Ximena Blake Ximena Blake

Finding Peace in Reality: The Five Remembrances

It all begins with an idea.

In the heart of Buddhist teachings lie the Five Remembrances, profound truths that, at first glance, might seem somber. Yet, for me, they are a wellspring of peace, offering a clear lens through which to see reality as it truly is. These remembrances aren't meant to inspire fear but rather to ground us in the fundamental nature of existence. They remind me:

  • I am of the nature to grow old. I cannot escape old age.

  • I am of the nature to get sick. I cannot escape sickness.

  • I am of the nature to die. I cannot escape death.

  • All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

  • I inherit the results of my actions of body, speech, and mind; my actions are my continuation.

Embracing these truths helps me remember what is genuinely important in life. It fosters a profound sense of peace with impermanence, understanding that these five statements are not unique to me, but are the shared reality for every living being. This universal applicability is a source of great comfort. It highlights that my time on this planet is indeed limited, which, rather than being a cause for anxiety, becomes a powerful motivator to focus on the present moment. Every breath, every sunrise, every moment I am alive and well, is truly a gift to be cherished.

This understanding becomes particularly poignant when facing life's inevitable challenges. My beloved dog, Wimbly, will be 12 this year, and I'm acutely aware that our time together is precious and finite. Just like it’s in my nature to change, to grow old, and eventually, to die, so it is in hers. We are united in this way, it is a truth I must accept and make peace with. Contemplating the Five Remembrances provides a deeply peaceful way to reckon with such realities, strengthening me not just for the eventual parting with Wimbly, but for all the challenges that are certain to arise in this beautiful, ever-changing life.

Contemplating the Remembrances in Meditation

Bringing the Five Remembrances into your meditation practice can be incredibly transformative. I find it helpful to focus on just one or two of the remembrances at a time. It can feel difficult at first to sit with and truly contemplate the messages of change, death, and separation. However, by starting with the breath as an anchor and cultivating an attitude of compassion towards yourself and any loved ones that appear in your mind, it becomes easier to accept the reality of these profound truths. While we don't have a choice when it comes to change, aging, and death, we absolutely have a choice in how we act in response to them. Over time, a sense of kindness, gratitude, and patience can help ease us into acceptance, and eventually, an ability to truly embrace reality can arise. This kind of meditation helps me be more gentle with myself and all my emotions, deepening my realization of the importance of the present moment even more.

Read More
Ximena Blake Ximena Blake

Meditate Like a Tree

Trees are incredible teachers of impermanence, even as they provide the illusion that things always stay the same. If you live in a neighborhood with a lot of trees, like I do, you see the same ones every time you take a walk. They're easy to take for granted, often fading into the background. They seem permanent and fixed, standing as silent observers for decades or even centuries, typically outliving humans and most other creatures. This makes them a powerful example of the illusion of permanence. Yet, a tree itself is always changing. While some changes are obvious—their leaves shifting with the seasons, or flowers and fruits appearing and disappearing—trees are also constantly changing in imperceptible ways. Their trunks thicken, branches extend, and roots deepen over time. Trees stand out in the open, accepting whatever changes come their way. But you could walk past the same tree your entire life and only notice the most apparent transformations, easily assuming that for the most part, they stay the same.

Sometimes, it's hard to truly sit with the idea of impermanence, especially since it can lead to thoughts of the inevitability of aging and death. Contemplating trees and their impermanence offers a gentle way to reflect on the impermanence of all other things, including ourselves. Trees benefit from very long, seemingly unchanging lives. If left undisturbed, they can exist for hundreds of years without much to worry about. We humans, in comparison, live very short lives, and it's in our nature to worry and struggle. However, we also have the incredible gift of being able to take action. We can move freely and make choices to change our lives for the better in an instant.

When walking around my neighborhood, I've started paying closer attention to all the trees nestled among the houses. I think about how lucky I am to be surrounded by them and how much I enjoy their shade. I like to imagine all the things they've witnessed: how many people they've observed coming and going, all the families moving in and out of homes, how many children they've seen grow from babies to toddlers to teenagers. They've silently watched houses being torn down or repaired, and countless times, seen wet concrete being poured to create a sidewalk, then watched as a family wrote their names in it with a stick, leaving their mark for many generations to see long after the family is gone.

Sometimes, when walking my dog Wimbly, and she takes her time sniffing around in one spot, I like to look up and watch the leaves of a tree moving in the wind. This is one of my favorite meditative moments. I focus on the movement of the leaves and how the wind moves them for no reason at all—meaning, the wind doesn't move the leaves with a purpose, it's not for show, nor does it move the leaves and branches to assert control over the tree. The wind blows because that's what the wind does. The leaves move because it's in their nature to move with the wind. I take a moment to feel like a tree myself and contemplate my own nature: standing still, feeling permanent, yet knowing I am impermanent and changing, even if only imperceptibly on the inside. I take the time to wonder at this illusion—the sense that things always stay the same—and the profound knowledge that change is constantly happening all around me.

Read More