I have always been intrigued by the parallels between laws of physics and the tenets of spiritual concepts. I see ways in which properties of the external world, what we can see and hear and touch, correspond with energies within us. Even if you don’t believe in the soul or spirit as an entity, you might agree that internal processes are happening that move us forward in our psychological development over a lifetime. Just as the heat and light from the sun provide energy to sustain physical life, an energy is flowing between initial states and and final states within our psyches. Our creative energies wax and wane.
The first law of thermodynamics states that energy is conserved. It cannot be created nor destroyed. So why are we constantly being told that we need to conserve it? Why are we running out of the sources we use to heat our homes and fuel our cars? The second law of thermodynamics explains it. As energy is is transferred or transformed, it becomes less concentrated and therefore less useful. It has great potential in those initial states, like water about to tumble over a hundred foot fall, or radiation from the sun. If it isn’t pushed or blocked by some force, it tends to spread out and get diluted.
The second law of thermodynamics defines this within systems that include variables like temperature, pressure and internal energy. Think ice melting. There is an initial state (ice) then a transfer of energy (heat) that changes the ice into liquid form. Entropy is the measure of disorder, or the predicable decrease in a system’s energy availability. As ice melts, entropy increases. Entropy is always increasing. Sigh.
Is there a measure of my energy availability? Perhaps there is a spiritual equivalent of entropy that explains the distribution of energy within my capacity to do work. Not that my energy is always decreasing, although it may feel like that some days. It is, instead, distributed within a predictable equation. Entropy is always increasing, but the energy has simply been transferred to another form. It hasn’t disappeared.
Our initial state of intention to create something is buzzing with energy. We hyper focus to begin a project, working hard to get it off the ground. The moment we move forward, disorder begins. Just as energy becomes diluted over time in physical systems, it is the same within our creative dynamic. It must be replenished consistently with new sources of concentrated energy. Collaboration with like-minded partners, a walk in the woods, a delicious meal. We can recharge our batteries with these generators, and define any states of flagging energy without judgement. They are, after all, universal.