This morning my son presented me with a drawing and the first thought in my mind was; "Dear God, please slow time down." And then, I recalled an experience I had while in college.
One year a group of Tibetan Monks came to visit our campus for a few days. Several of the monks worked for hours each day creating a very beautiful, very large & very intricate sand medallion on the floor of the lobby of the building I worked in. I walked past it every day on my way into work, and again on my way home. Each time marveling at its beauty. And each day it grew more and more beautiful.
Finally, when it was finished, the university heads and a few students gathered around for a small ceremony. We marveled at the completed sand medallion's beauty, discussed how amazing it was, and wondered how the monks would transport it to its permanent location.
One of the monks stepped to the front of the group and gave a short speech thanking us for our hospitality and explaining the history of the design. He then said it would be left as a gift for the university and instructed the other monks to prepare the medallion for transport. I was sure, at this point, that they would employ some mystical eastern means to keep the medallion intact, but I was quickly proven wrong. Three of the other monks stepped out, one with a broom, one with a dustpan, and one with a glass jar.
They then began to sweep the sand into a pile and place the grains into the glass jar.
The first monk continued his speech. This was, he explained, a representation of the nature of beauty. Just because the physical art was gone didn't mean that we had never experienced its beauty. And holding onto it would not make it any more beautiful. In fact, holding onto it would make it a burden, as the entire lobby would have to remain roped off indefinitely. Just as holding onto anything beyond its time creates a burden in our lives. The monks left us with the gift of the experience of beauty, which is all we ever have anyhow, and the lesson that:
Everything is beautiful in it's own time, and in time everything is beautiful.
Holding onto past experiences, no matter how wonderful, can sometimes prevent us from seeing the beauty in the present moment. Instead, we should take every moment for what it is worth, beautiful in its own right, and then let it go so that we may receive the beauty of the next moment in full.
After remembering this I looked at my son's picture again. The picture was amazing. My child had gone, in four short years, from a helpless infant to a creative young boy. Sure, I enjoyed him then, but why shouldn't I enjoy him now too? Why waste my time as a parent of a four year old pining for my time as a parent of a 1 month old when, in truth, these moments are equally beautiful.
Namaste,
Ani
