The Meaning: The Synthesis Perspective
Written by Dr. Nash Popovic
In fact, some scientists have already come to the conclusion that reducing everything to the world of matter is inadequate and that reality stretches beyond the physical. This is implied, for example, in Bohm’s theory of ‘implicate order’ and earlier, in De Broglie’s model. The latter proposed that reality is built in levels of size and organisation, each level containing its own causal and statistical laws. As already mentioned, some implications of Hawking’s theory (such as the notion of imaginary time) also point in this direction. After all, even multiple universes, that is an alternative to a meaningful universe, would likely require a reality in which they pop into existence, particularly if they are created independently from each other.
This view is also supported by universal (in the sense that they appear in practically all cultures) transpersonal experiences of a greater whole within which the material world is embedded. Although such glimpses may be fleeting and difficult to interpret, they seem to lie at the root of all religions, even non-theistic ones. The ubiquitous nature of this belief cannot be fully explained by utilitarian motives such as the alleviation of fears or increasing the sense of control. It is hard to reduce a widespread human urge to explore the realm beyond immediate sensory experience to nothing more but a psychological defence mechanism. There are other far more effective ways of serving those purposes, and yet they have not rendered beliefs in supra-reality redundant. Claims that there is nothing beyond, that humans live in a meaningless self-sufficient bubble, have never taken hold for long. It would be unwise to deny the possibility that at least some related experiences are genuine and correspond to something existent. This, of course, does not mean that their various interpretations are valid, but the core of these interpretations should not be summarily dismissed.
The above indicates that if the methodological and ideological limitations that constrain scientific and spiritual approaches are overcome, there is no insurmountable conflict between them. They both postulate that reality goes beyond the familiar one that consists of very dense and relatively slow energy (the matter) and is governed by physical laws. In other words, physical reality and its laws can be considered a special case, a subset of a larger framework (as Newtonian physics is assumed to be a special case of Einsteinian physics, and valid within a limited range). We can say that such ‘supra-reality’ contains the physical world (and possibly other worlds, if the multiple universes hypothesis is taken on board). If this is so, physical reality must have boundaries. Indeed, it does and they are twofold: on the one hand, singularities in the centre of black holes where the laws of physics break down, so they can be taken as ‘out of this world’; and on the other, the speed of light – anything faster than the speed of light would violate the special theory of relativity and therefore be again ‘out of this world’. As the material reality includes entities of maximum density and minimal movement (black holes), it must be at one end of the spectrum. The other reality is likely to consist of faster, less dense but more refined energy, not bound by all the laws of physics applicable in the material world. To say more about it, we need to consider first what energy actually is.
Although this may be difficult to imagine, all we know suggests that energy is best conceived as the process itself, pure movement. In our familiar reality we inevitably associate a movement with something that moves, but reality without matter may consist of this pure energy – movement without necessarily something that moves. One implication of this is that such energy would not be bound by the speed of light. A science and spiritual writer, David Ash (1995, p.139), who advocates this view, writes:
Modern physics may have established that particles cannot move faster than the speed of light, but this does not mean that movement is constrained to this speed. The speed of light is the upper limit of velocity if it is assumed that movement can only exist as the property of particles. However, this classical assumption of the atomic hypothesis is merely a reflection of outmoded materialism.
Such energy could operate beyond the space-time continuum (which is relative to the speed of light) and, of course, would not have mass and would not be constrained by matter. So it is fitting to call its realm non-material reality. Of course, if this reality does not have a space-time framework, there is no beginning and there can be no end. And if the beginning is not required, the problem that the Big Bang theory faces in relation to the material world, namely what was before, is no longer an issue. To bring in Hawking’s quote again, such reality would ‘simply be’.
