There is the complexity of life itself. And there are we, the individual humans. Wherever and however we are born, we all have more or less the same biological journey ahead of us. None is spared from it. We are babies, we are kids, we are teenagers, we are young professionals, we have a career, we take it easy, we retire, we are old people, and then we die. Of course, the variability of human life is significant. However, as we navigate life, the steps going up the aging ladder remain more or less the same. Here is my point and the reason why I took this photo. We can not understand the complexity of our world, and even less so with this ever-shifting perspective on it. A kid understands the world differently from a 90-year-old person. We call this a generation. Each birth is a blank page in our history. And this blank page can be filled differently by the stories we tell ourselves. That’s why humans are the most unreliable species on this planet; they are vulnerable to good stories and to bad stories. We can fall into a life of suffering or prosperity, like a small plant in a flowerpot growing to the capacity of the given space. Even if it grows large, it will stop bearing fruit at one point and crumble into nothing. Our human history seems to start anew each time with a loud cry of a newborn baby—the circle of life.