I say to myself “This too shall pass” as a means of mentally surviving life’s battles. It doesn’t always provide ultimate comfort, but it helps. The flip-side of this philosophy, that wonderful things/people/places/experiences are also temporary, is unsettling my summer. I find myself melancholy in the middle of a great experience, through understanding fully its impermanence. The phrase that gets me through the hard times casts a shadow on my good days. Why must this blissful summer ever end?