Still, so-called realistic sceptics might not be satisfied because it is not possible to provide material evidence for this ‘supra-reality’ – it can only be extrapolated (or possibly known through transpersonal experiences). However, those who demand such evidence neglect the fact that solipsistic and historical sceptics can use the same argument against the existence of our familiar physical reality. Ultimately, the existence of the material world cannot be proven either. It cannot be proven (to a solipsistic sceptic) that the world is not just a figment of one’s imagination as a dream is, or (to a historical sceptic) that it existed a moment ago – and yet we take these for granted. Thus, material proof is not considered decisive in this case. Science, however, provides some indirect support for this notion. The following may be a case in point. Electromagnetic fields propagate in a vacuum, but there is no obvious source for this field (the electron cannot be a field source). Yet, the field in which the electron appears stores a large amount of energy. That energy must be non-material (without a mass), because otherwise it would have created a gravitational potential that would have collapsed all matter in the universe to a singularity shortly after the Big Bang. In fact, the very existence of matter can be questioned. For instance, string theory postulating that particles in the universe are actually made up of vibrating strings of energy, each type of vibration corresponding to a different particle. What appears as matter can be seen as a highly condensed (and relatively stable) energy field. Karl Popper writes:
Matter turns out to be highly packed energy, transformable into other forms of energy; and therefore something of the nature of a process, since it can be converted into other processes such as light and, of course, motion and heat… The universe now appears to be not a collection of things, but an interacting set of events or processes… [atoms have] a structure that can hardly be described as ‘material’, and certainly not as ‘substantial’: with the programme of explaining the structure of matter, physics had to transcend materialism. (Popper and Eccles, 1977, p.7)
Popper is not alone. The former head of the Max Planck Institute for Physics, Professor Hans-Peter Dürr, concludes: ‘This world is actually just the material level beyond which is an infinite reality that is much bigger and in which this world is rooted.’ (An interview in P.M. Magazine 05/2007)
This realm, though, cannot be interpreted in such a way as to allow the breaking of the laws that operate within the physical world (as the Theory of Relativity would not have been valid if it had contradicted Newtonian physics within its range). Even fields and waves, as long as they are linked to physical objects and their interactions, have to be interpreted in compliance with the laws of physics. Nevertheless, already on the level of sub-atomic particles (that can be conceived as waves too) some strange behaviour can be detected. The phenomenon known as entanglement is an example: in some circumstances the properties of subatomic particles (such as spin) can get entangled – when we observe one changing the direction of the spin, all of them also change their directions instantaneously. This still occurs even when these particles are separated, and no matter how far they are from each other. It seems that they remain somehow connected and that they are not completely in the grip of the space-time framework.
This example indicates that although different, it is likely that these two realities are in constant interaction – after all, subatomic particles seem to appear from ‘nowhere’ and disappear all the time. This interaction though can be ignored in most of cases (except perhaps in the sub-atomic sphere and in complex wave generating systems such as the brain). Human beings normally perceive only the material world. Phenomenologically, the relation between reality as a whole and its material aspect can be compared to the relation between the awake state and the dream. A dream state is situated within a larger framework of the awake state, but while in a dream, the dreamer is usually not aware of it (except in so-called lucid dreams). Of course, this parallel has its limits. A dream is typically subjective – meaning that dream events depend on the dreamer, while the material world is objective – other agents and objects exist independently from the observer. Nevertheless, it may not be completely off the mark to say that in this world, all sentient beings share a collective dream.
The question may be asked why we should be concerned with reality beyond our immediate reality. In most situations, indeed, it does not need to be taken into account (as, for most practical purposes, Newtonian physics suffices and Relativity can be ignored). However, if non-material reality is in a causal relationship to the physical world – in other words, if the physical world is rooted in it, non-material reality is necessary for the existence of the material one. If this is the case, only a larger perspective that includes the notion of such reality can offer some hope of finding a rational explanation to some fundamental questions relevant to this world.
The real issue, though, is not the existence of a supra-reality. As mentioned, even some proponents of the multiple universes hypothesis are not averse to it. The main difference between that option and a meaningful, purposeful reality is that the former requires an infinite variety of universes, while the latter requires some kind of sentient agency. Many things can come about by chance, but not meaning or purpose. So, we will consider next what the minimum requirements for such agency that can be justified are.
 Because nothing, as such, is indivisible, once you have something you cannot have nothing anymore. Hence, universes cannot appear from nothing independently – nearly an infinite number of universes would have to appear simultaneously. This is why some proponents of multiple universes are happier with stipulating a supra-reality such as a higher dimension (‘bulk’) or infinite-dimensional Hilbert space.
