Everything is permanent in its cycles of change and renewal and impermanent in its individually enduring identity. - David Richo

Leonardo Da Vinci said that the soul "longs to dwell within the body, for only in the body can it act and feel." Soul is that part of the Mystery which feels its way into existence through living beings. It either exists or it does not, we do not know this for a fact. Yet something eternal and wise pulses within us amidst the uncertainties and shifting sands of this, our life walk. We may postulate, yet in truth we know nothing of the mysteries of existence, our whys, wherefores and Creation's purpose in our being here. What we do know exists in the holy moment of Now, revealed simply in Nobel poet Octavio Paz's reflective, "I am a pause."

We might wonder if we can possibly find peace abiding in this Now. And no doubt we can. As long as we remain focused in the present moment, peace is possible. The more difficult question is whether the mind can find peace in the present, hence its frantic search for permanence amidst the transient nature of reality. The mind is such a strong force within, we have mistaken it for a life orientation tool. Yet time and again, mind-as-compass points us in any direction but inward, where the soul's journey begins and where it surely must exit when the life of form extinguishes itself.

We can glimpse the expansive nature of eternal truth in this moment only, yet when we seek a foothold in eternity, it eludes our grasp. The ground is always sliding out from under our feet, just when we had them rooted in some imagined truth. We blink, and there are more births and deaths than we can count. We blink again and we ourselves are gone, and the world continues without us. We may or may not complete the circle we have begun to draw with our own hand. We may or may not gather what we need for the journey into death. We live our lives and die our deaths with or without preparation. All belief systems crumble under the weight of this knowing.

Confronting the nature of impermanence keeps many of us distracted and/or focused on what is physically tangible. Depending on how willing we are to confront a life bereft of artifice, we come sooner or later to the realization of our tenuous human existence. The more armor we drop, the more naked and exposed we feel. Yet in uncovering our vulnerability, we discover an open heart. If we are able to live with hearts open, we become increasingly aware of the tender qualities of all beings, and this fragility can unite us. Stripped of our defenses and our make-pretend lives, our shared heart lies beating, marking time until another generation accepts the baton and moves the pulse of existence into another parenthesis in eternity.

Change is permanent. Permanence is ever-changing. Confronting this seeming paradox takes courage, and courage is the price life exacts for granting us peace (Amelia Earhart). And though these words may inspire, they also leave many of us unsettled. How can we find peace knowing that our noble efforts to learn the nature of reality only lead us further into the Zen labyrinthine form is emptiness, emptiness is form? Where is our security in this, where indeed the ground upon which we may place our feet and our faith? If our faith has been limited to Christianity and the concept of One God, we might outrightly reject such valuable insights in favor of the status quo. Certainly it seems safer to do so. Many of us are searching for authenticity, for wholeness, yet to be authentic is to be fully present to ourselves and others, not a state of mind to be achieved. As philosopher Martin Heidegger reminds us, "Persons are not things or processes but openings through which the infinite manifests."

Even if we have taken the first huge step in rejecting the false foundations of our past, meeting our lives on a moment-to-moment basis can prove most difficult. Old conditioning dies hard, and the mind struggles to regain its favored position. How can we be full and empty at the same time? If there is no void to fill, what are we searching for? To what purpose do we aspire? Sri Aurobindo writes in his Ideal of Human Unity, "A divine life in a material world implies necessarily a union of the two ends of existence, the spiritual summit and the material base. The soul with the basis of its life established in Matter ascends to the heights of the Spirit but does not cast away its base, it joins the heights and the depths together. The Spirit descends into Matter and the material world with all its lights and glories and powers and with them fills and transforms life in the material world so that it becomes more and more divine."

Soul ascends to the heights of Spirit, but does not cast away its base. As Soul feels its way into this world through the body or base, we are drawn into one indisputable conclusion: the body can live only in the present. Again we are directed into life in the moment, rife with uncertainty and impermanence. The mind may hold onto what happened one second ago, but the body is here in the Now. To honor the Soul's journey is to honor the transient nature of physical existence. Learning to live with impermanence can seem incredibly frightening to the grasping mind. On the other hand, reframing our existence into the present moment can give us the greatest measure of peace, for we are accepting nothing less than the true nature of Being.

If there is a place within us which vibrates to the frequency of Creation and yet we are also in possession of a rational human mind, certainly there is usefulness in both. Yet only one of these has a flawless capacity for recognizing the truth of What Is. Acceptance of the transient nature of all things can guide us through life, yet our minds are powerful instruments which constantly challenge us to prove what we know. Poet e.e. cummings called the mind a policeman. Doubt and fear are mental constructs, and if we live in their midst, peace will continue to elude us. Yet it is not easy to simply abandon our minds and walk in trust. Han Hung reflects, "The biggest risk: to trust that these conditions are all that I need to be myself."

For most of us, daily practice is necessary to maintain the inner discipline required to stay a course in the present. Everything around us demands that we distract ourselves, from the bumper sticker on the car in front of us in traffic to the office gossip, the needs of partners, friends and children ­ the list grows longer as we allow it to unfurl in front of us. Sitting with ourselves, with our fear and faulty humanness, can be difficult. Yet we can't just give up fear and get with the program. Fear leaves its thumbprint deep in our bodies. Most emotions imprint themselves upon us in this way ­ they are physically felt. If feelings are suppressed, imbalance manifests itself physically as a hardening of the spirit. As Soul attempts to express the divine through us as living beings, unprocessed emotions insert themselves between ourselves and Creation. Separation fosters an ever-widening gulf between Us and It, and invariably between Us and Them. In order to experience peace, to feel a unity with Creation as well as all beings, in order to arrive at the place where we can accept impermanence and the transient nature of things, it is beneficial to embrace a practice where we sit with ourselves on a regular basis. Sitting in openness and self acceptance can seem arduous, yet it is the only way we can learn to remain present to ourselves, both in what is congruent as well as that with which we are seemingly misaligned. We can only experience Now in this moment. When this moment is gone, its power evaporates. To change involves choice, and our choices dissolve on a moment-to-moment basis, even though their impact may still be felt. Remaining present to ourselves assures we are making conscious choices, as best we are able, moment to moment. Perhaps it is only this which our souls require, the fertile albeit transient ground in which the seeds of human potential are continuously sown.