Why must so much of all that is is given, be taken away, before we ourselves are taken away?
Living in the continual flux of ever changing scenes, people and places imparts the imprint of impermanence upon the consciousness on the pilgrim. I share in the salomonic insight of the impermanence of all things under the sun.
I awake to the first phrase above after a dream where I witnessed my almost ninety year old grandmother say farewell to a old, broken down stranger at the porch of a made up house. The impact of the insight it creates might lead to soul-paralysis. But I shall keep in mind that advice of the old ones, to hold fresh experiences gently as they might then grow into butterflies instead of thorns.
All things under the sun shall pass away.
Without the dislodging of my soul from the cocoon of self made safety of ordinary life, I would have had to wait for the tragic instead of a dream to meet impermanence and embrace her like a sister and friend.