 Even in the material universe, not everything has to have mass: fields do not have mass as well as light and other waves. They may, indeed, play an essential role in linking the two realms, but electromagnetic or gravitational fields are vector fields (having both magnitude and direction) rather than standing scalar fields, so they are inextricably tied to the world of matter.
 Entanglement does not violate the special theory of relativity, stating that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light, because its effects happen simultaneously – there is no cause and effect. Still, these effects cannot take place in our time.
The purposeful universe has to be intentional – it therefore requires intent, and intent requires awareness (it does not make sense to consider intent without awareness). In turn, both necessitate that which is aware and intends. In other words, there must be a source of the intent and awareness. Experience of any kind can hardly be of much help in contemplating such an entity. Throughout history people may have been able to intuit but, as most theologians agree, not directly experience the existence of such a source – even in the context of transpersonal experiences that in the best case may be limited to ‘emanations’ or associated feelings of awe and wonderment. This is not to say that such experiences are irrelevant. Even Einstein recognised their value. He writes that ‘scientist’s religious feelings take the form of rapturous amazement at the harmony of natural law, which reveals an intelligence of such superiority that, compared with it, all the systematic thinking and acting of human beings is an utterly insignificant reflection’ (1949, p.29). However, these feelings do not tell us much. For further inferences we must largely rely on deductive reasoning.
If intent is instrumental for the birth of the universe, its source cannot be in material reality, so it must be in non-material reality. We already suggested that non-material reality consists of energy defined as the movement itself (without objects that move). It is reasonable to suppose that such energy has a focal point. Movement is always relative to something, either a medium or a point (e.g. the movement of a car is relative to the road or to a starting point). Considering that non-material reality does not operate within the space-time framework (time and space, as we know it, started with the Big Bang), it can be concluded that energy must have a reference point. In other words, because in that realm there is no medium (such as space), the pure movement, which is arguably the best description of energy, exists in relation to the point – that is to say the point is its source. That point can be called the One. Even polytheistic religions, such as the Hindu and the Ancient Greek, are familiar with this concept. The One can be conceived as the indivisible, non-dimensional (meaning of no size, infinitely small) focusing point of non-material energy that, in turn, makes ‘the body’ of the One. The One and the associated energy are, therefore, inseparable. Neither can exist without the other. Thus, the One is not just another object that can be discovered, found or proved. As already recognised in many spiritual traditions, the One is beyond words and images (a point cannot be defined – even a drawn point is a crude approximation that actually consists of an infinite number of points).
If this is taken on board, we now need to consider what would be the necessary characteristics of the One. The One clearly resembles the notion of God. The concept of God can be, indeed, seen as the imaginative expression of an intuition about the existence of the One. Traditionally (especially in Christianity), the following properties are postulated: omnipresence (all present), omnipotence (all powerful) and omniscience (all knowing). However, this seems to contradict common sense and in some instances even logic. Here are some examples: omniscience implies knowing the future, including God’s own future interventions; but this would mean that God cannot change his/her mind and choose to act differently, which would mean that he is not omnipotent. Omniscience is inconsistent with the notion of free will that is important in all monotheistic religions, while omnipotence cannot be easily reconciled with the suffering of the innocent. Nor does omnipresence fit well with the view that God is outside time. When we look for such properties, perhaps we need to dig deeper and start from what is absolutely necessary. Two candidates present themselves: that the One is and that the One does – in other words, existence and agency. This is the basis for the two properties already mentioned: awareness and intent. The One that is not aware and does not intend would be reduced to mere blind chance – incompatible with meaning and purpose. So let’s consider awareness and intent in more detail.
