Loss: the Absence of What Used to Be

Loss is a sneaky business. Sometimes, it’s so subtle we don’t even realize something is gone. We’re sad or irritable or forgetful, but can’t quite pinpoint the cause. Other times, we are hit in the head with something so obvious, it feels like we’ve been in a train wreck.

We know what loss is, of course. We have something, and then we don’t have it—a love affair, a marriage, a promotion or a job, a parent, wealth, a dream. We had it; we lost it. What’s left is a hole where it used to be.

Years ago, one of my favorite authors, Judith Viorst, wrote a book called Necessary Losses. It was psychoanalytic in nature, which made my head spin. Why, I wondered, are losses “necessary?” Personally, I would have preferred them to be optional.

Buddha may have asked the same questions when he set out on his quest for enlightenment. Why must we lose everything that matters to us—love, youth, health, beauty, security, even life? His answer: impermanence. Everything in life is in flux, constantly changing, ephemeral. In other words, nothing lasts.

Frankly, I don’t find that very comforting thought. Yet, it is so obviously true. I can’t think of anything that stays the same even from one moment to the next. When I am able to sit very still for even a short time, I become aware of the subtle changes taking place all around me. Even my thoughts come and go, capturing my attention, then dissolving—a perfect example of impermanence.