Fluidity
by Oborot Thosquan
Most of us struggle against the tide of impermanence, but like trying to
stop a wave at the beach we are faced with constant disappointment as our
precious moments decay into the past.
We have made our worlds solid and try to hold on to each blooming flower,
but it inevitably wilts and falls away.
It is hard to carve a horse from stone and by the time you have finished you
have lost a lot of time and it is still guaranteed that it will eventually
erode and yes one day become sand.
The same comparison done with clay, it's easier but not as resilient and
impermanence swallows its design.
Children use play-dough, I love it, they make it and destroy it and make it
something else, amused by the moment, not the past. Thus nothing is old to
them.
The victorious "LOOK MUM!" and sometimes not even that is a child's reward.
The Taoist crafts with water, not fighting impermanence but embraces becoming
it, he is not the man trying to stop the wave, but the wave engulfing the
present, carving his design at the same time it vanishes.
No mind, if he lusted a result his water would become stone, much too hard,
that is the nature of internal alchemy.