Just as gravitational force, for example, appears to be an intrinsic property of matter, it can be postulated that awareness is an intrinsic property of focused energy or energy ‘loops’ (in the physical world, energy can only be transformed from one form to another, it does not have the focus or source, hence no awareness). It should be clarified though that awareness does not presuppose and is different from the mind and its materials (conceptual knowledge, thoughts, language, memory, mental images, etc.). The latter are not necessary for awareness (e.g. it is possible to be aware of a change, without having to conceptualise what is changing). As an analogy, awareness can be compared to the light from a movie projector enabling the materials projected (a movie) to be actualised, but itself is not a part of the movie. In short, awareness, as a property of the One, does not need the mind as we know it. So what is it then? Generally, awareness can be defined as an ability to focus possibilities or actualise potentials. This is akin to the collapse of the quantum wave function when measured/observed, but it applies to everyday experiences too (when we become aware of a cat on the mat, this potential is actualised and other possibilities are eliminated). In case of the One, the minimum requirement is that the focused energy is aware of its own being, its own existence. So through awareness, the One focuses One’s own possibilities or actualises One’s own potentials.
This is another essential property of the One. In this case, intent does not need to be translated into action in order to be realised. Because there is no intrinsic separation between subject and object (energy is an inseparable aspect of the One), everything the One intends straight away becomes realisation – intention is creation. We too have that capacity: when we intend to imagine something, it immediately appears in our mind (it is different when subject and object are separated: making something happen in the world out there requires time and effort). Also, as awareness, intent does not require the mind and thinking in human terms. The creation of the universe that operates on the basis of finely tuned and consistent laws and principles does not necessitate conceptual knowledge, it only necessitates an intent. To make an analogy, when you move your arm, a set of relatively regular principles and alignments are involved that can be rationally discerned and understood. However, you do not need to know them in order to move your arm; you only need the intent to do so. Similarly, directing the flow of water does not require knowing and positioning every water molecule, but only setting the boundaries to its flow. As Polanyi and Prosch put it:
‘… some sort of intelligible directional tendencies may be operative in the world without our having to suppose that they determine all things’ (1975, p.162).
This global directional tendency can be called the Intent (capitalisation is used to distinguish it from other possible intents). The Intent does two things: it initiates the move of energy and also provides direction by setting the boundaries. To draw a parallel with one of the above analogies, this is similar to what a river-bed and gravitational force do for water. The Intent sets, to use Polanyi’s term, the ‘boundary conditions’ that are conducive to the purpose, and like a funnel, pushes energy in a certain direction (actually, a more accurate image would be a reversed funnel that starts from a very narrow point and then gradually expands). The One does not therefore need to create the individual laws of physics and material objects (galaxies, stars, planets, etc.). It is enough to intend the particular behaviour of energy for the physical laws and properties within the boundaries set by the Intent to spontaneously come into existence, as these boundaries greatly limit possibilities. Many spiritual traditions recognise the existence of overall direction and flow, although they may use different terms. What is common to Brahman in the Upanishads, Rita in the Rig Veda or the Chinese concept of Tao is the notion of a dynamic force that permeates reality.
 The term God is avoided here because it is difficult to disentangle this word from anthropomorphised associations embedded in many religions.
 This means that miracles, if they are defined as violations of the laws of nature by an intervention of a supernatural being, are out of question. If the natural laws are not created individually, they cannot be broken individually (some so-called miracles, such as certain forms of healing, may not though violate natural laws but only limited interpretations of these laws).
The above provides a basis for the purposeful universe but it does not tell us what that purpose might possibly be. To get there, let’s first briefly consider existing propositions about inherent meaning.
The most popular one, even nowadays, is the attainment of unity with God in one form or another (this subsumes ending up in heaven after death). It seems though that this proposition hinges on the confusion between the ‘meaning in life’ and the ‘meaning of life’. Such an end may indeed provide the sense of meaning in human lives, but looking from the other perspective, it begs the question why would God want eternal unity with far more limited creatures? And even if this question is somehow bypassed, would such a state be desirable at all? Not even Dante managed to make heaven very appealing. This challenge applies even to non-theistic equivalents, such as nirvana. Nirvana may be the state free from suffering (that stretches beyond the physical life) – but is that all? For all eternity? It is unlikely that the meaning of life and everything is some homogeneous state defined by absence of an aspect of physical life. However, we should not throw the baby out with the bath water. Harmony and transcendent unity implied in these enduring notions may be valuable pieces of the puzzle.
