Embracing Impermanence: When You Love with an Open Heart

Every year, as January approaches, I catch myself in a reflective, introspective mood. What was the year like, what did I learn, what did I lose, what am I grateful for, what could I look forward to as the new year rolls by? I watch Buddy, sleeping next to me, occasionally opening his eyes and pawing me to gently stroke his neck.  I smile, overwhelmed with gratitude for how he has been my constant companion this past year, probably another one of those “bone crushing” tough years. A slightly poignant but realistic thought fleeted through my mind. “Loving someone with all my heart knowing they may or will leave has been one of the toughest lessons.”

Over the years, as the heart learnt to love deeply and to bear loss even more gravely, I realized that love is, at its core, an act of bravery. To love is to open ourselves to the possibility of joy, connection, and vulnerability—knowing, deep down, that nothing in life is permanent. Relationships evolve, moments fade, and even the most profound bonds can shift or end. Yet, it’s precisely this impermanence that makes love so powerful and transformative. When we love with the awareness that all things are fleeting, we experience life in its rawest, most beautiful form. I am beginning to make way for this realization as life continues to reveal itself to me.

And so, this understanding can be both heartbreaking and liberating, and it is within this tense push and pull—between holding on and letting go—that we discover some of life’s most poignant lessons. Here’s my attempt to bring those to the fore, which will help me make informed choices and navigate challenges moving forward:

The Courage to Let Go:
We often love with the hope that it will last forever, tethering our hearts to the idea of permanence. But life rarely abides by such wishes. When we embrace ephemerality, we learn that love doesn’t need to be bound to eternity to be meaningful. Instead, it teaches us:

— To let go gracefully and to find strength in vulnerability: Impermanence is not an invitation to detach ourselves from love, and appear unapproachable or guarded, but a call to release our grip on what we cannot control. It’s about loosening the chains of fear that make us cling so desperately to what we hold dear, knowing that one day we will be faced with loss, and we will need to brace for it. Knowing that everything is fleeting makes the act of loving even braver.

It’s a choice to keep the heart open, to risk the pain of loss for the beauty of connection, even if it is short lived. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting or moving on without care. It means loving fiercely in the now, even as we prepare to release when the time comes. When my mother fell ill in 2018 she would keep telling me to not be so attached to her because she worried that I would be devastated at her passing. I was. And while my heart ached in her physical absence, I soon saw merit in the lesson she was trying to teach me. Because more loss was going to come my way.

Gratitude in the Moment:
The fragility of love, its transience, teaches us to treasure what we have while we have it. Each moment becomes a gift that you savor, each interaction a miracle & a beautiful memory. This awareness fosters gratitude, not just as a passing sentiment but as a way of being:

— For the ordinary moments: A movie with Dad, the laughter of a friend over coffee, or Buddy coming by to greet me at the door everyday when I return from work—all are so precious to me because I know they will not last forever. When we stop expecting permanence, we begin to see the sacredness of even the briefest connection—a shared smile, a kind word, a warm touch.

— For love itself: Even relationships that end or falter leave behind echoes of beauty and lessons that shape us. There’s a certain tenderness in knowing that every “I love you,” every goodbye, every shared glance, carries a weight that is magnified by its impermanence. We celebrate every stage of love, whether it’s the heady rush of new romance, the quiet comfort of companionship, or the bittersweet process of parting ways, each phase holds its own beauty. This is all I can say about this for now, but maybe I will write a book on this one day 😊

This gratitude transforms how we live. It invites us to soak in it, to notice, and to truly be present, knowing that each moment is irreplaceable.

The Pain and Power of Loss:
When you love, you will lose. It’s a truth that can feel unbearable and we may not be ready to face it yet. Whether it’s the end of a relationship, the passing of a loved one, or the natural drifting apart that time brings. Loss cuts deeply. But impermanence also shows us that:

— Grief is a measure of love: The pain of losing someone is a reflection of how deeply they touched our lives. This pain, while heavy, is a testament to the beauty of what we shared. And it’s upto us to carry it forever in our heart.

— Endings do not erase beginnings: The fact that something ends doesn’t negate its existence or its impact. The love we give and receive stays with us, even as the form of the relationship changes.

