The Beauty of Impermanence

The current state of my balcony

Each season, we seek and purchase the impermanent: tulips in spring, hydrangeas in summer, mums in fall, pansies in winter. We relish blooming trees, falling leaves, pumpkins on porches, holly draping windows. We know these things will vanish, that we will have to toss them aside. But we want them anyway.

Every December of my childhood, I watched my dad bring the Christmas tree into the living room through wide eyes, full of joy and wonder. I decorated the tree with such care, fully immersed in the experience, as though nothing else mattered and the holiday would never end.

It always did. My eyes would fill with tears as I watched my dad carry the tree, dry and starting to brown, to the curb, where it would lay, still and cold and somber.

But this process would repeat year after year, and I was a willing participant. I knew what would inevitably happen after the New Year. I celebrated with gusto even so, because it was transient, and I didn’t want to miss a thing.

To have something that lives and breathes in your home can feel refreshing and sweet – perhaps flowers from a loved one. It can be emotional and melancholy – a consolation arrangement. Or joyful and nostalgic, like a Christmas tree.

The potted plant, the tree, the bouquet – these bring real feelings into our homes. They never last, but they are welcome and enjoyable for a time.

The things in life that seem sweetest are often fleeting. And they are beautiful because of their impermanence.

What beautiful, impermanent things have you welcomed into your home lately? Tell me about it in the comments.

Love, Bee