The Greek philosopher Heraclitus said: “you can’t step into the same river twice.” Although numerically this statement is generally not true, qualitatively we don’t experience the “same” situation or person as we have before. Our confusion with this statement can be found in the word: “same.” It does seem to our minds that we are meeting the same person, or experiencing the same experience as we have before, when we again meet a friend, or reproduce an act multiple times. We do like the sense that the world and ourselves can be controlled and fixed for purposes of maintaining predictability and order. For most of us, this seems to offer us the confirmation of the solidness, or permanence of certain experiences. We like the idea of solid and permanence because they lull us into an interpretation of our lives that suggets a certain standard of safety can be built and maintained. What shakes us is when we encounter a shift in the quality with others, situations, or in ourselves. Likewise, what hurts us is when we are inflexible with our interpretations of others, situations, or even of ourselves that sees us as qualitatively static.

I have to admit that I personally have been guilty of being attracted to this way of thinking and living. The dogma of my life seemed to create a warm nest that offered not only comfort, but also safety. I have too many times locked others, situations or even my ownself into hardened ideas, or labels that created a blindness to deeper and more profound truth of each. My growth, as well as the impermanence of others was not seen because it disrupted the dillusional idea that I could control my experiences. What I thought created safety and strength had the converse effect. The more profound reality was that I was not in a nest that offered the freedom of flight, but a cacoon that imprisoned me, and sought to do the same to others.

The insidious addiction to this false security scarred far too many days and people in my life. I wish that I could go back and reshape the past, but I now know that my past and present are deeply improved by staying alert to impermanence, and the discontinuance of trying to solidify myself and those around me. My longtime hold onto myself as I had constructed myself to be, inhibited me from being open and receptive to the new that was available each moment. When I stopped being obsessed with what I thought was me, mine, or who I thought myself to be, I became awake to the truth that there is no me worth protecting if I lose presence with the “now” and authentic contact with others. I learned that taking “hills” isn’t worth doing if it means that I no longer see the deeper truth of what is emerging every moment.