My granddaughter is in a play that we went to see last night. As we often do for her school plays, we take a little bouquet of carnations and daisies.
She is so happy to be in a play. And she's a budding gardener, so she's delighted with the flowers.
Flowers last a bit longer than the performance, but just as the play and the performance arise and cease, so do the flowers.
Impermanence. Everything we cherish will change and vanish. The river of life flows on, around us and through us. We can't hang on to anything--not our roles, which also arise and cease from moment to moment. And the flowers--here today, gone tomorrow.
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