Another proposition is linked to the idea of evolution (which existed well before Darwin). One of its relatively recent proponents was a maverick theologian/scientist and mystic Teilhard de Chardin, but perhaps the best known case is the philosopher Hegel’s evolution of the absolute spirit (defined as ‘the sum of all being, actual and potential’). He lucidly married the evolutionary process with dialectics, popularised since as ‘thesis – antithesis – synthesis’. Hegel’s philosophy is too complex to analyse here, so a general comment will have to suffice. According to Hegel, the final goal of evolution is that the spirit understands itself, in other words, a full self-actualisation. Hegel has been often seen (by Karl Popper and others) as overly optimistic, but in relation to the meaning of life, this view is ultimately pessimistic. Even if the absolute spirit (or the collective mind) cognises itself, what then? A new cycle is sometimes proposed, but going in circles doesn’t seem very meaningful. Still, this interpretation may too contain something of value: it rings true that life continually transcends itself through the evolutionary process.
To summarise, while the emphasis in the first case in on a particular state of being, the emphasis in the second is on the dynamics, the process. Both possibilities make some significant points, but they seem to be incomplete and are therefore not fully satisfactory. Perhaps combining them, the synthesis between being and doing, would be closer to the mark.
It is common sense that something purposeful arises in response to a need. So a reasonable starting point, when pondering the meaning of life, is to ask what the One could conceivably need. Is it possible that the One, who is implicated in initiating the creation of the Universe, could lack something? If it is, the clue must be in the creation itself – in other words, in our own life. So, we can rephrase the above question in the following way: is there something that we have that the One does not? When put like this, the answer seems to present itself: the other. The One is one, and what the One may seek is the other. We can say, therefore, that the purpose of life is to enable the Other to come into existence. But why? Why would it matter? To understand this, we first need to examine in some detail the two fundamental modes of existence: static and dynamic.
The static and dynamic principles
They are widely recognised in science and also in spiritual traditions (e.g. yin and yang in the East). The static and dynamic principles permeate every aspect of reality, including the physical world and life. States and processes are manifestations of the static and dynamic principles, and they rather than matter, seem to underlie physical reality. In life, including human life, they appear as the basic drives to be and to do. The point and the energy that describe the One also reflect static and dynamic principles, so these principles permeate non-material reality too.
As always, if there are two sides, they must be in a relative balance. The necessity for the balance between the static and dynamic principles applies even to the One. The One is not born and cannot die (energy did not become focused, it simply is). However, the prevalence of the static principle could lead to stagnation and uniform movement only, which would be an equivalent of death. On the other hand, if the changes involved are completely chaotic, the dynamic principle could take over, which could lead to disintegration (akin to madness in human terms). Both are obviously problematic, but the dice are loaded in favour of the static principle. Because energy is an integral aspect of the One, intentions of the One are instantly actualised (as our intentions are in our own mind). The trouble is that if everything one intends immediately became reality, it would eventually lead to a cessation of intending. This tips the balance in favour of the static principle (the closest parallel to experiencing such an imbalance in human life would be the sense boredom).
In order to strengthen the dynamic principle something that is not the One is required. An entity that is not completely predictable but not completely chaotic and disintegrating, that will be able to enter into an interaction with the One. In other words, another agency is necessary that has freedom to choose and create so that it can be pro-active rather than just reactive. An agency that will develop its own independent awareness and intent and will eventually grow to be a counterpart to the One. This could establish a permanent balance between the dynamic and static principle. Thus, the purpose of life can be formulated as the becoming of the Other to enable an infinite interplay with the One. Humanity represents one form at a few stages of this process. How infinitely creative this solution is can only be grasped if it is considered that the ‘otherness’ does not initially exist at all.
This purpose was already recognised at the dawn of spiritual development. One of the oldest Hindu myths (Hinduism being one of the oldest religions) is that the world was created because the original being was lonely. The ancient Egyptian religion makes a similar point. The question may be asked, though, why the One simply does not split into two or somehow multiply Oneself. The former is not possible because the point is indivisible, and the latter could at best produce clones, every one being fully aware of the other (like looking at one’s reflection in a mirror). Because such clones could only interact with each other, the dynamic principle would not be strengthened. This counterpart must start from the state of minimal awareness and intent and become the Other through its own experiences and actions.
