I often think about organisms that seem to have no life other than hatch, breed, die, and I get overwhelmed by like... cosmic confusion? Like, a mayfly. Or a bee. Or a salmon. What is the point of that organism's life? Passing on your genetic material, sure, but to what end?

Like, I watch bees work themselves to death storing honey for the winter... for what? The colony as a whole will survive, but then that next generation of bees will just be living long enough to ensure that new bees can be born, keep the colony alive, then die in turn. The bees get nothing from it. The colony gets to live, but it's not an organism, it has no thoughts or feelings, so it's not like it's aware that it gets to live. A beehive cannot enjoy its own perpetuation.

I know that this is extremely anthropocentric. Or vertebrate-centric? But like, other animals enjoy life while they live it. Even something as short-lives as a little frog can chill on a lily pad in between mating and fleeing. A cow can play with its cow friends. That is a reason to live. A bee or a mayfly though, does not really have individual sentience. It exists as an extension of a group impulse, a tiny living nerve making up a whole. But that whole can't feel or think, so what's the point of it?!

Logically I know that it's all biology and instinct, that there is no "why" or "use" or "purpose" to an anthill or bee colony, but emotionally I cannot wrap my mind around that at all. Why did a thing evolve a life cycle that is solely devoted to continuing its own existence? I hate this.