Reflections on Impermanence

by Elizabeth Venart

The only constant in life is change. It is a well-known saying — and undeniably true.

As the last of the crimson and yellow leaves cling to their branches, awaiting descent and decay, I find myself reflecting on the universal experience of impermanence. It seems we are always in the midst of one season or cycle transitioning into the next. 

We know the yearly rhythm, how we move in a predictable path through the seasons of heat and cold, light and darkness. At the same time, on a given day or week, the change may surprise us. It may feel sudden or abrupt to us, no matter the date on the calendar. While every year has the same number of days, sometimes we experience time — and the shifting of the seasons — as if it is racing by. Summer flew by so fast! How is it already September? Or . . .  Didn’t the school year start yesterday? December came so fast! We may lament the end of a season, wishing it could last. Personally, I feel this way every autumn. I adore the fall foliage, the brilliant yellow, red, bronze, and orange, the tapestry of color in forests and hillsides. While I know the season itself will come again, I never know exactly how it will be — or how I will be or life will be— when it does. 

Known as the first principle in Buddhist philosophy, the Law of Impermanence teaches that all of life is perpetually in flux. Our sensory experiences (all we see, hear, touch, taste, and smell) convince us that everything is solid, steady, and reliable. As a result, our minds create a worldview that assumes permanence. However, the fundamental truth about nature is that everything is undergoing constant change. Our attachment to the illusion of permanence is seen as a primary cause of distress and suffering.

Can we accept and make peace with the inevitability of change and impermanence? The average person in our country will have three to seven careers in their lifetime — and twelve different jobs. Our work often evolves over time, sometimes surprising us with what pulls our attention and where we lose interest. Relationships change, with people growing closer or drawing further apart. Children grow older, leave the nest, embark on adventures, create their own meaning for their lives. As older generations pass, the next generation steps forward into the role of elder. Even our bodies are in a constant state of flux, beyond the obvious ways like injury, pregnancy, illness, and aging — but in all the tiniest ways; our bodies contain over 30 trillion cells, and about 330 billion cells replace themselves every day. In 80-100 days, 30 trillion cells are replenished.

Amidst all this change, we may long for the constant, the stable, the predictable, and the known. However, our attachment to things remaining the same is often the source of our discomfort, distress, and heartbreak. If, instead, we can accept impermanence — deeply understanding the transient nature of thoughts, feelings, experiences, and life itself — then we can fully appreciate the beauty of the present moment.

Knowing that nothing lasts can help us appreciate our time with those we love, moments of laughter and joy, awe, authenticity, connection. It can wake us from the dream of “always and forever” that may drive a mindless preoccupation with thoughts and things, achievement and reward. It can awaken us to the mystery, the ever-unfolding dance of being alive. When we don’t need things to be a certain way, we can open to things as they are. The beauty of a sunset, surrendering daylight into darkness. Sunrise in the morning, welcoming light’s return. The radiant smiles of couple exchanging vows. The tenderness of steadfast love at the bedside of the dying. Life is unpredictable. Open and present, here and now, unattached to how things should be, we may begin to experience a greater sense of calm with the unknown that awaits. 

As we enter the season of winter, perhaps we can welcome this time of darkness and quiet to contemplate the teachings on impermanence. Rather than racing to the finish line of another calendar year completed, we can be present. We can slow down, build a fire or light a candle, prioritize connection and coziness, savor the sweetness of a starlit night, and appreciate the gift of being alive.

Elizabeth Venart, LPC, is the Founder and Director of The Resiliency Center of Greater Philadelphia. She specializes in supporting Highly Sensitive People (including other therapists and healers) to embrace their gifts and develop deeper self-trust. A Certified EMDR Therapist, Certified IFS Therapist, and EMDRIA-Approved Consultant, she leads trainings through the Syzygy Institute on the powerful integration of IFS and EMDR therapies for trauma resolution. She loves spiritual and nature-based poetry (Rumi, Hafiz, Mary Oliver, Joy Harjo, John O’Donohue) and leads a free monthly poetry evening. She also leads a weekly laughter yoga class, to encourage more joy and connection. To learn more, visit her website.

