It was incredible to think that the people that meant the most to you have been dead for over a half a decade or much more? How tenuous life is. The cycle of a generation of twenty years within which so much can be accomplished both good and not. That civilization can go on by inertia alone based on collective experience. That existence is as much taken from recollection as initiation. Survival demanded by simple existence its own reward. Insights the mileposts found along the way. Not just stone pyramids or jet aircraft to buzz about the entire circumference of the planet. But in a larger sense of awareness in the potential scale of the individual biped transformed into a discrete hive. Normalization of the species that thrust of a magnified concern for maintaining social stability but also the precursor of its own suicidal tendency to overreach the boundaries imposed by the natural chaos of its planetary boundaries. I suppose that this sense of progression can be extended to almost any species. The inherent personality of any life form determining the rules governing its viability over time. Spiders possibly being their own worse enemy while ants posing a diametrically opposite proposition in terms of a sheltering community. Six legs versus eight? Is there something inherent suggested by the subtleties of movement that predestines the fate of either? Two legs walking upright versus four paws on the ground. Eyes facing forward versus a nose to the ground. Those societies that have endured cycles of crippling devastation’s forming a sense of existential distrust versus those that have met the challenge of the conquest of nature with industrial production. Security based on following the general consensus as opposed to single individuals making up a plan of action based upon adapting to present circumstances. Dogmas or living by one’s wits? History or innovation? Each path having its own unique inherent dangers. And in that larger universal conundrum, destined equally to find growth but just as surely find a finality of destruction and an erasure of the fact of ever having been. That motive force being its own necessity posing along the way its own mystery. No sense of its beginning or the scenario of a complete and final empty void.
That is the reason that all might be thankful for simply being alive?