Entropy is the scariest word in physics and possibly life.
Entropy is defined as the gradual decline into disorder. How depressing. No matter what we do, everything tends to disorderliness. This, of course, explains the Sisyphean task of house work, but it doesn’t make it anymore palatable.
I was looking out our kitchen window right after I hastened the microwave oven door’s entropy by shutting it too hard. I noticed moss on a limb in the woods, and that gave me hope. I thought to myself, “That moss has sure found a place to thrive.” Although we have to contend with entropy, still, life springs forth eternally and indefatigably.
Have you ever noticed all the weeds that grow in sidewalk cracks where, over time, a small amount of soil has accumulated? That’s a weed with a positive attitude as there is little chance to thrive in that crack, but still it tries.
Oddly enough, that weed is supporting entropy. The retention of moisture in concrete, along with the action of roots pressing against it, hastens the concrete’s entropy. And eventually, that concrete will crumble and life will plow right over it, leaving no evidence that sidewalk was ever there except in your fading memory.
How interesting that life just chugs on, despite entropy, or maybe because of entropy. This gives me some insight into the nature of change. Change is simply a gentrified form of entropy, or maybe change is the bastard cousin of entropy, twice removed and inbred with enthalpy. I don’t know, but there is a connection.
I do know this, though: time and entropy both relentlessly march onward. That used to make me sad, but in this context, it’s also life that is marching onward. From destruction springs new life. After the winter, there is spring.
If life can continue and exist in spite of increasing disorder, maybe we can, too.