— We can endure: Each loss teaches us that we are stronger than we imagined, capable of rebuilding, and, ultimately, of loving again. While it may not be as easy as I am making it sound, and one is faced with sadness, doubt, anxiety, grief, anger, and an array of emotions, but if we choose to be resilient, we will find love again, for ourselves, and for someone else.

Growth Through Transience:
While impermanence reminds us that everything changes, it also reveals a paradox: the impact of love is eternal. The people we love, the moments we share, the lessons we learn—these things become part of us, shaping our souls in ways that time cannot erase. One of the biggest lessons I seem to be teaching people is to make space for uncertainty, unpredictability, and to drop the struggle of trying to control what is beyond our reach. Love falls within this realm too, because we are acutely aware that there will be a time when we will need to embrace the potential loss of it as well. This acceptance fosters:

— Resilience & Wisdom: Life’s challenges and changes may bend us, but they don’t break us. We bounce right back. Each ending becomes a beginning, each loss a lesson. The lessons lead us to discoveries where over time, we learn that impermanence is not a curse but a gift, one that teaches us what truly matters.

— Self-discovery: In the spaces where love fades or shifts, we find ourselves—our strength, our capacity for compassion, and our ability to start anew. This growth in no way erases the pain of impermanence but shifts something else within us, shaping us into who we are, resolute, brave and determined.

— Embracing change with tenderness: When love transforms—when a partner grows into a friend or a child becomes an adult—we can honor the evolution instead of mourning what was. The impermanence of love doesn’t diminish its value; it amplifies it, reminding us to be fully present for the time we are given…

It’s a cold December morning as I finish writing this piece. Buddy is eyeing the couch I am sitting on, one which he has laid claim on for the past few months. He nudges me, with a toy in his mouth, asking me to play with him, a moment that lasts for a few minutes before he comfortably flops himself at my feet, with his heart feeling content, having engaged with his human. I smile, as I start to set my laptop aside to pay attention to him…But wait, before I go, here’s one more thing I wanted to say to you:

Loving with the awareness of impermanence is not about holding back—it’s about diving in fully, knowing that it is this very impermanence that makes it so achingly, heartbreakingly, and breathtakingly beautiful.  So, let us love fiercely, tenderly, and completely, for in embracing impermanence, we finally learn what it means to truly love, leading us to a self-discovery that has been uncharted thus far.

Shattered Lives: The Horrors of Abuse, Rape, and Murder in the Wake of India's 78th Independence

I logged in for my session yesterday with a client and she looked forlorn, not her usual chirpy self. She had overcome her severe anxiety in many ways and was doing so much better. I wondered what could have led to her looking so glum.

“I just finished catching up on the news about the Kolkata doctor who was raped and murdered.” She said. I found my answer.

We spoke about it for a bit…how unsafe us women feel in being alone on the streets, or even taking public transport late in the evening. How we have to think about what we need to wear, how we need to behave in public lest we bring on some “unwanted attention.” It’s sad how it’s become second nature, because just that day as I was getting ready for work, I thought, “Should I wear this saree, but wait, it has a sleeveless blouse and I know I will be returning late on the metro, after an official event, which means a 10 minute walk from the metro station to home…Hmm, let’s wear something else that basically covers me from head to toe.”

People wonder why I drive 30 minutes to Delhi at 4:30 AM on Sundays for my long runs. Because running in Noida is met with stares and hooting and whistles makes me feel very jittery and “dirty.” How we have to live in fear and apprehension, not because we have been conditioned to it, but because a Nirbhaya case happens, and then the one in Kolkata, and countless others that go undocumented, unreported, undiscovered. Lives lost to brutality, to inhumanity, to violence of minds, bodies, and spirits, and we fear it could be us next, or someone we love. But I’ve digressed, because yes, my mind is all over the place today, trying to make sense of this world we live in...

Back to my 26-year-old client, who looked at me wistfully through the screen. “How can I bring a child into this world when it feels so inhospitable?” We collectively grieved yesterday, silently, with so many others out there, thronging the streets, seeking justice for the Kolkata doctor, and seeking liberation from such atrocities on India’s 78th Independence day.