Play as Preventative Care At Any Age

by Vanessa Mortillo, LPC

    “The opposite of play is not work—it’s depression.” — Brian Sutton Smith

As a play therapist, I support young people through anxieties and hardships. Using their natural language of play, we act out struggles and work through them in the present moment.  Play offers a unique way of processing difficult feelings in the presence of a connected adult.  What surprised me the most about my work is that even in the midst of darkness and trauma, joy can and does enter the play.  One minute I am defending myself in an angry play sword-fight and next moment I am bouncing a balloon. Through the magic of play, I can travel between levity and heaviness with my clients, and we weave more light in as we go. Children often do this naturally, but adults can do this too.
Relearning this skill through my training as a play therapist has changed my life as an adult. Once very serious and intellectual, I now have more balance. I have gained the confidence to be ridiculous, silly, and to let go. I make sand castles regularly, I dance and wear costumes. I am less afraid to play in front of others.  I laugh more and feel closer to those that I play with. In the midst of hard things, I remember that play is available at any moment. 

This phenomenon has been beautifully described by play expert Stuart Brown, “Those who play rarely become brittle in the face of stress or lose the healing capacity for humor.”  Dr. Brown became passionate about play when he studied mass murderers and found that most had been severely deprived of opportunities for play in early childhood and beyond. He calls this scenario a play deficit. While these represent the most extreme cases, his continued research on play found that playing regularly leads to more spontaneity, creativity, resilience, hope, and social connection for people of all ages. Dr. Brown also found this to be true in the animal kingdom as many social species play throughout the lifespan.

Kevin Carroll, Philadelphia native, former athletic coach for the 76ers, author and motivational speaker, cites his access to play as a child as transformational. In childhood, he had access to few resources and was adopted by grandparents due to his parents suffering from addiction. The playground and a red rubber ball changed his life. He has gone on to help organizations reignite creativity and inspire adults to play. At Tedx Harlem, he invited adults to formally resign from adulthood for a few moments.
“Here are my checkbook, my car keys, my credit card, my bills, my 401k statement. Because you know what? You’ll have to catch me first!  Because tag! You’re it!” I’d like to tag you into the magic of play by inviting you to join in.
 
Join us at the Resiliency Center for a workshop. From laughter yoga, movement, writing workshops, or our new Fun Therapy Happy Hour, we offer something for all types of players. Check out the helpful links and books below for a plethora of ideas of ways to play in every day life. 

Vanessa Mortillo MA, LPC is a Licensed Professional Counselor that provides individual and group therapy to youth and young adults. Utilizing mindfulness, expressive arts, and play therapy modalities, she harnesses creativity and imagination in the service of growth and healing. Specialties include children and teens, mindfulness groups, play therapy, and expressive arts. Contact her at (267) 507-5793 or vanessamortilloepcs@gmail.com.

Open-Heartedness in a Time of Heartbreak

by Elizabeth Venart

Facing my blank computer screen on March 7, 2022, I struggle to find words to adequately express my heartbreak at the devastation in Ukraine. I watch news reports of Russia violently invading, bombing buildings, destroying homes and neighborhoods, and sending millions of Ukrainian citizens fleeing their homeland. I watch footage of thousands escaping on foot and by train, with only a small backpack of possessions remaining from the life they cherished. I see the courage of those who stay, those who fight back, the leader who, despite the world’s estimation that he has only a fraction of the military resources of his attacker, stands up and demands his voice be heard and boundaries honored. I am awed too by the bravery of citizens in Russia who oppose their government’s actions, facing arrest, prison sentences of fifteen years, and worse.

As I watch news coverage from the comfort of my home, in my peaceful neighborhood, in a town free of explosions and terror, I am aware of my privilege. I recognize that we may be sitting on the precipice of a World War in which peace anywhere is potentially under threat. I also recognize that is not my experience in this moment. In this moment, I have the luxury of a relaxed in-breath and out-breath, the presence of my family members and pets, and the ability to reach loved ones over the phone and know they are safe. I can drive and travel unencumbered, and I know where I will rest my head to sleep at day’s end. I am acutely aware of these gifts of home and safety and peace – and sense more deeply the need not to take them for granted.  

