Buddhist monks have a practice known as sand mandalas. They make elaborate and beautiful mandalas that take days to complete, but they make them from sand. After a certain length of time they destroy them in an effort to express, experience and surrender to the impermanence of existence.
I spent forty minutes this morning building an elaborate train track with my nephew that he happily played with for about fifteen minutes before bulldozing it to bits. He did the same thing with the Lego towers we built that afternoon. I was shocked by how irritated I was with him when he did it the first time. But fortunately I caught myself, and it made me laugh so hard.
Tonight I’m just very grateful for the reminder that destruction can be every bit as creative as building. Very grateful indeed.