Millions of fish eaten alive

Yesterday, I was watching a BBC documentary, and at one point, there was a spectacular view of millions or even billions of sardines rising from the deep ocean to the surface. The exact moment the sardines reached the surface, predators appeared: sea lions, sharks, large predatory fish, dolphins, and even a whale. They attacked the shoal of sardines from all sides. You could see this mass of little fish becoming smaller and smaller, growing increasingly panicked until they were nothing more than a tight ball of fish. Finally, a whale swallowed the remaining group alive in a single mouthful. Afterwards, the predators swam away, leaving the water completely empty.

This is the link to the scene on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okacULqnDDQ

I meditated deeply on this scene because it scared me to death. I know that nature has its own rules, and I know those predators are just animals trying to survive, exactly like the sardines. However, watching the scene made me wonder: what is life for a sardine? Do they exist just to be eaten alive? Initially, I felt terrified by the perspective of having no greater meaning in life than becoming food for another creature. At first, I thought, "Well, I am human, so no sharks or wild creatures will eat me alive." But then I corrected myself, realizing that when I die, my corpse will still be eaten by worms and bacteria. I felt completely incapable of escaping my role as food in the world's complex food chain. This brought me face-to-face with my real fear: the idea of being part of a mass society that gets destroyed by a massive natural event, just like those little fish. As always, the real fear was how I might die, rather than death itself which is just like falling asleep. I feared dying in a pandemic, an earthquake, a storm, or a hurricane. These modern natural disasters are no longer animal predators, but they can still wipe us out just like the sardines eaten alive. During my meditation, I eventually arrived at a familiar state of mind where I envisioned myself as a golden Buddha, and the fear disappeared. I felt a sense of acceptance and heard a simple, reassuring question: "Who cares? When you die, you die." This created a peaceful distance between myself and the sardines. I then considered what those animals actually feel: nothing. They experience the immediate, instinctual fear of the classic predator-and-prey dynamic, but they do not suffer the psychological weight of a human mind. They don't constantly generate existential questions or view nature's inherent design as barbaric. In a way, those sardines were more Buddhist than I am. They were perfectly capable of experiencing their reality, even extermination by predators, without existential resistance.

Ultimately, I concluded that nature exists in a permanent state of meditative acceptance. Animals simply exist without questioning their purpose. They live out their lives completely, even if those lives are short, filled with danger, and destined to end in death.

What do you think about it? If your own Buddhist journey has given you a different perspective on the situation of the sardines, you are welcome to share it. If you want to correct me, you are welcome to do that too.