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Dear Dharma Family, One of my earliest memories is of impermanence. I must have been only three or four years old, yet what this impression has left on me is profound and has never faded. It was a holiday in France- July 14th, Bastille Day. My parents were with me, and the city was alive with joy. People were gathering, walking along the boulevard, a great vantage point where you can admire the splendor of the entire chain of Pyrenees mountains afar; we were all dressed up, waiting for the fireworks. I remember sitting high on my father’s shoulders, carried by his strength, feeling so much joy in my favorite light pink dress, white socks and Mary Jane black patent shoes, buoyed by my joy, feeling the energy of a carefree crowd, delighted simply to be out, on a balmy evening, and a part of the celebration. Then the fireworks began. Explosions of color and light filled the sky. They were dazzling, magnificent, as the crowd expressed delight and for those few moments, my eyes were filled with wonder, my heart completely full with joy, and awe. And then, suddenly, it was over. The sky turned dark again. The silence after the brilliance and the cascading explosions became deafening. I remember my heart missed a bit or two, as something churned inside my stomach. On my father’s shoulders, my mother by my side, surrounded by the crowd, I felt emptiness in my stomach, a tremendous void. And from within that void, a deep and surprising loneliness, even while held close and lifted high. That evening, France celebrated freedom, and for me, in my young heart, another kind of freedom was dawning: the freedom that comes when we see things as they are. The fireworks gave me the first encounter with impermanence. A wave of sadness came over me so strongly that I began to weep, as my thoughts raced, asking silently: Is that it? Is that all? Is that all there is to life? So brief, so beautiful, so ephemeral that we may not even have the chance to say Goodbye? As a child, I could not name what I felt at the time: the truth that everything arise, shines and passes away. Life itself is like a fireworks- brief, beautiful, and fleeting. I didn’t have words for what I was feeling, but the Buddha's teaching was already there: all things are impermanent. That sadness was, in fact the seed of awareness. It was my first direct experience of the truth the Buddha so often reminds us of. This memory still moves me deeply. It reminds me that every moment we are given is precious, precisely because it does not last. Our joys, our sorrows, our relationships, our very lives- all are passing, through the sky like dazzling fireworks. The practice of mindfulness and awareness allows us to meet each moment fully, with presence and tenderness. When we see impermanence clearly, instead of clinging or turning away, we learn to cherish what is here now. I share this intimate and powerful story with you because it shows that from such a young age not only the experience of impermanence was felt deeply but also the emotional echo: the void and loneliness that can follow, when beauty and joy pass: At that moment, a switch was turned on inside and the light of truth continues to guide my practice and my teaching. You are invited, as you move through your days, to notice the “fireworks” of your life- the fleeting, beautiful moments that appear and vanish. Pause and appreciate them. Let impermanence not be a source of sadness, but rather a celebration for this incredible gift given to you, let compassion bloom inside your heart, let wisdom perfume your words and share your joy with all beings. With energy and joy, ~Ven. Bao Co
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