“This river I stand in is not the river I stepped in.”
The world around me moves in one direction – always westward towards tomorrow. What was ever fades, degrades, dissolves. Sunrise, sunset. This air I breathe has passed through billions of moments, plants, insects, bodies. Breathed in, processed, metabolized, exhaled, exuded, reprocessed.
This place I sit unmoving – is moving itself around sun and across the universe. I am at rest in motion. This water I drink has been consumed countless times, touched countless lips, passed through uncounted orifices and pores. Drifted over every continent, flowed in rivers long forgotten.
And what of this food? Grow in dirt formed from space dust – containing atoms blasted from the death of stars. Each particle, mineral, every nutrient being a recycled bit of another living thing long dead and forgotten. Soil nurtured by composted wastes of rotten fruit and the detritus of the living past.
Every thing that sustains me now – once sustained another living thing. How can I own anything when it has all been borrowed from the yesterday world that was here before I was even a possibility?