Just like any other salmons, a Pacific Salmon will swim back to the upstream for spawning. We know that its journey is a hard one — the road is indeed very long, it needs to go against the current, and of course there are predators lurking for them. But of all these hardships that a salmon should face, the most fascinating story for me isn’t the thing happens on its way. I learned that a Pacific Salmon will die after spawning. Some said it dies from exhaustion. While this could be a poignant story of a fish, we’d probably love to shift our view if we see what’s going to happen next. After it decays, the salmon becomes the source of nutrients for their babies, the insects, river birds, and even the terrestrial trees near the river. It releases the collected nutrients from the ocean to the freshwater ecosystem. Scientists name this as ‘Great Nutrient Cycle’.
Would you like to live a life just to find yourself die at the end — even to die from exhaustion? Would you like to go through a rough journey so that other individuals will be able to take your place, one day?
I thought it’s very easy to live the “you’re not the center of everything” motto. Yes, I’ve read articles and books, listened to podcasts, watched videos — all said “you’re not the center of everything” — that we’re never once someone of importance, that there are 7 billions of human beings roaming around the globe, that the universe is vast, hence it’s just a silly idea to think that an individual presence is significant for other individuals — and for the earth. While this motto gives us a sense of relief and helps us control our ego, I feel stuck.
I want my existence to be of importance. I don’t need for everyone to recognize my presence. One or two persons are enough. I want to be a person who creates something useful — something that can help other people, even just a little bit. I don’t wish to be an “impactful person”, or “the inspiring person”, or any other titles this modern world could give. I just want to make sure that I’ve ever done something right — that I’ve ever put a smile on someone’s face. I don’t know if that’s too much to ask for a person who lives in the middle of this crowded world of seven billion people and a vast universe. But to be blatantly honest on this writing, whenever I’m thinking about if I’m allowed to expect such thing, the notion of “you’re not the center of everything” makes me feel like I’m a fraud. I wonder, is the existence of an individual is clearly not significant, so so not significant we even need permission to feel?
It was the Pacific Salmon that unveils another perspective of looking at this problem (yes, a fish. Mother Nature teaches us in the way we ourselves could never think about. You should try). During the ‘Salmon Run’ (the thousand kilometers migration from the ocean to the upstream), salmon always go with a group — a big number. Although they swim as an individual, they migrate collectively — as a big group.
After I learned about this fact, I realized that the existence of individual doesn’t always have to be analyzed on the individual level only, but we could look at it on the collective level. I even think that trying to understand the importance of individual’s existence from the collective perspective is more helpful. The salmon doesn’t help other salmons swim directly. They do it by themselves, but together. Why would they do it together? A preliminary research finding back in 2013 showed that when there’s more of them, the less of the salmon that left astray. Working in groups help them to find their nest (the familiar river which is proven to be safe for their eggs) hence they have better direction. I think that’s also the case of human individuals. An individual is not the center of everything — that’s true. But the existence of each individual is significant for other humans as a species. The humans’ ability to work in groups is the claw to the tiger or beak to the parrot. It’s something natural. It doesn’t need a recognition as it goes without saying. We navigate how we want to live our lives collectively, whether we realize it or not.
I’ve read an article that said you can give a meaning to life (that’s up to you) but you need to realize that life has no inherent meaning — and asking the meaning of life is as pointless as asking the meaning of water, or stone, or fire; and I wholeheartedly agree with that point. I’m not asking for purpose or meaning. I’ve just discovered that I need to feel connected with these massive species we called as Homo sapiens. I put no worries in the size of things that I do, as long as I know it supports the collective effort that we’ve been doing to take care of our home (re: the earth), our neighbors (re: other creatures, too), and ourselves. To do that, just like the salmon, I need to show up.
And I show, and am showing, up. My existence has no meaning for most people in this earth, even people who knows my name or face will forget me someday, the world will continue to move, and people will find happiness in their own way.
They said I need to do more fun stuff, that I need to be happy, that I need to be this and that so I can experience life to the fullest. They said life’s too short, I can’t be who I am otherwise I will waste my time here.
Probably they’re right. I’m not good at having fun and finding happiness.
But I know that there’s this life that I have within me, and even if it’s only temporary — I am committed to it. Until the time has come for me to go back to where I belong, I will never run. I’m not afraid of being unhappy — because I know, somehow, I will, it just takes a different form, a different time, and I know one can’t be happy all the time. I’m not afraid to be who I am — a network of identities and behaviors. I will continue to show up.
And I think, so far, I’ve done a good job.
If you happen to feel the same thing — when it seems like everyone is very interested in telling how others should live their lives — and you’re still here, you too, have done a good job.
Take no pity; let’s swim for another day to add something to this joint efforts.
It takes no special thing to do something important.