Someone I know was subjected to sexual abuse 28 years ago, and when she described it to me, I could feel my blood boil. My heart ached for her, as I saw the panic and fear in her eyes which were pleading for feelings of security and safety in a world that she has only known as threatening, violating, intrusive, having stripped her literally of all dignity and respect years ago. The trauma seeps through every cell of the body, the brain is on constant high alert, scanning for what else could come and shatter her world, a world where now she has two teenage daughters who are just about learning to be independent. The trauma crosses over to the next generations; where nannies and guards are constant companions, while going to school, on play dates, and at home, while constantly hearing “please don’t close your door and sleep because I won’t be able to hear if anything goes wrong.” Their lives are shaped such, where fear dictates every decision, and they lose opportunities where they could have thrived, and they have ended up losing a significant part of their childhood.

Having worked with survivors of sexual abuse, who continue to live in the shadows of their trauma, I know what a lifelong impact it has on some of them who have suffered the most heinous crimes. It starts off with their claims of abuse not being believed, let alone validated. Protecting the family’s reputation takes priority, and not believing that the person could have done such an act. That’s the first instance the child feels that they are not significant, are not important enough, and the marginalization begins there. But only they know, the pain and anguish they feel every waking day of that abuse. It’s a thing of the past, but its shackles bind the person years later.

“I can’t trust a man/woman again.”
“I have trouble being emotionally and physically intimate with my partner and they just don’t seem to understand. And even I don’t know why this happens.”
“Why I am constantly anxious and fearful?”  And so on…

The onus has been on the woman. Don’t wear skimpy clothes, don’t drink alcohol, don’t look like you’re too progressive, don’t go out late in the nights, don’t go to clubs…because well, that is an “invitation” for men to misbehave with them. Basically, just give up dreaming of a life that you deserve, of respect, care, and independence.

The Kolkata doctor went to rest for the night at 2 AM. She is training to work in a profession where she is providing care to scores of people selflessly. What was the reason that such monstrosity was unleashed on her? She had not put herself in a “vulnerable” situation deliberately. This was most likely her daily routine as part of her training. But yet, why her? Did she “bring” this on herself? And we clearly know the answer.

It has NOTHING to do with her but everything to do with the man or gang of men who raped and murdered her. And it just doesn’t stop.

Sexual abuse survivors live with the trauma for years. I can’t imagine the grief the loved ones are left with when a rape victim is mercilessly raped and murdered.

“Beti bachao, beti padhao.” We see this message splashed all over across campaigns, public transport and billboards. Female infanticide may be on the decline but there needs to be a shift now and educate people on how to raise men who treat women with kindness, sensitivity, respect, and honor. We need to do away with cliches such as “men will be men” which are often used to dismiss or excuse certain behaviors or attitudes typically associated with men such as aggression, promiscuity, or a lack of emotional sensitivity. This phrase does nothing but perpetuate harmful stereotypes and to justify inappropriate or even harmful actions such as sexism, harassment, or other forms of misconduct. It does nothing but reinforce the idea that men are incapable of change or responsible behavior, which does nothing but causes an erosion of the basic fabric of society. That of collective support, of a symbiotic, thriving relationship with each other, of growing together and being pillars of strength and support.

I am so grateful to be at the receiving end of the love and respect from the men in my family, my network of friends and colleagues who have supported me, and have made me feel safe. I wish everyone had the good fortune to be surrounded by individuals like these…Those who are known to us, and those who are strangers as well, who look to us with compassion, kindness, respect, and with whom we don’t have to look over our shoulder to see if we would be anything but secure.

We need respect and humanity for all, where together we create a safe world. Where this becomes a life skill, a lesson in every home, in every school from the formative years, in workplaces, and in every corner of our existence, for men and women alike.

We need people who witness any offensive behavior to speak up and fight and save and protect, rather than be mute spectators or worse yet, catch it on camera to share it on social media. That is not enough.

We need kindness as true strength rather than brazen masculinity and aggression as a badge that is flaunted and normalized. We need to teach our kids beyond just recognizing “good touch/bad touch” but how to treat each other with compassion and reverence, irrespective of what we look like, what we wear, where we are, at whatever time of the day.

If we can’t assure every citizen this basic right then we truly need to question our very basic existence and purpose.