Droplets in a Wave

I know that in nature, death is necessary for life. But to know it and feel it are two different things. I can already feel how an animal’s death is part of that flux, but my own, or my fellow humans’, that’s another matter, and looking back on history I can’t help feeling involved in their lives and deaths, as anyone does I suppose. But to the gods who would merely perceive it all, and let it unfold, as they are looking on the scale of entire worlds, and the death of any of us is to them what the death of any of our cells is to us, the lives and deaths forming a rhythm, like a wave, each wave flowing over the next and then back into the next, and we are just drops of water, never mind what water is bounded by which drop, because that doesn’t make it ours.

I’m just beginning to feel that, now, how entire species could be seen as waves. For some reason, though, I don’t imagine ourselves so much as waves but as fungi, of all things. The image just pops into my head: a time lapse of myriad tiny fruiting bodies all growing out of the same mycelium, growing and decaying each fall, each moving in its own way, yet still forming part of something greater that moves through them. I guess fungi are just generally a good analogy for how something can have the duality of being both separate and connected.

I feel like I have no choice at this point in my life but to move on to a new level of detachment. It’s like I came to a dead end and when I found there is no way forward, the only way to go is up. I honestly don’t know if this is good or bad, and I don’t really care either: it’s just who I am, and who I am becoming. I’ve never had any choice but trusting in where the flux leads me. I imagine it’s just a phase, and will become subsumed into a still more nuanced way of perception.