The development of independent awareness and intent necessitates alienating, separating some energy so that it can grow on its own. A direct influence would be counterproductive. If the One interfered directly, such a development would be reduced to mere conditioning, which would constrain awareness and intent far too much. As acquiring autonomy is essential to this process, simple programming (based on, for example, punishment and reward) would not suffice. This means that the One must remain elusive and only provide a stage and opportunity for exercising the choice (symbolised, for instance, by the tree of knowledge in the biblical tradition). We believe that it would not be very hard for the One to reveal Oneself, but this does not happen (except allegedly in some rare occasions and to a very few individuals) for a good reason. That would perpetuate dependency, keeping humankind in a permanent ‘child-like’ state. And yet the point of our existence is to grow and develop. For the same reason, the One cannot leave ‘fingerprints’ that are visible enough to conclusively eliminate all other options. This too would reduce the choice and therefore would not be conducive to the purpose. It is not even possible to provide complete certainty about the meaning of life. If it was simply a given, the whole process would amount to a blinkered and lazy following.
The importance of this separation, God’s withdrawal, was already hinted at in some spiritual traditions such as the Cabalist doctrine of tsimtsum. However, separation in itself is not sufficient. In order to prevent the prevalence of the dynamic principle, to prevent freedom from becoming chaos, the separated energy must be restricted and protected until it matures. This ‘slowing down’ enables a gradual acquisition of self-mastery. As such a restriction cannot come directly from the One, it must be embodied in the environmental conditions. This is the purpose of the material world: to enable the separation of some energy from the One and to provide the stage for the gradual development of awareness and intent independently from the One. As poet John Keats eloquently put it, “call the world if you please ‘the vale of soul-making’ then you will find out the use of the world… How then are these sparks which are God to have identity given them – so as ever to possess a bliss peculiar to each one’s individual existence? How, but by the medium of a world like this?’ (from the letter to George and Georgiana Keats, 14.02-03.05, 1819).
The two principles (static and dynamic) can be imagined like the sides of a seesaw. Instead of adding weight to the ‘lighter’ side (the dynamic principle) by increasing indeterminacy, the other side is pushed down to the lowest point, so that ‘the seesaw’ bounces back into a balanced position. In other words, for the eventual strengthening of the dynamic principle, the static principle is, in effect, maximised first by condensing and slowing down some energy to the point of nearly absolute stillness or singularity. The trapped energy, of course, reacts in the opposite direction, spontaneously bursting out (which is what we call the Big Bang). However, this ‘explosion’ is neither completely random nor chaotic: it is restricted by the boundaries of the Intent that directs its flow, as a river bed directs the flow of the river.
This is why the material world, as we know it, is as it is. It is best perceived as a plane or sheet that separates some non-material energy from the rest. As Laszlo puts it, ‘the world of matter-energy appears to float, rather as a thin precipitate, on a deep sea of almost infinite energies’ (1993, p.87). To use another analogy, if the world of matter is like a balloon, the air in the balloon represents the energy separated from the rest (the air outside the balloon). The basic framework of that plane, on which all the others rely, is time and space. Scientists would agree that space is created by celestial objects moving away from each other and time is derived from the relation between the dynamic and static principle (as in the formula t = v/l). So created space and time set the scene and also impose some limits. The best boundaries are infinite boundaries.
 To begin with multiple focusing points is also not an option as they are not necessary, and therefore this would violate the cohesiveness requirement (see Reasoning in The Method part).
 From this perspective, expulsion from paradise or the bliss of ignorance is not a punishment, but a necessary step in an evolutionary process.
