Contemplating Life & Death (Part 3)

“All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.” - St. Francis Of Assisi

In part one of this series, I suggested that observing the natural world seems to reveal a preference for the quantity of life more so than the quality of life. Plants and animals fight to survive long enough to make more of their own kind. Reproduction guides the evolutionary strategy for all species on the planet, pushing biological forms to display their unique beauty in order to produce another generation of life. But despite the beauty we might observe, nature is full of disease, death, and brutality which push against the flourishing of individual life. On the surface, it often feels like every lifeform is only trying to destroy another. This endless struggle to survive could make us wonder if there is any inherent value to an individual life at all.

But what if beauty holds the answer? What are we to make of the beauty in nature that exists among the struggles? One could conclude that beauty exists purely in service of animal reproduction, like the colorful feather train of a peacock displayed during their courtship rituals. While this may encourage reproduction for the peahen, it doesn't explain why humans perceive beauty in these feathers. We also perceive beauty in inanimate displays of nature like the sunrise, a rainbow, or a range of mountains. Yet beauty isn't limited to displays of color. Often it's the movement we observe in nature that captures our attention, like the changing of seasons or morphing cloud formations. The beauty of color and movement gives life greater depth and quality even as it reminds us that life, or at least this particular expression of it, is ever fleeting.

"To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same field, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before, and which shall never be seen again." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Beauty can be found in anything that opens our eyes to life and rebirth. A scorched forest rarely inspires an artist until the first sign of new growth when a green leaf pushes through the ashes. Or like the winds sculpting the sands of an otherwise lifeless desert, these movements of nature remind us that nothing remains unchanged. It's all part of the eternal dance of the universe, ever moving and evolving. The death of a star provides the substance for new stars and planets. A dying plant goes to seed to produce new growth. This dance, even if moving too slowly for us to perceive, draws us into the deathless beauty of life. Through our senses we become both witnesses and participants in this dance, and in this dance an infinite depth to life becomes available to us. Beauty becomes a sign that life has no limitations or boundaries because life persists and flourishes in an infinite number of expressions, including what we are now.

Whether we are looking through a telescope into the cosmos, or looking through a microscope into a single cell, there is beauty all the way up and all the way down, from beginning to end. Just as the cells of our body die and regenerate, we make up the body of the universe. We are the expression of beauty it chooses to display now, so why waste the opportunity? This is our moment to join the dance.

"Nothing is quite beautiful alone: nothing but is beautiful in the whole." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Which part of this dance do we cling to? Do we cling to what our life is now or a memory of how it was and miss where the dance is leading us? Or do we cling to an idea of how this dance could be different and miss the beauty of what is happening right now? Or does our fear of the end of the song keep up from dancing at all? No, surrender is the only way to dance, clinging neither to where we were or where we hope to be. Instead we stay present to the flow of movement and beauty that presently surrounds us. Both witnessing and participating. Both receiving life and giving life. Inhaling beauty and exhaling beauty. This is a dance that we can join for as long as we'd like.