Here’s the thing about impermanence: it’s not just some mystical, far-out Buddhist buzzword. It’s the naked truth, the pulsing heartbeat of reality that we all live with but try desperately to ignore. Everything—your job, your money, your body, your relationships, even that smug sense of self you cling to—is doomed to change.
Yeah, it sounds brutal. But stick with me—impermanence is also what makes life so jaw-droppingly beautiful. If you really lean into it, this understanding can be your backstage pass to living with more freedom, more guts, and a hell of a lot less anxiety.
What the Hell is Impermanence?
Impermanence, or anicca, is Buddhism’s way of saying, “Hey, nothing lasts forever, and that’s okay.” Your shiny new car? It’ll get a scratch. That picture-perfect relationship? It’ll have its cracks—or maybe blow up entirely. Even your most cherished moments of joy will fade into the ether.
But here’s the kicker: it’s all supposed to. Life is a freakshow of constant motion—nothing stays still. And when you finally get this through your thick skull, you stop clinging to stuff that was never yours to keep anyway. You stop whining when the ride changes gears because you know it’s all part of the deal.
Why Should You Care?
Picture this: You’re gripping onto a handful of sand at the beach, trying to keep every grain. But the tighter you squeeze, the faster it slips through your fingers. That’s life. You cling to your youth, your job, your perfect image, and then—bam!—the universe reminds you who’s boss.
But if you loosen your grip, suddenly it’s different. You can actually enjoy the sand for what it is before the tide inevitably sweeps it away.
Think about the last time you were totally there. Maybe it was watching the sunset paint the sky like some surrealist acid trip, or hearing your kid laugh uncontrollably at something stupid. Those moments hit differently when you realize they’re fleeting. Impermanence forces you to suck the marrow out of life because you know it won’t last.
Contrast that with scrolling Instagram or TikTok while your life burns away like a cheap candle. Wake up! This moment—this exact one you’re in right now—is the only thing guaranteed.
Life will kick you in the teeth—it’s not a matter of if, but when. But when you embrace impermanence, you stop taking the punches so personally. You roll with it. Breakup? Alright, it hurts, but it’s not forever. Lost your job? Sucks, but something else will come along. Even the crappiest situations are temporary, and that knowledge gives you a kind of bulletproof swagger.
Impermanence in Real Life
Let’s start small. You’re holding your morning coffee—a perfect, steaming cup of liquid gold. It’s delicious, it’s warming your soul, and before you know it, it’s gone. Do you rage against the empty cup? Do you cry about how unfair life is? No. You savor that coffee while it lasts, knowing its disappearance was part of the plan all along.
Now let’s turn up the heat. Remember your first love? The one you were sure would last forever? Yeah, how’d that turn out? For most of us, it ended in heartbreak. But here’s the thing—those moments of love, passion, and even the gut-wrenching pain were all part of the deal. Without impermanence, love would lose its urgency, its rawness. The fact that it ends is what makes it so powerful.
Or, you’re stuck in traffic. The guy in front of you is picking his nose, the car behind you is blaring bad techno, and you’re ready to lose it. But then you think: this moment is already on its way out. The cars will move. The frustration will fade. Even this absurd little slice of hell is temporary. Suddenly, you’re not raging anymore—you’re just watching the freakshow unfold.
How to Live Like You Mean It
Every time you try to freeze time, you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak. That perfect vacation? It’s gonna end. That new gadget? It’ll get outdated. Enjoy it fully while it lasts, then let it go like a badass.
Change isn’t the enemy—it’s the whole damn game. You lose a job, you start a new one. You say goodbye to an old friend, you meet someone new. Impermanence doesn’t destroy life; it creates it.
If nothing lasts, you might as well laugh about it. Spilled coffee? It’s already gone. Awkward breakup text? A blip in the cosmic timeline. Find the humor in life’s chaos—Buddha would approve.
The Ultimate Takeaway
Impermanence isn’t here to wreck your day—it’s here to free you. It’s a reminder to stop clinging, to stop fearing change, and to live in the raw, unfiltered now. The beauty of life isn’t in its permanence but in its fleeting, kaleidoscopic nature.
So, the next time you’re sipping your coffee, stuck in traffic, or crying over a breakup, just remember: this, too, shall pass. And that’s the whole damn point.
Now go out there and ride the wave, because the freakshow won’t last forever. And thank Buddha for that.
Listen to a Deep Dive podcast based on this post.
Buddha, a historic person, is a symbol of wisdom. Many other wise teachers have spoken or written through the ages. Bret Primack's wisdom makes great sense, and is written in a colloquial vein that I like. Another I like is that of Richard Rohr, who has written of The Wisdom Pattern. It says that you get a choice of what do do when change hurts you. (Why fuss if the change pleases you?) The Rohr schema is "Order-Disorder-Reorder." This means a bad change from satisfactory stability down into chaos or disappointment and then--not back to the old ways. but--forward or upward to a different and better, wiser, more realistic way. It includes recognizing that you need to lose or shed some things that made you comfortable or happy in the past. You can do without them now. Maybe you also learn that depending too much on yourself can deprive of some beneficial human company. You discover that travelling lighter, living more simply, even humbly, you're not golden any more but you're OK with whatever works. You get a sense of having learned wisdom.