Letting Change Be Our Companion
How the truth of impermanence can soften the grip of painful echoes
A Quiet Beginning
There are days when echoes of the past feel like they might never loosen their hold. A sound, a memory, or even a certain time of year can bring the past rushing forward. It can feel permanent, like this heaviness is who we are now and who we’ll always be.
But life has a way of reminding us otherwise. A morning storm clears to blue sky. A hard moment eventually softens into calm. A single breath changes into another. Even the echoes that feel so fixed are, in truth, moving.
This is one of the central teachings in Buddhism, called impermanence. Everything changes. Nothing stays exactly the same. Not joy, not grief, not fear. At first this can sound frightening. But for those of us living with trauma, it can also be a source of relief.
What Impermanence Means in Plain Words
Impermanence simply means that nothing is frozen forever. Every feeling, every thought, every sensation is in motion. It may last a long time, but it does not stay exactly as it is.
Think of the seasons. Winter can feel endless in its darkness, but eventually spring stirs beneath the ground. The same is true for us. No matter how fixed a state of pain feels, it will shift, even if only slightly, even if it takes time.
This doesn’t mean we can force change, or that we should try to rush it. It means that we can trust that change is always quietly happening. Our task is to notice it, to allow it, and sometimes simply to remember that nothing lasts forever.
How This Speaks to Survivors
For survivors, echoes can feel permanent. They return without warning, and when we are inside them, they feel absolute. The fear, the sadness, the guilt… all of it can seem like it has no end.
Impermanence tells us: this moment will pass. The sharpness will soften. The wave will eventually recede. Even if it comes again, it will not stay forever.
This doesn’t mean our pain isn’t real. It doesn’t mean what happened is erased. It means that the way pain feels in our bodies right now will change. That’s a quiet kind of hope, not the loud, demanding kind that insists we “move on,” but the steady reminder that we are not stuck in one place forever.
Why This Matters
Impermanence is not about denying pain, it’s about creating space around it.
When we realize that no feeling is fixed, we can breathe more easily.
We don’t have to be swallowed whole by the thought, “I’ll always feel this way.” Instead, we can hold onto the truth, “This is what I feel right now, and it will shift.”
Psychologists sometimes call this “decentering,” the ability to step back from a thought or feeling and see it as temporary. Buddhists simply call it seeing clearly. Whatever name we use, it helps us feel less trapped.
Gentle Practices for Remembering Change
Here are a few small ways to remind ourselves of impermanence in daily life:
Watch the breath. Notice how each inhale is different from each exhale, and how no breath stays. This simple practice can anchor us in change.
Look to nature. A flower wilts, clouds move, shadows shift. When we pay attention, the world is teaching impermanence all the time.
Name the moment. When a difficult feeling arises, you might whisper to yourself, “This is here right now. And it will pass.”
These are not cures. They are reminders. They can help loosen the sense that we are trapped inside a single echo.
Carrying the Echo Forward
Impermanence is not only about loss. It also means joy can return, connection can grow, and new meaning can be found. Change is not always dramatic, but it is constant. And that constancy of change is a kind of comfort.
If we can learn to rest in this truth, even just a little, we may find it easier to trust that nothing, not even pain, lasts forever. There is always room for a new moment to arrive.