We can now attempt to tackle the question of how life started. As already indicated, it seems equally unlikely that life was created accidentally and that an agent acted like an engineer, putting various parts together or programming DNA sequences. A more plausible explanation that combines scientific and spiritual perspectives (but without their ideological baggage) is that life was intended. As suggested about the tuning of the four forces and other physical properties, ‘design’ or the direct involvement of an external agency need not be invoked. In line with the criterion of cohesiveness, it is sufficient to postulate as the most likely explanation intended abiogenesis. In this case, the Intent is a driving force as well as a converging force, a ‘funnel’ that sets boundaries to possibilities. Manufacturing a proto-cell is not necessary. A more elegant and effective solution is to set the scene for an interplay between two distinct kinds of energy, material and non-material, from which life emerges spontaneously. Let’s see how it could happen.
We mentioned above that the material world could be conceived as a sheet or membrane. It can be hypothesised that the non-material energy separated from the rest by this membrane ‘pushes’ against it. In that process, some non-material energy on the edges turns into matter and vice versa (this is indeed happening all the time). Some may also develop a ‘resonant attraction’ to certain forms of matter. Of course, not any matter would qualify for that. Being movement, the energy has an affinity towards the constituents of the membrane that give the least resistance to that dynamic and have the potential for allowing it to increase. The specific features of carbon-based compounds (such as amino acids that can appear naturally) are the most malleable and make it perfectly suited to this interaction: plasticity (water is too fluid to allow the formation of discrete structures, while crystals are too solid to allow the necessary dynamics); the capacity to form multiple bonds and a vast number of diverse compounds; relative stability (the inertness of carbon in its molecules) and yet propensity for chemical reactions; the possibility to grow in complexity (the forming of long chains of atoms), and so on. These characteristics enable the segments of undifferentiated non-material energy on the boundaries with the matter to resonate with and become (at least temporarily) attached to it.
When attached to those ‘soft spots’ in the membrane, a tendency of the energy to actualise the dynamic principle turn them into bubbles of greater activity while other, more inert matter remains largely unaffected. We can imagine that non-material energy acts as an invisible net that separates some forms of organic matter from the rest and brings them together. This could explain the peculiar anti-entropic propensity of life. Unlike matter, non-material energy is not subject to the second law of thermodynamics. While it is associated with carbon-based compounds, they too exhibit non-entropic nature, get together, and create complex structures. To use a typical example, in close proximity matching monomers would combine, while ‘wrong handed’ ones would be crowded out. This, of course, would not break the second law of thermodynamics on the physical plane because such an enclosure being porose is still an open system. In turn, the matter ‘encloses’ the segments of non-material energy and separates it (at least partially) from the rest, which keeps it integrated or focused. Such enclosing can lead to energy loops that are, as we will see shortly, essential for the individuation of non-material energy. This is only possible because organic matter is sufficiently flexible to enable the expression of self-generated movement. This is a simple representation of the above:
So, we can say that this is a mutual bubble creation, allowing the organic material within its own bubble to preserve the intricate chemistry inside long enough to start multiplying. If so, why doesn’t it happen again and again? Because creating these bubble(s) is enormously hard and is not necessary anymore – it is much easier to get attached to bubbles that are the result of self-reproduction (we can make a parallel with water: once it creates a hole, the water goes in there rather than making other holes).
In conclusion, we concur with science that life started from very simple forms. Whether it originated in a ‘primaeval soup’, in hot-water vents at the bottom of the ocean, in clay sediments, or on Mars is a technical issue. It does not affect our basic assertion that life being intended is not only congruent with the known facts but is also more plausible than hugely improbable accidental abiogenesis. Ultimately though, the interplay of two kinds of energy produced life, so we could say that life is self-creation. If this is true, such an interaction must be still taking place in present life forms. To see if this is the case and to examine the possible medium of interaction between these distinct types of energy, we need to delve deeper into the issue of what life is and what it consists of.
 This, of course, is not a physical enclosure, but a field enclosure. An analogy can be made with the gravitational field of the Earth that captures the Moon, yet the Moon is not inside the Earth (and its own field subtly influences the Earth too).
 This, of course, is not a physical enclosure, but a field enclosure. An analogy can be made with the gravitational field of the Earth that captures the Moon, yet the Moon is not inside the Earth (and its own field subtly influences the Earth too).