Talking, thinking, and feeling the impermanence of life has become something I return to often. Once you realize how fleeting and insignificant we can seem in the vastness of time, you also begin to understand how meaningful and eternal we are in our own way. It feels contradictory, doesn't it? But there’s a quiet truth in that paradox.

We exist in this world as though our time here were infinite, weaving illusions of permanence into every corner of our lives. We cling to the belief that there will always be more time. More time to love, to create, to achieve, to make things right. And yet, everything around us is ephemeral.

We are ephemeral. Our lives pass quickly, as delicate as morning light dissolving into day. The things we hold onto: our possessions, our routines, our roles. And we tend to forget that all of these fade, break, or disappear. Even the relationships we pour ourselves into are not immune to distance, transformation, or time.

Our beliefs shift. What once felt certain begins to evolve as life unfolds. The emotions that move us so deeply come and go like waves, never staying quite the same. And still, we keep acting as if permanence were something we could hold.

We build as if what we create will last forever. We try to control what was never ours to fix. We hold on, forgetting that letting go is also a part of being alive. But maybe it’s this very transience that makes life meaningful.

Maybe it is because things don’t last that they carry so much weight. Maybe beauty lives in the moment before it disappears. The awareness that everything could end is what teaches us to love harder, to pay attention, to give meaning not in spite of impermanence, but because of it.