The Impermanence of Everything.

Blair’s lovingly made mug. An experience of impermanence, and a reminder that nothing lasts forever.

A potter friend of mine made me a set of mugs; the first time I’d commissioned anything and one of her first times accepting a commission. Recently I caught the handle on the cupboard and it smashed. It’s irreparable.

My first thought was not actually of the mug, but of how sad it was that her hard work - her piece of art - had been destroyed. By my carelessness. Of course, the mug was always temporary. Unless very, very delicately looked after - preserved, even - it was always at risk of being chipped, cracked, or smashed.

But it’s awakening when we realise that this is all temporary.

Everything. All of it.

Even the best parts that we love dearly, and replay in our memory again and again. Especially the best bits, in fact.

We have just so many years here to know human love; the do human things; to know a connection with animals; - and know that same connection with nature.All of that, too, will not last. It’s all an experience.

The meaning of life is to experience life.

The insecurity? Experience. The heartache? Experience. The confuson? Experience.The Joy? Experience.

However, here’s the magic. The magic of life. Nothing is lost if we learn something from it. The lessons my Grandma taught me; the love for people, and life, and tea, and cake - all experiences I shared with her, and learnt from her. That experience lives on becuase I learnt something from it.

Our willingness to fail is proportionate to our potential to gain, and to grow. And that’s so, so important for us to keep right at the very front of our mind, not to let it consume us, but to remember that the sand timer is constantly running. It doesn’t stop. All we will regret is not reaching harder for the things we actually wanted, while they were still in front of us. For grieving of the person we dreamed of being, but never grew into.

When I hold a handmade piece of pottery, I feel all of that bound up in the fragility of the very thing I must not drop, or catch on the side of the cupboard, but experience. Deeply. It’s not just a mug; it’s a wonderful metaphor for life.