It's only temporary.

 

 

I decided to start a journal that's separate from my photography, just for the purpose of shoveling out some of these words that rattle around in my head when I should be sleeping at night. (two of which I chose to be the title of this new endeavor: temporary insomnia.)

 

There's something simultaneously reassuring, and terrifying, about the concept of impermanence. Realizing that nothing lasts forever can be great when you can't fall asleep, or when life isn't going your way; hey, chances are it'll turn around. It will, or you'll find a way to adapt and then it won't seem so bad. Or, of course, there's a chance that it WON'T get better, but if that's the case....well....you're still going to die someday. 

 

It's hard to even write that. Because that's the flip side of the coin isn't it? What about when life is really good? Suddenly the thought that it's finite, that time moves relentlessly forward toward the end of all things.... It doesn't sound as comforting.

 

Isn't it kind of amazing that we start things anyway? 

 

We know the flowers will bloom for a season and then die, but we plant them anyway. We adopt a puppy, knowing full well we've just signed ourselves up for heartbreak in 10 or 15 years when the dog grows old and falls apart. We carry that knowledge and sadness with us but....we accept it, all for the joy of a wet nose and a wagging tail.

 

We open our hearts to strangers that we know we may never see again.

 

We allow our lives to intertwine so deeply and profoundly with the lives of others that when they die, we feel shattered. The pain is unbearable. 

 

Yet we do bear it. And we risk that pain again and again, without the slightest hesitation. Why?

 

In this case, the obvious answer is the correct one. The only answer, the only thing that seems immune to this rule of impermanence.... is love.(It's a shame how abused and mistreated that word has become, but it's the one we are stuck with.)

  

Love doesn't always last, of course. But when it's strong enough, it can survive unchanged, undiminished, undamaged, even when the ones we love are no longer with us. 

 

Love is the reason we build, learn, and communicate. It's why we move forward in life, despite the almost universal terror we have of facing our lives' end. It's what makes everything, anything worth doing. 

 

And maybe there's something futile about starting a blog that I know I'll eventually abandon, but that's kind of the beauty of it. It already has a beginning and an end. All that's left for me is to fill in the middle.