As I close my eyes in the stillness of early morning, settling into my daily ritual of Vipassana, I feel the world speak to me in subtle tones. The rhythm of raindrops falling from the sky, the silence in my room, the birds humming their timeless song — everything feels alive. And yet, as I sink deeper into silence, I begin to hear something beyond sound — the gentle voice of impermanence, whispering softly, “Anicca… Anicca…” This too shall pass.
In this meditative state, thoughts rise like waves and dissolve into stillness. A profound realisation washes over me — that nothing remains. What gives us joy today will fade, what brings us sorrow will pass. Every feeling, every moment, every breath is transient. Nothing belongs to us, not even ourselves. And yet, we cling. We long. We ache for permanence in a world built on impermanence.
Why do we hold on? Why do we carry broken memories and fractured expectations, hoping they’ll somehow become whole again? We change. Our thoughts change. Every night we sleep, and every morning we wake as someone slightly new — yet we live as if we are static, as if time owes us something. But life owes us nothing, except the gift of this fleeting now.
The Buddha’s last words echo through time:
“Aniccā vata saṅkhārā, uppāda-vaya-dhammino;
Uppajjitvā nirujjhanti, tesaṃ vūpasamo sukho.”
All conditioned things are impermanent.
They arise and pass away.
To witness this truth — is bliss.
And so, life moves — not like a solid line, but like a breath. Here. And gone. Then here again. Our attachments, our identities, our victories, our losses — all will fade. And in that fading, there is peace. If only we allow it.
I once read a story about deer in the wilderness — a story that left a soft imprint on my heart. In the forests, deer live with the constant nearness of danger. One of their own may fall any day. And yet, the next morning, the herd grazes again — no mourning, no weeping. Why? Because deer forget. They don’t carry the grief of yesterday into today. To them, it is not weakness; it is survival. It is grace.
They remain gentle in a harsh world, not by hardening, but by letting go. Their hearts are tender, their minds forgiving. In that, there lies a hidden wisdom — that not all forgetting is loss. Sometimes, it is the only way to live.
Perhaps that’s what Vipassana teaches us — not to erase what was, but to release what weighs us down. To know that even sorrow has a time to leave. And joy too, will make its exit. And we… we are simply here for the dance. For the witnessing. For the moment.
So today, I begin again. With breath. With awareness. With the knowledge that nothing lasts — and because nothing lasts, everything is precious. Everything is enough. And everything… is already complete.
Dr Tanu jain
CEO Bareilly Cantonment
Ministry of defence
Spiritual seeker