As science has progressed, numerous mathematical patterns have become apparent in nature. The Fibonacci sequence, for example, governs the formation of a spiral — one of the most basic life structures, yet also the structure of our entire Milky Way Galaxy. The Mandelbrot Set describes a transition from order to chaos, and then back to order in relation to population growth. Gravity itself is also an example of math in nature, as it is the force that governs interaction between all objects and even energies.

Through the study of these patterns, scientists have begun to realize that they can be extrapolated to apply to systems infinitely larger, and infinitely smaller than the system currently being observed. The way the nucleus of an atom is orbited by electrons, for example, shows an extrapolation of gravity from our visible world to the microscopic world. …

Let’s start with the beginning of life. The Earth itself is only about 4.5 billion years old, and life began in what scientists have described as a ‘primordial soup’. The first single-cell organisms developed in a soupy organic material, and then these organisms reproduced by splitting one cell into two. Darwin’s theory of evolution tells us that minor mutations lead to differences among the population, with some traits superior than others resulting in survival of the fittest. This process reiterated itself billions of times as life grew more and more complex.

As cells formed symbiotic relationships with each other, larger organisms were formed such as plants and fungi. The complexity only became more intricate, however, when cells formed specialized groups known as organs, through which symbiotic relationships with other organs can form organisms like animals. In the same way that the microscopic organelles in a cell function together to complete the cell’s purpose, the human body’s organs function in perfect equilibrium to sustain life. And if we ‘think outside the box’, we can take this yet another step further. Humans form symbiotic relationships with each other, with different people taking up different roles to complete the combined goal of society. Are we not, in this sense, a cell of a living organism? Are we not bound by the cell wall we form around ourselves — the rules, written and unwritten, of society? …

As I was meditating early this morning I began setting intentions for the day. There has been a lot going on in my life academically and spiritually, so I visualized the word “fresh” with every breath in, and “productive” with every breath out. Upon deeper consideration, these words hint at the very essence of being human. With every breath in, every meal, and every sip of water, we are refreshing our physical body. With every breath out, and every act of creation, we are sharing our energetic life force with the surrounding world.

Soon, a calmness enveloped my emotions, and I reached a brief moment of realization: “What I should do is nothing, but what I can do is everything.” My relationship with productivity has always been quite chaotic, for I am merely an easily-distracted human being. Confronted with this clarity, however, I realized that there was no need to place such intense pressure on myself to be “productive,” because it is in our genuine human nature to create. …

It has now been a full month since I started meditating every day, and I have a lot to share. Although I had experimented with meditation before, and loved it, I was never quite able to cement it into my daily routine. After experiencing a spiritual awakening while camping in the New Hampshire White Mountains, however, a lot changed. I discovered a newfound happiness in being alone with my thoughts, a genuine compassion for all other living beings, and, most importantly, an understanding of the Buddhist concept of emptiness. I faced the difficult parts of my ego: shadows my conscious mind actively attempted to suppress. …

If one thing has stayed the same throughout recorded history, it is that the world is constantly changing. The story of civilization is one of constant rebirth and growth, contributing to the overall entropy of reality. If we look back, however, it becomes apparent that many of the modern luxuries we enjoy are relatively new concepts. Instead of hunting for our next meal, we can simply know it will be there. This simple fact is what makes it possible to expand our consciousness. …

There are certain places in our built environment that evoke strong emotions of longing; a sort of loneliness that is somehow amplified by the surrounding architecture. Places that were designed to accompany many people, but in the present moment, there is only one: You. There is a word to describe such places, and it is ‘liminal’ — situated at a sensory threshold. Liminal places are often where transitional movement occurs. Essentially, these places exist only for the transit of a person between places or states of existence.

It can be easy to forget our roots as humans — our intimate connection with nature, not as something separate, but as something one with us. The built environment often encompasses our entire perception of reality, obscuring what it truly means to be alive. Even when we separate ourselves from the physical built environment, a monumental task in and of itself, it is only more difficult to separate from the metaphysical built environment. Before I go any further, I will clarify that by ‘built environment’ I am referring to every structure, both physical and intangible, created by humans. We assign these structures an inherent reality within our perception, and based off this reality, we assign an inherent importance. It is this assigned reality and importance that leads a young student to believe their exam grade is a matter of life or death, when in reality, the school building and the entire grading system are simply figments of human imagination. In reality, the only matters which are truly life or death are those pertaining to food, water, and shelter. Human society would be unable to function if each person focused only on securing his own food, water, and shelter, and thus we must assign a reality and importance to creations like school and grading systems. Just because we have assigned this reality and importance to these things makes them inherently real or important. …