Shriveled Lace
Observe how all things are continually being dissolved and reshaped and broken apart and recombined. Is there any harm in this, or anything to fear? It is the way of nature.
Marcus Aurelius observed, with a clarity that cuts across centuries, that in life, change is the rule, not the exception.
It’s not tragic or dramatic; it just is. Like the way rivers wear down mountains grain by grain, or how the forest floor drinks up a fallen tree, turning it into fuel for the next generation of growth. It seems that to Marcus, this wasn’t just a philosophical idea - it was a fact of nature, as solid and unchanging as the cycle itself.
Consider it: nothing in nature resists change. The leaves that crisp and fall in autumn don’t cling to their branches in defiance. The soil doesn’t lament the passing of the leaves; it transforms them into something useful, something necessary. And yet, when it comes to our own lives, we grip so tightly. Jobs we’ve outgrown, relationships that have shifted, identities that no longer fit - we clutch at them, as though staving off the inevitable could somehow stop it from happening.
Marcus wasn’t writing these thoughts in some peaceful retreat; the dude was ruling an empire, navigating wars, disease, and political backstabbing. And still, he saw no reason to fear this constant breaking down and building up. It’s simply the way of things, he thought, and maybe the best thing we can do is align ourselves with it.
So, what would it mean to live like this? To stop resisting the tide and start asking, What’s next? It’s not about giving up control or shrugging at life’s difficulties - it’s about seeing them differently. The forest doesn’t mourn the fallen tree; it grows something new. Could we? What could we make, or remake, from what’s dissolving around us? Maybe that’s the work of a lifetime - not to stop the flow but to learn to move with it.
