Mindfulness of Impermanence: A Practical Guide to Letting Go of Worry
We all know the feeling: that knot in the stomach, the racing thoughts, the buzzing anxiety that won't quite let go. Maybe it's about something real and immediate, or maybe—if we're honest—it's about something our minds have amplified far beyond its actual threat. The question isn't whether we experience worry and anxiety (we all do), but rather: what can we do when these feelings become excessive and start diminishing the quality of our lives?
One of the most powerful tools I've found for working with anxiety comes from a core Buddhist teaching: impermanence. While I use many practices—somatic awareness, compassion meditation, general mindfulness—reflecting on impermanence offers a unique gateway into releasing our grip on worry. It's both profoundly simple and surprisingly transformative.
What Is Impermanence?
Impermanence is one of the foundational teachings in Buddhism. In the Mahayana tradition, we speak of it as the first of the Four Seals, alongside dukkha (suffering), emptiness or non-duality, and nirvana (freedom from suffering). In other Buddhist traditions, it appears as the first of the Three Characteristics or Three Marks.
At its heart, impermanence is both a profound philosophical truth and an incredibly practical tool. The Buddhist path, stripped of religious overlay, is essentially a set of teachings and practices to help us see how things actually are. And impermanence is one of the most accessible gateways into that seeing.
Here's what makes it so accessible: while we can't directly perceive moment-to-moment change, we can easily infer it. We see our bodies age over time. We watch a bitten apple turn brown, a banana spot and soften. We witness the results of impermanence all around us. As meditators deepen their practice, they learn to perceive this change moment by moment. But even before we reach that level of direct perception, simply acknowledging that everything is changing all the time becomes profoundly helpful.
Ground-Level Practice: Everything Changes
When we're caught up in stress or worry, we can start with this basic truth: whatever we're anxious about will inevitably change.
This isn't always bad news—sometimes it's very good news. Worried you're getting sick? That cold will pass. You'll heal, get the medicine you need, and be back to full steam. Had a disappointing experience—maybe those highly-reviewed tacos weren't so great after all? You'll forget about it and find better tacos next time.
These might sound like silly examples, but they point to something real. We can remind ourselves: "This is in the nature of change." Whether it's a situation we're resisting, something we have aversion to, or something we don't like—it will change, just like weather changes, just like clouds move through the sky. Nothing stays still. Nothing stays static.
Recognizing this truth about our anxiety itself is key: we don't have to hold onto or feed the worry. The situation will shift on its own.
Now, I'll be honest—sometimes this is easier said than done. I often need to engage somatic practices to ground myself and bring down the buzzy energy that accompanies anxiety. But on the level of thought, reflecting on impermanence can offer real relief, at least in the short term.
Deeper Practice: Moment-to-Moment Change
As we cultivate meditative awareness, we start to recognize more subtle forms of impermanence. Through simple awareness, we can watch the nature of sensations, moods, emotions, and thoughts—noticing how everything is constantly shifting and changing. Maybe things don't change into what we want, but we can observe that moment by moment, nothing stays the same.
When we really work with this in meditation over time, it becomes difficult to find any solid place to land and say, "This is it." For some people, that might sound scary. Why would we want that kind of groundlessness?
But here's the thing: when we learn to flow with impermanence, it's like we stop swimming upstream. So much of our anxiety, worry, and fear comes from swimming against the current without even realizing it. When we learn to go with the flow of the water and trust in that endless stream, we can move with impermanence rather than fighting it.
This applies to many situations in life, including the undesirable ones. Aging, for instance, is tough for most of us. Many people would give a lot to be young again. I understand that completely. But we can learn to respect impermanence and stop resisting or fighting against its stream.
Impermanence as Hope: You Can Change
Here's another crucial dimension: impermanence means we can change things.
Sometimes my anxiety connects to habit patterns—those stressful behaviors I keep repeating that are really difficult to break. I know they're not good for me, but they feel stuck, rigid, almost like "just who I am." I'm guessing you have some of these patterns too.
But here's what we can recognize: these patterns are also in the nature of change. What looks stuck and solid, what we've personalized as "me," is actually never the same. It may appear the same and repeat in similar dynamics, but it's impossible for it to be truly identical, because every moment is new. Every moment is fresh. Our physical bodies are changing constantly—cells regenerating, dying, regenerating. The same goes for our thought patterns and beliefs about ourselves and others.
Yes, these patterns can stagnate, looking similar and causing harm for ourselves and others. But when we remember their impermanence, we also remember the possibility to transform and change them.
That's the key insight: these patterns are changeable because their nature is change. We're learning to flow, to become more fluid in our lives. We're learning to allow ice to become water—because that's what ice fundamentally is. The nature of ice is water, nothing else. When conditions keep it frozen, it won't turn to water. But we can bring in different conditions, make shifts that allow it to become what it already is. Even when we're struggling, the ice already is water. The possibility is already there.
Releasing the Grip
These reflections on impermanence work in very practical, everyday ways. Traditional Buddhism goes deep into the impermanence of the body, self, emotions, and sensations, and those meditations are certainly helpful for working with worry and anxiety. But I find myself applying impermanence more informally, in the moment, throughout my days.
When something feels solid—an emotional experience, a perception, a worry—and it's painful or stressful, I remember its impermanence. That remembering creates space. Some loosening happens.
Here's what I've noticed: sometimes we don't let things change. We're constantly creating the situation anew, making it look like it's staying the same. But actually, we're just holding onto it, gripping it tight. When we recognize the impermanence of a situation, an experience, an emotion, we start to release those hooks of clinging.
Clinging is what keeps situations feeling persistent and unchanging. But the truth is, they are changing—we're just recreating them moment by moment through our grip. When we release that clinging, we allow the ice to start melting. We become more fluid in our lives, whatever the situation might be.
An Invitation
This is what I've noticed in my own life. I invite you to explore whether it applies to yours. Impermanence isn't just a Buddhist concept to study—it's a lived reality we can work with, a tool we can use when anxiety and worry threaten to overwhelm us.
The next time you find yourself caught in worry, try pausing to remember: this will change. Everything changes. And in that remembering, you might just find the grip loosening, the anxiety softening, and a little more space to breathe.

