Today's theme is duality: two things can be true about any given thing.

If you've been here a little while, you'll know I flirt with beliefs about something "more" going on here in the universe.

A common reaction to which is to point out explanations of what we can clearly see is going on—all the beautifully random chaos and experimentation and evolution that continues to build this world and others.

That's a lot of "how—" describing the phenomena of paint being thrown. It does not satisfy the question "what is this?" It definitely doesn't touch any "why's."

Things can be broken down to their constituent parts and taken for what they "are," but a song is more than a collection of notes; music is more than vibrations in the air; love is more than hormones and chemicals; we ourselves are more than a mish-mash of cells. The details of the thing are real and true, but they're only one layer. Something more emerges when you pull back and see the whole for what it is.

So, does something really emerge if we pull alllll the way back and look at the whole of the universe? Is this all part of something more?

Who knows—but there is precedent for it. It's not a wild idea, and you don't have to deny science or rationality to choose it.

Final note (more to myself, than anyone): no, this isn't just semantics. Even if calling a random splatter of paint, "art" doesn't change the physical properties of it, it changes its meaning. To us, that's real. It changes our entire perception of the thing.

And so when I add some emergent properties and labels to this universe, the world changes. I feel more connected and less lonely. I feel both more and less significant (which is both empowering and a relief).

And I don't think I'm crazy for doing it.