Keeping our eyes and hearts open, our compassion intact can be some of the hardest work. Sometimes the cruelty and suffering we witness is so intense we may feel overtaken by anger and thoughts of vengeance. Or we may feel frozen in response to it. We may numb out, avoid the news, and avoid conversations for fear of hearing more news. We may become consumed in something rather mindless, like playing Wordle, Quordle, and Octordle (my favorite three distractions these days). We may tune out, shut down, pretend nothing is happening. It is natural to feel a whole host of emotions in response to suffering. It is also natural to experience these emotions in waves, rising and falling in our consciousness. 

It is painful to stand back and do nothing when our hearts feel the pull to help. If my nextdoor neighbor is struggling or has experienced a loss, I can sit with them. I can make a casserole. I can mow their lawn or clear the snow off their car. I want to help, to act, to do. But what can we do when the ones suffering are a continent away?

On a pragmatic level, there are some things we can do. We can participate in social and political activism – putting pressure on elected officials and corporations to impose sanctions and take actions that might have a positive impact. We can also make donations in support of humanitarian assistance in Ukraine. These actions do matter. (Resource links for sending aid to Ukraine appear later in the newsletter.)

Rather than succumb to a sense of futility about making a difference, we may seek an outlet for that inhibited desire. Maybe we organize a local food drive to help the homeless in our own community or volunteer for the Red Cross. Or maybe we channel that energy into training for a marathon, planning a family reunion, reconnecting with old friends. . . finding something we can do.

These are tumultuous times. Times of change, upheaval, fear, courage, heroism, and transformation. Many of us are only slowly re-emerging from a time of prolonged isolation. Connection is good for our souls. It provides a pathway through times of anguish. Invite opportunities for laughter among friends, meaningful conversation, sharing hugs and meals, reigniting our sense of community after two years of time apart. We can bolster one another.

In 1973, E.B. White responded to a despairing reader with the following letter of hope. While written in the context of that moment in history, the message's timeless and brought me some comfort. I hope his words will resonate with you as well.

As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.

Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say, the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society — things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed, sometimes rather suddenly. It is quite obvious that the human race has made a queer mess of life on this planet. But as a people we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. Man’s curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out. Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.”

Elizabeth Venart is the Founder and the Director of The Resiliency Center and a Licensed Professional Counselor whose practice focuses on supporting Highly Sensitive Persons and other therapists (through counseling, clinical consultation and training). Her counseling and consulting work integrates EMDR Therapy and IFS to help people heal past trauma and experience transformational change. Her free offerings include  a weekly laughter yoga class, a monthly Rumi and Friends Spiritual Poetry Evening, and a monthly gathering for EMDR Therapists in the Greater Philadelphia area. To learn more, visit her website.

Letting Go

by Trudy Gregson, MS, LPC

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. When I let go of what I have, I receive what I need.” - Tao Te Ching

Who hasn't struggled with letting go at one time or another? Cleaning out a closet and letting go of old favorites that don’t fit or aren’t your style anymore. Letting go of expectations - yours or someone else’s - to be the parent, partner, friend, daughter or son you’re “supposed” to be. Or letting go of a wish that something outside of your control can be different.  Maybe you’ve noticed it as feeling “stuck”, or perhaps it’s a little voice in the back of your head, or a good friend advising, “Let it go.” We know we should, so why is it so hard?

           

There are as many reasons why it’s hard as there are reasons for letting go: fear of judgment or regret, fear of failure, fear of the unknown, to name a few. Holding on can feel safe and familiar, while the notion of letting go may be fraught with fear or anxiety. It can feel like a tug-of-war as we weigh our options, ask for advice, ruminate.

