Time passes

Autumn always focuses my mind on the passing of time. I really enjoy reading poetic and lyrical words about the ephemeral wonders of the season, and observing the changes in the hedgerows and woods. How easy it is at this time of year to watch each moment passing with each leaf that falls. It can all be very Zen.

The Japanese particularly appreciate the ephemeral nature of the changing seasons, and are renowned for staring in wonder at an autumn leaf, and getting drunk under ethereal cherry blossoms. I shall enjoy visiting temples and gardens in Kyoto this November, when the maples are in full colour (it was tantalisingly late the last time I went)

One of the three marks of all conditioned phenomena, according to Buddhism, is that of change. Everything is subject to change – the cycle of birth, decay and death – from the shallowest breath to the largest galaxy. Acceptance of this seems to enable the Japanese to appreciate seasonal things; special foods are celebrated for their short time, whereas in the UK we expect strawberries all year round.

The other lunch time, my stroll took me past the local undertakers. There, propped up against the wall obviously ready to go out with the next job, was a small headstone. “Winifred Smith. Home at last.” How sad for poor Winifred. I hoped she hadn’t spent her whole life wishing she were Home i.e. presumably dead or in heaven (Unless of course she was an ex-pat and her mortal remains were returning to Dorset)

How much more efficient and productive of happiness it is to appreciate each moment, and not wish it away – or just suffer being Not Home. It is an effort of will, but we can take each circumstance and look for the best in it. My optimism tries to discover some beauty – just one seed of hope and nurture it and help it bloom. Another step in the circling cycle.