Everything is in motion.
From the ongoing expansion of the universe
with its innumerable galaxies whirling around supermassive black holes,
to the Earth's revolution around the sun,
we know of nothing in our vast cosmos that is entirely static.
Even at the tiniest subatomic levels,
there are indeterminate fluctuations of energy that never stop moving.
Physicists call them quantum fluctuations.
But what is movement?
The most common definition is that movement occurs
when something moves from one point to another in space and time.
But what if space and time are also moving outward in all directions
as the universe expands?
What if the fabric of spacetime itself is woven
from the same energetic fluctuations as the universe?
It means that there are no fixed points in space or time,
and that the entire cosmos is continually changing.
It also means that movement is only relative to other movements,
and not to any fixed points in space or time.
Yet, if everything is in motion, why do things seem relatively stable?
Why do we think of movement as going from one point to another?
The answer takes us back to the beginning of the universe.
Our universe began as a hot and dense region of spacetime
13.8 billion years ago,
that has been spreading out and cooling ever since.
This is what physicists call entropy.
As the cosmos spreads out,
higher energy concentrations slowly dissolve
and mix like tendrils of cream and coffee until everything is thoroughly mixed.
This process of spreading out creates patterns such as stars and spiral galaxies
that persist and dissipate their energy as long as they have enough fuel.
Just like an eddy of water spiraling down your bathtub drain, or a living organism,
when they run out of energy, their forms dissolve.
Scientists call these metastable states.
At every scale of reality, energy flows and matter cycles back and forth.
Solids vibrate slowly close together,
liquids vibrate faster and farther apart,
and gases even more.
Why is this so important?
Many people, including philosophers,
tend to think of reality as made of discrete things and people.
But there are no things or people.
There are only processes and patterns in motion.
Nouns or conceptual shortcuts for movements.
They are abstractions that help us wash the dishes and build skyscrapers.
People and things are only the tip of nature's iceberg.
Instead of looking at the world through the pinhole of discrete things,
what if we focused on movements and processes?
This could have implications across scales.
Perhaps it could even help us avoid a few problems.
For instance, ecological systems are not made
of discrete plants, animals, and resources.
They are vast webs of interconnected processes.
When people destroy one part of an ecological process,
it can negatively affect the whole system in unpredictable ways.
By not taking the entangled movement of metastable ecology seriously,
various groups of people have inadvertently hastened
mass extinction and climate change.
Similarly, societies are not made of discrete people.
When one part of a social process is damaged by social and economic inequality,
the effects ripple through the whole system of social circulation
like a wave.
For instance, global economic inequality
creates patterns of migration that make wealthy countries richer
by taking workers away from poorer countries.
Borders are violent and failing attempts to control the consequences
of not taking inequality, mobility, and social feedback loops seriously.
Each person is also a process.
We consume energy, circulate it through our bodies, and release it.
Our brains and nervous systems
use this energy to continually rewire themselves
in a process scientists call neuroplasticity.
People are not one-dimensional characters with immutable identities.
We are works in progress
continually experimenting with different ways of being.
When we treat people like discrete and inflexible individuals,
or when others treat us this way,
it can create psychological distress and illness.
What else are we missing by using conceptual shortcuts
without paying attention to the processes underneath?
What if we thought of the world as processes and patterns in motion
instead of thinking of people and things?
It might just change everything.