We are not really living unless we are periodically dying.
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… metabolism means: I subsist on what becomes my body, and I exhale into the air what was my body. I am the grain of the field that died for me, and I die constantly and transform myself into what the plants inhale, such that my body becomes their new bodies. The organism is a closed being, and at the same time matter flows through it. Matter drifts through the bodies of a vast array of organisms without ever being identical with them. A carbon atom in the calm grasses of the meadow was once a part of the air, and before that an insect, fruit, perhaps a human body, its breath, perhaps me.
Words and image from my Instagram project @the_wild_nun
i love meditating on things like this. the expression of unity in plurality, death and letting go feeding life and building up in an endless, magical cycle, part of me being part of everything that is and ever has been and vice versa...
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