In science, nothing really ends. It just recycles.
The more I study biology, the more I notice that life doesn’t run in a straight line from birth to death. In the big picture it is a part of a bigger loop. So organisms exist as part of a cycle. In a deeper way they teach us how to live, fail, fall, and start all over again.
The carbon cycle, for example, isn’t just about plants breathing in carbon dioxide and animals breathing it out, sharing the same air. It’s about change and exchange, moving through environments forging interconnections, and returning again in new roles. When one ends, another life form springs up.
Look at the Krebs cycle for cellular respiration, certainly one of the most difficult ones as a student to memorise. Yet, if we focus just on the big picture it symbolises a perfect choreography of molecules with no single starting or ending point, but just a chain of reactions, each dependent on the last.
These life-loops are not just scientific. They’re personal too.
As a student juggling academics, leadership, and sports, I’ve found myself caught in my own versions of these cycles. I’ve burned out, mentally exhausted from trying to balance internal assessments, football practice, late-night article drafts, and early-morning tests. There have been weeks where I felt I had nothing left to give and felt flat.
Then, recovery begins. Slowly. A walk in nature. A good playlist. The first time I pick up my football again after rest, my body remembers. The muscles don’t rebel anymore. The brain stops buzzing. I breathe. I loop back.
Football, too, is a cycle. Training and recovery. Injury and comeback. Win, lose, learn. Whether it’s preparing for a national match or simply practicing alone at odd hours in the night, I’m in sync with it. I feel most alive.
Even my academic journey has cycled. From early curiosity to self-doubt, from overwhelming pressure to finding joy again in the why of things. I’ve realized that growth doesn’t always look like progress. Sometimes, it means going back to review concepts, and rethink your approach.
Cycles build in a second chance. A feedback loop.
Maybe that’s why I find such comfort in them. So if the leaf that falls becomes soil, the energy you lose converts to another form, then the cycle continues.
They teach me that setbacks aren’t endpoints. They are just part of my process.
And if life loops, so does learning. So does purpose. Eventually we all become stronger than before.
