One beautiful principle of life is its cyclical nature. Take water for example.
Moisture, having been brought to the skies from below through evaporation, condenses into clouds.
Growing in density until too heavy to remain, the vapor condenses and descends to the Earth as rain, hail or snow.
Once on the Earth it may find itself in many places.
It may land in a lake.
It may roam the Earth’s rivers.
Perhaps it sinks slowly into the soil.
Yet once at ground level, it is only a matter of time before it is called to participate and engage in the processes of life.
A plant may take in moisture from the soil with its roots.
Man may make a well and retrieve water from above.
An elephant may use its trunk and cool itself at the nearest watering hole on a scorching day.
Nevertheless, no matter how long it takes, inevitably the sun does its handiwork.
With its heat the sun calls life’s beloved ally to ascend back to the skies and sit as clouds above.
In the same way that water displays this perpetual nature so do many other things in this world.
Consider cycles governed by the orbital nature of the heavenly bodies.
The waves wax and wane each day.
At times revealing shallow pools with incredible creatures.
At others obscuring the secrets and surprises of the shore.
Envision the animals. Birds, mammals, and others often forage at dawn when things are coolest.
Surrounding times of peak heat they will likely seek refuge, looking to minimize the effects of the sun.
Once things cool in the evening, activity may pick up again before calming down for the night. A daily pattern completed.
The seasons come and go without fail, gifting humanity with regular times for both work and play, celebration and hibernation.
Spring arises from the icy depths of winter to reveal vibrant landscapes, vivid colors and new life.
As the sun grows in intensity it presents a more present strain on life. Fall arrives and with it plants stop producing fruit, leaves both shed and change color, and resources are conserved for tough times ahead.
Knowing that across the universe there are moons orbiting planets, planets stars, and entire solar systems maintaining orbits to form galaxies, confidence can be found in trusting that similar seasonal processes are at work far beyond Earth.
Life itself is a series of self perpetuating stages.
Imagine the maple tree.
The maple gives birth to a seed.
The seed sprouts from the soil as a sapling and with time reaches the heights of a mature maple.
Through a process of pollination this tree is then able to produce a seed of its own. And the cycle of life begins again.
A mushroom releases spores through its gills.
Upon favorable conditions, a spore will become active and begin absorbing water and nutrients.
As the spore grows into the body of a mushroom, a cap eventually penetrates atop the Earth’s surface.
And it becomes only a matter of time until the process renews itself.
A tadpole wiggles its way out of a clear, jelly like egg.
Hind legs emerge from a fish-like form. Before long two front legs have developed. The tale disappears. A full grown frog has become.
Once metamorphosis is achieved, with good fitness and fortunate circumstance, each has the chance to contribute to the next generation. And we reach the beginning once again.
Nature is continually emerging, returning and reemerging, maintaining an eternal flux of existence, balancing its expression of forms.
And does this realization not beg the question, “Might we also have some participation in this seemingly eternal, wheel of life?”
Despite our seemingly minuscule existence, is it possible we too will one day rise to the heavens? Only to fall back to density and roam the Earth once again?
Could life be but a single day in our soul’s existence? And death but a single night?
Maybe each of us is but a tiny tadpole setting off from its egg.
Each set on a journey of metamorphosis.
Each destined to reach a greater form.
Perhaps our existence is grander than we perceive.