           

So there we are, stuck in this tug-of-war, neither side letting go. How do we get “unstuck”? Perhaps it seems counterintuitive, but letting go requires us to move towards the fear or anxiety. It’s your fear, unique to you, and your fear can’t actually hurt you. So rather than “letting go” of fear, I invite you to welcome it by tuning in to what you’re noticing as you think about letting go. Maybe it’s a feeling in your stomach, or your chest, or your head, or more of an “all over” sensation. Maybe an image comes to mind, or a memory. Instead of labeling it as unpleasant and pushing it away or trying to shut it down, take a few deep breaths and see if you can be present with it, accepting that it’s here, and noticing what it needs you to know.

           

Your feelings about letting go are simply trying to get your attention, like the monster that lurks under a child’s bed when it’s time to surrender to sleep. How can a child sleep with a monster under the bed? So the parent dutifully checks under the bed, in the closet, in the corners and says, “There’s no monster.” The parent uses monster spray, just to be sure. When the parent is finished attending to the monster, does the child really believe there’s definitely no monster in the room? Probably not, but the child’s fears feel heard. The parent knows about the monster now, too. The child isn’t experiencing it alone. Maybe there is a monster, but the parent is there with the child, just down the hall.

           

We can be with the monsters that get in the way of letting go without them overpowering us. We don’t need to persuade them, just to listen. Once they feel our presence and feel heard, they tend to loosen their grip. You don’t let go of feelings, they let go of you. Then you can let go of old beliefs or behaviors, creating space for new possibilities, new opportunities, and new beliefs that fit who you really are. 

Trudy Gregson is a Licensed Professional Counselor who works with adults experiencing depression and anxiety, relationship issues, life transitions, grief and loss. Trudy brings mindfulness practice to her work with her clients to help them cultivate compassion for themselves and create the space for change. Trudy offers a free 30-minute phone consultation and can be reached at trudygregsontherapy@gmail.com or 267-652-1732.

Possibility and Presence through Transition

by Tracie Nichols

What if, by holding our questions a little longer, we saw answers where we least expected them…” Victoria Kindred Keziah

As day transits to night, I’m wrestling with words for this article about transition, specifically about the possibilities found in times of transition. I’ve been resisting the urge to “power through” and reach the end. Holding my questions a little longer, looking for a bit of unexpected inspiration.  

I notice that outside my window, low-angle sunlight flickers through sycamore leaves teased into movement by cooling daytime air. I’ve held my questions until I reached this transitional moment of the day. There are certain things - certain qualities - that can only exist in transitional zones like this late summer evening. Things like golden sunlight, rising breezes, and cricket song.

When we’re talking about transitions in our lives, the same principle holds. There are certain possibilities that only exist in the complex both-and state between problem and solution, ending and beginning, here and there.

Biologists call the transitional space between two distinct states of being an ecotone. In nature, these are places like a stand of shrubs between forest and field, or a reed bed between land and water. In our lives, these are the uncomfortable in-transition places between situations like being partnered and being single, or between one career and another.

Often we only notice ecotones in passing, if at all, our goal being to get out of the discomfort of between by moving quickly from here to there.

“Possibility only lives on the edge.” “Presence is the only way to walk the edge...” Margaret J. Wheatley

Translated from Greek, “ecotone” means “house of tension.” While tension can equate to unhelpful stress, it also means the productive, supportive kind of tension that our muscles exert to hold our bodies upright (without which we’d be floppy floor-dwellers), or the motivating tension of curiosity and anticipation.

To find the productive tension that opens us to possibility in our personal ecotones, we need to approach life transitions mindfully, bringing our full presence to the dance.

Then tension suspends us, holds us upright so we can notice possibilities being created by our here and there rubbing together sparking new ideas and opening paths we never would have seen had we only focused on reaching there.

The next time life tosses transition into your path, I invite you to bring your whole presence to the experience, be willing to surrender to healthy tension, and notice both what is and the unique potential of what could be.

Tracie Nichols, MA, is a Certified Career Services Provider with a Master’s degree in Human and Organizational Transformation and a passion for helping people explore their in-between places. She offers individual career coaching and strategy sessions, as well as classes helping people create a meaningful, enjoyable work life. Learn more about Tracie at tracienichols.com or connect with her at tracie@tracienichols.com or 215-527-5457.