My Companion Left Last Night (He Was Only an Inch Tall)

The Universe provides another beautiful lesson in impermanence

I lost him.

About an inch tall, he was a die-cast Buddha that I carried in my pocket for more than a decade.

He came into my life at the end of a magical evening, when I bought him from a specialty shop tucked between two restaurants in a busy tourist area at the base of the foothills.

For the next 10+ years, wherever I went—work, cycling, travel—he accompanied me. Whenever I was anxious, depressed, or overwhelmed, I’d reach in my pocket and fidget with him as a reminder to pause, breathe, and return to the present moment.

I knew him more by touch than sight; the etched pattern on his back, his hands folded in his lap, his textured head.

But last night, when I reached into my pocket, his familiar heaviness was absent.

At first, I panicked. But after a moment of frantic searching, I remembered what he helped me understand:

I arrived here with nothing, and I will leave here with nothing. Why cling to anything in between?

That only leads to suffering. And I’ve already suffered enough over the last two years to fill multiple lifetimes.

Instead, I thanked The Universe for stripping away even more of what I think I need to be happy. Comfortable. Content.

Physical things are just stuff, but the ability to step back instead of reacting—practicing mindful awareness in the real world—is priceless.

So, I’m deeply grateful, my tiny Buddha, wherever you are, for the immeasurable gift. May you find your way into someone else’s pocket, and present them with the same awareness you’ve helped me form.

Gassho 🙏