It’s been a long, cold winter, and I’m pleased to say that by the time I write next week’s blog post, it’ll officially be spring. I couldn’t wait until next week to talk about cherry blossoms, though, because if you’re in San Diego, the cherry trees are already blooming. I know there are some in the Japanese Friendship Garden if you're interested in seeing them. (In my area, near DC, peak bloom doesn’t come until next week.)
Why all the rush?
Cherry blossoms don’t stick around for too long, and if you want to get the full effect, there’s a two-week window when they’re especially glorious. Cherry trees are not the first things to bloom, but they are synonymous with the coming of spring.
Once upon a time, I went to Washington DC during peak bloom time (but not during the crowded festival). I can remember the cool spring breeze and the delicate pink petals that came along with each breath of wind. Time has taken my memory of everything else that happened that day, but the image and the feeling of the trees are mine to keep.
Yeah, but what about the yoga?
It’s hard to think of cherry blossoms without thinking of Japan. (Fun fact: The original cherry trees in Washington DC were a gift from Tokyo.) If you’re new to the Union Yoga community, you may not know that Union Yoga has ties to Japan! In pre-COVID times, Rex went to Japan just about every year. In Union’s first year, we had a yoga retreat in Japan. We’re hoping to head back next year when travel is a bit safer. If you’re interested in that, the details are still TBD.
Aside from our community’s connection to Japan, cherry blossoms are an excellent way to engage in mindfulness. I’m still learning that we can find opportunities to be mindful in every moment. Cherry blossoms help us out through their ephemerality. It is this very quality that sends people to observe and have picnics under the trees every year.
That’s right, we’re talking about impermanence…again
Because of their intense beauty and the short window in which we can see them, cherry blossoms are a great avenue for mindfulness. When it’s time for them to bloom, we have to be here now, or we might miss them.
I’m not sure how you feel about this, but when I consider impermanence, I’m often thinking about letting something go. Whenever there’s a major upheaval in my life and I have to say goodbye to something I love, I chalk it up to impermanence. Impermanence has taken on this aching quality in my practice, and the sense of letting go comes closely at the heels of a sense of grasping. (Grasping=suffering.) Recently, I’ve grown to understand that that’s a one-sided view of impermanence.
Yes, the cherry blossoms do go. We just talked about their immediacy. There’s a part of impermanence that I’ve been neglecting, though. Maybe pointing it out can help you in some way. The cherry blossoms also arrive.
Instead of grasping at a moment that scatters like petals, I’m learning to see the arrival and arising of things too. If I look deeply enough into the trees, I can see the cherry blossoms haven’t really gone anywhere when they go, either. (The Buddhists in the crowd may have immediately connected this to the idea of, “No birth and no death.”) While the flowers may cease to be photogenic, the tree remains. The capacity of more flowers to manifest is still there. It’s only that the conditions aren’t right for that manifestation yet. Next year, when the temperature and length of day spur the trees into flowering mode again, we’ll once more see the flowers.
In the Virginia/ DC area, we had snow and a killing frost on Saturday. The early cherry blossoms from one variety of trees were already beginning to manifest, which means that they were bitten by the frost. We won’t see those blossoms this year. This is a reminder that there are no guarantees. Life is always in flux. The trees are fine, though. When the conditions are correct next year, the flowers will manifest.
There’s hope in these trees
Everything can and does change, and that’s actually not a bad thing. Thich Nhat Hanh often describes impermanence from an angle that’s much more positive than the way I initially approached the concept. He reminds us that without impermanence, a seed cannot become a plant, and a baby can never grow up. Without impermanence, the whole system goes out of whack.
We’ve just gone through the “goingness” that is fall and winter. Now, we can watch things as they arise. When you go outside today, look for the things waking up this spring.
Planting new trees
My spouse has gifted me two Yoshino cherry trees this year. They’ll soon arrive in one-gallon pots, and when they arrive, they’ll bring the potential for thousands of blooms with them. I can't wait to see the trees and the flowers within the trees. If I'm lucky, I'll even get to see the blossoms on the trees.
Will you be enjoying the sakura this spring? How are you understanding impermanence these days? Is there anything you really want to read about in the "Always a Student" messages? Let me know! I’m always excited to hear from you, my friends.