long, I will miss the rest of the delights downstream. Companions may join me for part of the ride. We will always share a part of the stream, but they have their own journeys to take.
Thank you for awakening these emotions with your magic wand.
Such lovely writing. I always look forward to reading these... and hearing your life updates. It’s definitely a strange thing, people rising and falling in your life. Miniature empires in time built and destroyed. While it is not possible to recreate university times when all your friends live with you or are in a five minute walk, you can always keep those who are most important close. Since Jan 2021 I’ve had a weekly recurring call with my best pal. We only see each other once per month on average, less when I travel but I feel immensely close to him. Thanks for helping us think pal. Keep on writing.
“Nothing lasts, I suppose. Like a neighborhood garage sale. Everything. Must. Go”
I think about this a lot. Everything we believe to be ‘ours’ or belong to us, we will someday lose. And if we don’t lose it, it will lose us. It’s difficult to process, but I think it helps to remind ourselves that ‘things’ aren’t really the problem, it’s just our attachment to them that makes life difficult.
As gloomy as this sounds, I think there’s also comfort to be found in the fact that we can come to understand the true nature of our reality through practices such as vipassana. Not from outside in, but the inside out. When we look closely enough we see that this separate self is nothing more a narrative constructed by the ego, probably having evolved as a survival mechanism. It is, however, just an illusion. This is where the hope lies. There has to be a self to be suffering. No self, no suffering. Realising this from within is a lifetimes work, though.
I never write comments about his long, but your posts do warrant such lengthy responses.
great essay Tommy. im also back on the waking up app and am wondering why i ever left! did 15 mins a day everyday this month which has helped me (slightly) regain my sanity. hope its helping you too!
Oh, Tommy. What a deep reflection here.
At the wise age of 57, this piece reminds me of a time in my late 20’s when my job was peaking, when I had an amazing group of 6-8 friends, my family was close, and I had joined a country club (golf was my primary hobby). It was all so comfortable and perfect. I wanted to bottle it up and make it permanent.
Then over the course of a year, I was re-org’d into a different job, several friends moved away, and I was offered a job in a city 40 miles away and my playing golf after work went by the wayside. I struggled with what I would come to know as impermanence. That life is impermanent - as your essay describes, and my work was not to dread the impermanence but to accept it and embrace it. To live into the wonderful mystery of it. Over time as I was able to do this, I discovered that, like a tree shedding its bark in order to grow and not suffocate, that impermanence is the byproduct of growth, and that I was outgrowing my old life and way of being one life stage at a time. That my old life was in some way too small for me.
And finally, by 57 I have a collection of friends, from these different stages of impermanence - and that letting go of some old friends made room for new friends and relationships that would become deeper than the ones I was letting go of. And I suspect by the time I’m 67 and 77, one of two of my current friends will become a bit more distant as I make room for the one or two I haven’t yet met - like my sending you this (long) note this am, is one I’m not sending to someone else and a year ago we didn’t know each other - and THAT is wonderful in my book.
The wisdom of impermanence.
OK - all done - sorry for the long note!
“The only choice is to become a citizen of loss or stubbornly struggle against its inevitability. To lurk in the corner or step into the dance between grief and celebration. Grief for separation. Celebration that I was here at all to share a little slice of existence.” Being the same age as James Bailey, having a few decades on you, I have chosen to step into the dance after a lifetime on the sidelines. Ego aside, I will initiate, connect, in order to reach out to those important to me. Always. Forever. The choice to despair loss or maintain the relationships I have is really mine alone. In this day and age, no one needs to be any farther than a FaceTime. Can you repeat the 4 University years of beautiful friendships? No. But with humility, thoughtfulness and a group Zoom, you can keep your besties best. It’s your choice. Love as always, Dad.
Interesting piece, Tommy. "Loss is the price we pay for life" made me think. What is loss, really? I guess it's the separation from something physical, tangible. Something you can touch and hold. Viewed as such, loss shouldn't really bother me. Or should it? I used to attribute a much higher value to physical availability of things and people. Things changed with time. I still treasure to be with the ones I love, but at the same time I know that they are such a part of me that I will never really lose them. In my twenties, loss identified with such a steep price to pay. Now, not so much. Unless of course I decided to change the definition of loss, and enlarge it to include intangibles, feelings, memories, etc. But do I really lose them? I don't know. I love open questions. :)
Thanks for this beautiful reflection.
I loved the comparison of our life to a neighborhood garage sale. Everything. Must. Go. If you ever start selling swag you need to have a T-shirt with this on it.
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy! Reading your essay was like unwrapping a many-layered gift. I have been pondering loss, impermanence, and release lately, contemplating ways of describing these inevitable parts of life. You crafted so many images, insights, and emotions deftly.
What has come to mind for me is moving down a river. I can choose to flounder, desperately trying to breathe, or glide in a canoe with a strong paddle to adjust my speed. If I choose to rest beside a safe bank for a while to enjoy a scene, I can catch my breath. If I stay too long, I will miss the rest of the delights downstream. Companions may join me for part of the ride. We will always share a part of the stream, but they have their own journeys to take.
Thank you for awakening these emotions with your magic wand.
Such lovely writing. I always look forward to reading these... and hearing your life updates. It’s definitely a strange thing, people rising and falling in your life. Miniature empires in time built and destroyed. While it is not possible to recreate university times when all your friends live with you or are in a five minute walk, you can always keep those who are most important close. Since Jan 2021 I’ve had a weekly recurring call with my best pal. We only see each other once per month on average, less when I travel but I feel immensely close to him. Thanks for helping us think pal. Keep on writing.
Deeply moving and reflective as usual ♥️
Love this piece so much Tommy! Even smiled at how you wrapped up this little mind journey. :)
An essay that causes my own form of reflection.
Thank you for the gem, Tommy.
I hope you thoroughly enjoyed every moment of being in Austin - I'm certain you did.
Something about your writing is blossoming really delicately: The fault lines of your hands. The garage sale analogy. The tattoo metaphor.
And as always, you leave me in contemplation. Much love to you, brother.
“Nothing lasts, I suppose. Like a neighborhood garage sale. Everything. Must. Go”
I think about this a lot. Everything we believe to be ‘ours’ or belong to us, we will someday lose. And if we don’t lose it, it will lose us. It’s difficult to process, but I think it helps to remind ourselves that ‘things’ aren’t really the problem, it’s just our attachment to them that makes life difficult.
As gloomy as this sounds, I think there’s also comfort to be found in the fact that we can come to understand the true nature of our reality through practices such as vipassana. Not from outside in, but the inside out. When we look closely enough we see that this separate self is nothing more a narrative constructed by the ego, probably having evolved as a survival mechanism. It is, however, just an illusion. This is where the hope lies. There has to be a self to be suffering. No self, no suffering. Realising this from within is a lifetimes work, though.
I never write comments about his long, but your posts do warrant such lengthy responses.
Another great piece.
great essay Tommy. im also back on the waking up app and am wondering why i ever left! did 15 mins a day everyday this month which has helped me (slightly) regain my sanity. hope its helping you too!
The two sentences that stood out. I felt them. Touching poetry. Great piece Tommy!
"Friendly with strangers, estranged from friends. A carousel of faces. Everyone just passing through."
"A reminder of what once was. Of what I could have had if I stayed. "
Loved this piece of writing Tommy. Well done!👏✍️