Non-permanance

Events of recent weeks have brought the idea of permanance, or lack thereof, to mind (and heart).

Just over 3 years ago, I was intensely mourning the loss of a permanance I assumed I had, permanance that I'd spent a lifetime preparing for, confident I wouldn't settle for less than what I deserved. Turns out, I deserved far more than that.

Upon reflection, I realise I had known deep down that I would be settling if I'd gone with that permanant state as it was. Questions of what-if and what-else-out-there had been softly flitting through my head, and I silenced them. I believed what it had was precious enough to supercede any possible doubts I had. And as that turned out, it wasn't I who had the doubts, in the end.

Towards the end of that episode 3 years ago, the one who will remained unnamed said, someone told him that if you don't get married within the first two or three years of the relationship, it gets really hard.

What if he'd popped the question early, before the spot appeared and festered in his heart? What if I'd said yes, as I was likely to have?

The more I think about it, the luckier I feel right now.

It was the loss of this permanence that solidified my awareness of what I truly wanted.

But back to events relating non-permanence of recent weeks.

Trust was broken for someone rather close to me, and a beefy person out there is on probation while they see if there is some glue out there that could possibly mend something so thoroughly shattered.

And then there's another entity infinitely closer that has a definite but undefined conclusion. But sometimes, non-permanance is not a bad thing at all.

Acknowledging that non-permanent nature brought the gladness that comes with meeting someone at a crossroad, glad to have arrived at the same point at the right time. Knowing there's so much to love and enjoy within a finite time brings a richness in each others' company, and a strong desire to embrace each moment.

Sometimes, non-permanence teaches you things, and makes you cherish the present so much more. It can bring you closure. It can undo a knot inside you. It can release you.

Some say it leaves emptiness behind after it's done breaking you. I say it's empty only if you tip all the contents out and don't learn a thing. It breaks you only if you let it.

Here's to every moment, my dear.