Impermenence & Letting Go
August 27, 2012 
If there’s one certainty in life, say the Buddhist teachings, things change…always…and at some point. Pema Chodrin says the “teachings (of impermanence) encourage us to relax gradually and wholeheartedly into the ordinary obvious truth of change.”
This teaching has been on my radar for, consciously, the past six or so years as I’ve said good-bye to my mom and my dad and my job. But, I’ve said hello to a beautiful, healthy relationship, a new job where I’m appreciated and “seen”, and most importantly, and I believe this informs every other aspect of my life, hello to a creative life with writing and photography that was simply waiting for me to open the door.
I’ve said good-bye to my twenty-five year old, who tripped and fell a few times and now is living with “the love of his life”. Good-bye to a monthly menstrual cycle that put me to my knees on more than many occasions; hello (and almost) good-bye to hot flashes, memory loss and emotional swings that made PMS look like a cake walk.
And the good-bye I’m walking down the street hand in hand with now is the letting go of my youngest son Ian, now 17. He’ll be 18 next February. I adore him…what can I say? From the moment I helped him up to the surface of the water in a small kiddie pool that we somehow fit into our bedroom back in 1995 after 3 hours of very intense labor. ( I had called the midwife around 9pm and she said, “oh don’t worry, you’ve got time, I’ll be there for you. When you get in the nice warm water, the contractions will slow down). Ha-ha, Ian was born two and a half hours later sans midwife.
No one can ever tell you or describe for you the level at which you can love your own child. I’m starting to understand, that for me, that feeling of love is so big there isn’t a container large enough to hold it…and anyway, why would I?
Ian was such an easy baby and then I got divorced and he went to school and he met the world head on, who told him in no uncertain terms that if you are different, the world will challenge you every step of the way. And yet, through it all he has remained completely true to himself. I’ve often described him as a young man who walks to the beat of his own drum. And well, I suppose I raised him this way… wanting to be free and not be told by anyone what to do (you’re not the boss of me)…um…eh hem….I have to admit that is a part of his genetic makeup…indeed.
This is his last year living at home. Every moment I have with him I record as the “possible last” something I will do with him; holding his head after he had his wisdom teeth extracted a few months ago, letting me take care of him. Listening to him as he shares his realization that death happens to us all after witnessing one of his best friend’s crack his head open from skate boarding. And today…today he asked me to give him this very sophisticated haircut…way beyond my abilities as house hair cutter. But, somehow, miraculously, with him showing me several pictures for examples, it turned out smashing; another “possible last” moment.
When Ian smiles it makes my heart sing. He let me take his picture today, something he NEVER lets me do. A letting go that I understand will take a lifetime.
And so Pema says about impermanence, “…What it means is that we begin to understand that we’re not the only one who can’t keep it all together. We no longer believe that there are people who have managed to avoid uncertainty.
Pema Chodrin, ageing, impermenence
Reader Comments (22)
Oh..Mary. Your post made me cry! Just a few years and a few steps ahead of you (after returning home after college...my youngest moved out and into her own early this summer) - I understand the power of letting go..and of a mother's never-ending...bottomless love.
Enjoy every last minute of this last year!!!
Your ode to love has touched me to the core. Thank you.
Lovely, lovely post. You touched this mother's heart.
My son, who also walked to the beat of a different drummer, taught me so much about accepting people for who they are. I relived our journey through nearly every word of your post, Mary. Enjoy every minute of this year.
Oh my, can I relate..you sound as though you're ready and able to be flexible, mindful and content with these life altering changes, challenges and opportunities. Very cool haircut;)
What a beautiful tribute to being a mom, to loving your children, and to letting go.
This reaches every mother's heart. It's so sweet and so touching and what a fine son and yes - no container can hold our love for our children, can it? This time of life is so filled with change. I suppose every time is - but these changes feel so profound. Your thoughts resonated with me so deeply this morning.
And......fantastic cut on Ian - no wonder he let you capture the image!
Beautiful words ~ Beautiful boy
Thank you for this beautiful post. I, too, am a mother who counted the "last time" with three children and then had to let them go. The bittersweet action of letting our children become adults leaves use undeniably changed. It makes all the other changes dim. Now, I have three granddaughters. I took the oldest out for brunch before she began kindergarten a few weeks ago, and I realized that I'm still counting the "lasts." It would be my last meal with her before she joined her peers and was changed by her experience. I can certainly see the up-side of all these lasts, but in the moment, I tend to feel them as "probably the last time." Your post made me very aware of this part of who I am, and I think it makes us better observers of life and the process of letting go.
What an amazingly true and real and honest treatise on letting go. Enjoy every moment of this final year.
What a beautiful and touching post!
i see that i am late to the comment party. "letting go" seems to be....well...at all of our ages, part of daily life in one form or another. we all share the experience, but to each of us, it is unique. every day feels this way to me. give, take, loss, gain...i am sure it was always this way...i just notice the changes more.
thanks for writing about your experiences that created the springboard to share.
I bet by now Ian knows he has made the day for a lot of women, Mary. HA! I love it for him and for you, daring to be "out there" for all of us to see...and identify with. I LOVE IT! Bravo.
Thank you all for your beautiful responses...you made me cry!
And thanks for not pointing out that I spelled impermanence incorrectly in the title and the tag!! haha...blessings all!
More tears here, and yet such delight in finding this site and connecting with you wonderful women! First Marcie who is my teacher and guide, but only virtually, I don't think she knows that yet!!! Now Mary too. As I sit at my desk here in an Irish wilderness, I reflect on my own uncontainable love for my three boys who now roam a much bigger world. Like many Irish young people they are travelling and searching. Thank you Mary, my newest teacher, for opening your heart and then mine.....
My blog post today references Pema also. However in my post I'm waiting for something good to occur, like the kind of job you mention - where I'm seen (oh to have human interaction and teamwork). That when this happens I will be lifted up and reenergized but then having to gently remind myself to stop waiting and live now.
This is wonderfully written and appreciated by one of those who hasn't avoided uncertainty. Great photo too. We may let them go but they remain so much in our heart and mind.
How brave you are, Mary. I understand the theory of all of it yet I can see myself struggling especially in regards to letting the children fly on their own.
Thank you showing us the way of least resistance. Who knows by the time Darling Daughter is ready, I might even be ready too :-)
Oh Mary, I too just let go of my own son Ian, who turned 18 on the day we left him at school last week. That we have so in common! Your son is very handsome and we are both so very blessed to have them in our lives!
Lovely post. I think the impermanence helps us grow.
I can feel your deep love in this post. It's a bit bittersweet - and I think this kind of bittersweetness is always with us as we see our children grow up and finally leave the home. I still have four more years with my daughter - and I know they will be gone in a heartbeat. I love this post, Mary, it is tremendously beautiful/
oh my, tears in my eyes. yes, we are always changing, everything around us changes. the best we can do is enjoy the moments of bliss we are given, and you've done such a beautiful job of describing one here.
I attended a burial today and these thoughts resonate with my late night mood. Sad and Happy can be so similar, in a funny way.