May next year be full of meaningful moments

“Our revels are now ended.” As another year slips away, we can look to Prospero’s famous words from The Tempest for some wisdom. That passage is considered one of Shakespeare’s most poignant reflections on the nature of life, art, and impermanence.

The end of a year is a good time to reflect on our “revels.” We worked hard; we enjoyed ourselves. We advanced somewhat; we regressed a little; and often we just stood still. We clocked some numbers; we became materially better off. There was drama, disruption, and the relentless ticking of the clock.

After his first line, Shakespeare whacks us with a sobering truth: we were all just performers in a play, no matter how real our roles seemed and felt to us!

“These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits and

Are melted into air, into thin air…”

The play dissolves into nothing, and so do we. The towers we build, the temples we consecrate, the lives we painstakingly shape—they all melt away. Shakespeare lays bare an uncomfortable truth: our existence, for all its striving and celebration, is ephemeral. And he doesn’t stop there. The bad news continues:

“The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind.”

Our joys, our celebrations, even our existence—all are ephemeral. Take that bucket of cold water right in the face, and deal with it. Everything we cherish—our buildings, our achievements, our relationships—will eventually dissolve.

“We are such stuff 

As dreams are made on, and our little life 

Is rounded with a sleep.”

Life, he says, is a dream. Fleeting, insubstantial, impossible to hold onto. This echoes so many ancient religious teachings. The idea of life as an illusion—“maya”—should come as no surprise to Hindus, Buddhists, or Jains. Life, according to these traditions, is not what it seems; it is a passing projection, a flickering shadow on the wall. But how many of us truly comprehend this? The Bible, in James 4:14, has this message: “What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” Islam, too, captures this fleeting quality: “The life of this world is nothing but play and amusement.”

Across these traditions, there is a shared recognition of the impermanence of life and a call to look beyond its fleeting appearances. Whether viewed as a mist, a dream, or an illusion, the wisdom lies in recognizing the beauty of transience and seeking what is eternal—be it spiritual truth, connection, or divine purpose.

So, what are we to do with this wisdom—that nothing lasts, and everything is ultimately a dream? That’s the paradox of life. The superficial stuff—the palaces and pageantry—may dissolve, but there is also meaningful stuff afoot. Death is not an ending to be feared but the natural conclusion of a transient journey. And if permanence is an illusion, then the only truth lies in how we live this moment—here, now. Yesterday is a shadow, tomorrow a mirage. Only this heartbeat is real, vivid, and alive.

It is in the present moment that life reveals its hidden meanings. In the now, we recognize life as connection—to ourselves and to others. The web of relationships we build nourishes us and creates a shared humanity. In the now, we see the stunning beauty of the ordinary: the dappled sunlight falling through the leaves, the gurgle of a child’s laugh, the athletic guile of a young cat. These moments, fleeting as they are, contain life’s deepest joys.

In the now, we also embrace life as mystery. It is unknowable, and that is a gift. Not everything can be solved or understood, and that humility keeps us open to wonder. Knowing that not every problem is ours to fix, and not every outcome ours to control, creates space for awe—the kind that leaves us breathless under a starry sky or moved by a stranger’s unexpected kindness.

This is where the wisdom of impermanence leads us: to the present moment. Life is not about permanence; it is about presence. It is about waking up from the dreamlike stupor of worrying over the past or obsessing about the future. To live fully is to embrace the now—to shed the illusions of control and permanence and see life as it is: raw, fleeting, and layered with meaning.

We sit with our families, grounded in the quiet rhythms of shared lives. We exchange earnest thoughts with colleagues and friends who truly matter. We tend to our businesses as best we can. We navigate our work and responsibilities with intention, handling what needs to be done. These moments are not distractions from life—they are life. By fully inhabiting them, we can uncover the gifts they already hold, instead of letting our minds drift to places that don’t exist.

Thank you for your company this past year, which is now a dream. I wish for you many moments of wakeful wonder in the year to come.

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