The Permanence of Temporary Experiences

I went to Moab last weekend. Sitting on a rock above Upheaval Dome in Canyonlands and listening to the "profound silence echoing off the canyon walls" (not my words), I realized that I was in a place where you can't pretend to be anything you're not--a place where you want to stand on top of a plateau and smile into the sunshine or be buried underneath it.

I found myself wishing every day was like that day--being with friends, hiking in the morning and rafting in the afternoon. I found myself wishing I could always be in a place whose vastness reminds me that I am not the center of the universe.

I teach a watercolor class, and last night one of my students pointed out that any beauty we add to the world--in the form of art, gardening, music, or whatever--is added for good. Even if we throw the painting away or rip up the garden, that positive energy cannot be removed.

I buy it. I think we have to believe that the good we do for the world has permanence or life seems futile. As an extension of that thought, I would submit that any beauty we add to ourselves also stays with us. Not in a way that we don't have to constantly add to it, but in a way that temporary experiences have a lasting effect upon our souls.

So I say listen to the silence, smile into the sunshine, and let it fuel you through the less beautiful parts of life.