Written by Jen Liu

“Although it's natural to aspire to make progress on the path, it's important to keep in mind that meditation isn't designed for us to become experts at it as much as it is there to show us something. There is nothing that is permanent, including our ability to stay present at all times. And far from a reason to give up, this is a reason to keep practicing.”

Impermanence is an immensely important and profound ingredient of Buddhist philosophy. Many of us are introduced to the concept through contemplations on death, aging, and loss. We reflect on the ever-changing winds of our lives — the emergence and dissolution of relationships, jobs, material objects, even our own inner and outer transformations over time. But something occurred to me once during my meditation practice that helped me connect to the idea of impermanence in a new (and, honestly, funny) way. I realized that mindfulness is impermanent, too.

During mindfulness meditation, we begin to observe how the formless, slippery, ever-renewing quality of breath mirrors the impermanence of each unique moment that arises. Thoughts pop up seemingly out of the abyss and proliferate into innumerable stories, before inevitably dissolving and being replaced by even more impermanent thoughts. They dance and pass like clouds in the sky — and eventually, we start to notice our awareness of that phenomenon do the same.

Once we think we've finally got mindfulness in our grasp — I did it! I noticed my discursiveness! — it slips away and we're back to square one, realizing we just got lost in another daydream. Attempting to tether our discursive, rapidly shapeshifting thoughts to some modicum of attention can feel like trying to nail water to a flame. But therein lies a valuable teaching.

Although it's natural to aspire to make progress on the path, it's important to keep in mind that meditation isn't designed for us to become experts at it as much as it is there to show us something. There is nothing that is permanent, including our ability to stay present at all times. And far from a reason to give up, this is a reason to keep practicing.

It can be frustrating to reckon with the impermanence of our own mindfulness, especially at the beginning stages of meditation when it often feels insurmountable. But learning to accept our process in all its messiness with self-compassion, courage, and a sense of humor is just one of the many valuable teachings that come with this practice. It's not insurmountable, because it was never a problem to begin with.

Mindfulness is not a destination; as long as we are here in this human birth, there will be no point where we will finally have practiced enough to achieve permanent mindfulness. And this opens our eyes to the truth of impermanence as part of the wisdom of the universe, not a flaw in it. Impermanence is not a problem to solve, it's something to behold.