The Quiet Beauty of Impermanence

Maheen meditating on a rock at the edge of the dramatic Haleakalā crater in Maui, Hawaii

This summer, our home was filled with life — friends and family visiting, deer frolicking, butterflies fluttering through our garden, and the joyful chaos of the kids singing along to KPOP Demon Hunters. The house was full, and so was my heart. Now, with my children back in school and loved ones returned home, the quiet feels almost startling. I find myself sitting with this stillness. In this pause, I am reminded that life moves in cycles — nothing stays fixed.

For me, impermanence isn’t only about what we see around us or what is happening to us — the morning air turning crisp, the change in daily routines, or even the radical fluctuations in laws and policies shaping our communities. It’s also about the subtle shifts inside of us: the way our energy flows, our priorities redirect, and our hearts beat at a different pace. This past season has brought its share of changes, and I am confronted with feelings of unease — some tender, some uncomfortable — all nudging to be acknowledged. But when I pause and remain in this stillness, I realize that change is calling me to soften — to meet impermanence not with fear, but with curiosity.

Aparigraha, the fifth Yama in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, means non-attachment or non-possessiveness. We cannot hold on to a season, a feeling, or even a breath. Each one arrives, stays for a while, and then passes. And while change can feel bittersweet, Aparigraha offers us a sense of freedom and teaches us to meet impermanence with awareness and compassion.

On the mat, we flow from pose to pose, breath to breath, practicing presence in each hold and transition. Off the mat, we can bring this same awareness into our lives, learning to see impermanence not as a loss of what was, but as a guide for growth and transformation.

So take a breath with me. Feel the expansion through your ribs and hold it at the top of your heart center. Exhale gently, softening the chest, ribs, and belly. Even this breath cannot stay. But there will be another, and then another. In this cycle of receiving and releasing, we connect to a deeper source of peace.

As September unfolds, I invite you to soften into the transitions around you, to honor what has passed, to open yourself to what is coming, and to find beauty in this moment — knowing that this too will change.

With love and gratitude,

Maheen