Interconnectedness
Each precious particle that sheds naturally off you is swiftly swept up by the wind, mysteriously disappearing into the mud of the forest. Each individual molecule of the specific tissues of your organs consistently regenerates itself ranging from a few days to several months, depending on the organ in question.
Consider the famous paradox of the ship — if you replace one piece of an original ship, is that ship still the same ship? If you replace 2–8 planks, is it still the same ship? What if over a 100 year period of time, every single plank was eventually replaced, would that still be considered to be the same very ship?
What gives this ship an identity? Similarly, what gives a human their identity, if all its cells are replenished in a handful of years? The cerebral cortex isn’t replaced after the cells die, then is it alone the key to our identity?
Have you ever wondered about your significant cells taken by the river further flowing into the ocean? Small parts of you, on your memorable vacation, where you engaged with a culture that delicately reshaped your heart, carefully carried to lands where the molecules that were once you, will transform into new forms, brilliant creatures and extraordinary bouquets of colourful flowers.
Every wash of the hands is a connection to the swiftly spinning world.
Every hair brushing, an indirect web of intricate humans whose views you strongly disagree with.
Every brush of the face, scratch of an itch, every skin cell that detaches from your soft skin smoothly segues its way to bond you with its every mountain throughout the continents, every emerald frog in a crystal blue lake.
Every significant atom, utilized in a universal pact. How many folks lived through you, how many imported fruits and vegetables that grew on far away fields built you, and pieces of you, constructed a creative landscape, you’ll never know where you traveled without leaving your home.
