On "this ever new self"

One of my tomato plants, after the season's first sub zero temperature.

 

On November 1, 1858, Thoreau wrote about how the shortening days remind us of the shortness of life.  And yet, despite this sense of endings...

...there is no more tempting novelty than this new November.  No going to Europe or another world is to be named with it.  Give me the old familiar walk, post-office and all, with this ever new self, with this infinite expectation and faith, which does not know when it is beaten.  We'll go nutting once more.  We'll pluck the nut of the world, and crack it in the winter evenings.

Today I listened to Joseph Goldstien's "Everything Changes - Mindfulness Meditation," and reheard the key Buddhist idea: "whatever emerges will also pass away." The flipside of that is that the world is constantly emerging.  There's new every moment.  And we have "this ever new self" that is receptive to the possibilities of the world.  This is why we should study how to meet the world with an expectation of beauty.

Goldstein also notes that the practice of mindfulness, of choosing which ideas to follow, of being aware of the changing nature of experience, "opens up possibilities of discernment and choice in our lives."  Such is what I've been trying to say about "the hand-chosen life."