On Turning Sixty

For reasons of random mental association and the free flowing of memories, I recently I went back to one of my early interests, physics. I can’t say I was ever any good in college physics - in fact, I was definitely quite incapable of getting good grades in my premed physics in college. The study of molecular physics, though, always fascinated me. As a college student majoring in chemistry, I found physical chemistry to be both challenging and at the same time troubling. Not only was thinking about molecules difficult - in the sense that wrapping one’s mind around the thought that one can “study” atoms and subatomic particles without being able to see them - but the mere thought of them made me both anxious and curious.

These days I find myself thinking about atoms and molecules again, a preoccupation which has recurred in last few months.

Electron microscopy of calcium carbonate crystals

The thought that an organic being is mostly energy - you, me, a forest fungus, an E. coli bacterium - is profoundly vexing. The analogy that is typically put forth goes like this: a carbon atom’s nucleus – that is its neutrons and protons – are so compact as to be infinitesimally smaller than the volume of the carbon atom it is supposed to comprise, or rather "occupy". In other words, most of what an atom is, is the energy between the nucleus and its electrons. Said differently, the space between the nucleus, which is extraordinarily dense, and the electrons which establish the outer confines of its physical territory, is simply energy but not matter. At least not matter in the sense we usually understand it in daily life. Think of it like this: the nucleus of a carbon atom is like the size of a pea in the center of a football field; the electrons at the outer boundary are the upper bleachers. The rest is energy. The rest is nothing but energy. Most atoms which make up our bodies, that is carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, are just energy levels around extraordinarily compact nuclei held together by forces which are so strong as to be indescribable in "earthly"terminology which we are able to fathom. It was once written that particles smaller than photons, - that is, particles smaller than light energy - pass through our bodies completely undeterred. The analogy goes further. The electromagnetic waves which saturate our universe, freely travel through matter, including our bodies. Electromagnetic waves, radio waves, gamma rays, and so many other forms of energy, travel through what we think of as solid matter without even the slightest measurable deceleration. This thought is truly puzzling – that is, that we, thinking, eating, loving, living selves - are merely bunches of dense particles, put together by energy forces which are not really capable of measuring, let alone understanding.

Bachalpsee above the valley of Grindelwald

I find myself thinking afresh about the ephemeral nature of our physical and chronological lives. In the large scheme of the universe, our lives are so infinitesimally short. A mere blip in the scale of the age of the earth, let alone the universe. Physically we are absolutely nothing. A mere clump of protons and neurons surrounded by energy levels; and yet the human being is such a sublime organism. The human body, let alone the human brain, is one of the greatest, if not, the greatest masterpiece of the history of our universe. How is it all possible?

The second law of thermodynamics states that everything in the universe tends to move toward disorganization, toward losing energy. Nothing moves in the natural world against entropy. Entropy rules everything we see. Eventually everything will be cold - at least that is what we understand about the laws of how the universe functions. Eventually the entire universe will be cold - absolute zero - the energy around atoms will cease, and it will transform itself into another form, which we do not yet understand. Physicists think this will be the beginning of the ultimate shrinkage of the universe, which will retract to a tiny amount of space-energy, the next big bang.

Yet evolution on our planet has shown us just the opposite. At least temporarily, in the course of our short lives, we are the great beneficiaries of the most magnificent experiment of nature in the history of the universe. Evolutionary biologist will explain that we the living world is but “borrowing of energy” by a chaotic colliding of molecules which are forced to organization by random processes, “briefly” defying the laws of entropy. Yet, the phenomenon of life is just so awesome. The fact that after 4 billions of years - the approximate age of our earth - and only half of it, the time there has been organic life as we know it, life on your planet earth, we - humans- are the culmination of evolution, we are able to see ourselves as a consequence of nature, we, molecules of organic and inorganic material, organized in extraordinary functioning organisms, see ourselves! From the time of the first organic molecules, billions of years ago, through the long process of evolution, we are now the lucky beneficiaries of this astonishing phenomenon. Not only are we just a bunch of molecules arranged in highly organized systems which function organically into what we know as life, but we are able to see and think of ourselves as living organisms. We are thinking beings. The brain studies itself. What a formidable thing! To have brains which see and recognize themselves. Cogito ergo sum.

Windmill and Polder - Rembrandt Etching at the Rembrandthuis in Amsterdam

So, as I turn 60, entering the mature years of my life, I feel more aware than ever of the vastly complex nature of life. It vexes me, though, to think that my atoms - the ones which make up my current body - are not the same ones I was born with. Those carbon atoms have been recycled countless of times - too many to count. My body has changed millions of times, has had molecules circulating hundreds of millions of times, trillions of bacteria have a home in me, and trillions of synapses in my brain allow me to see a painting by Rembrandt which moves me to tears. Not only am I more humbled than ever by my respect of the creative power of art and artists, but the actual ability to appreciate the art and the mastery of the artist is what moves me without limit. In turning 60 I am more thankful than ever that nature has given me the ability to be in awe of nature, of art and artist, of being able to feel the most sublime of feelings listening to the Adagietto in Mahler 5th. I am thankful for being 60 and preserving the sense of wonder which I had as a child about life and art. I thank nature for being I, for being alive, for sensing the world.

The beginning of Mahler's Adagietto