12 August 2025

The Relational Grammar of the Universe

1 Tension and Complementarity

In previous series, we followed two trajectories in the unfolding of the universe: one through energy and entropy, tracing the great expansion and thinning of time; the other through mass and inertia, tracing the local resistance to that unfolding—the contraction of space and the thickening of duration.

These arcs revealed striking symmetries. Where energy made time run faster, mass slowed it down. Where entropy stretched space, gravity contracted it. One pointed to the future of the universe, the other to its form. Yet both told a single story, not of opposites, but of complementary tendencies.

In this new series, we take a step further. We ask:
What lies beneath these patterns?
Is there a structure deeper than entropy or inertia, space or time?

We propose that there is. That what the universe expresses—across cosmological and local scales, across physics and experience—is a small number of relational principles, repeated in various guises. Not laws of nature in the classical sense, but grammatical principles: conditions under which meaningful unfolding becomes possible.

And the first principle is this:

Every unfolding enacts its own resistance.
Every differentiation arises through tension.

This is not a claim about objects or particles. It is a claim about relation—that whenever something becomes, it becomes within a field that holds it. Time unfolds not in isolation but in relation to space; energy unfolds not without mass, but with the possibility of inertia. Even entropy, that thinning of temporal potential, occurs only because something—mass, structure, memory—offers resistance.

This tension is not a flaw in the system. It is the system.
It is how the universe generates meaningful structure, instead of dissolving into flat uniformity or collapsing into a singularity. It is how difference comes to be, and how that difference can persist.

In this grammar, complementarity is not opposition.

  • Energy and mass are not two kinds of stuff; they are perspectives within a relational field—tendencies toward unfolding and holding.

  • Time and space are not containers; they are relational dimensions—one tracing the unfolding of process, the other tracing its co-presence with others.

Each depends on the other. Each defines itself by what it is not. And their tension is what allows the universe to be more than a pulse or a point.

In the posts to come, we will explore how this tension—

  • unfolds across different scales,

  • structures both physics and meaning,

  • and ultimately, may provide a relational grammar through which the universe expresses itself.

A grammar not of language, but of becoming.


2 Generative Tension

In the first post of this series, we proposed that the universe unfolds not from substance, but from tension—from the dynamic interplay of complementary tendencies like energy and mass, space and time, entropy and inertia. These are not opposing forces, but relational poles that bring each other into being. Each enacts a resistance to the other—and in that resistance, something new becomes possible.

In this post, we turn more directly to the nature of that tension, and how it is not merely a condition of the universe’s existence, but the engine of its differentiation.

Tension is Not Conflict

It’s tempting to imagine tension as conflict—as if entropy is trying to tear the universe apart, while gravity fights to hold it together. But in a relational ontology, this framing misses the point. Neither entropy nor gravity exists in isolation. Rather, they emerge together, in a system where one unfolds because the other resists.

Think of it like breath:

  • Inhalation draws in potential.

  • Exhalation releases it.
    Neither is the goal. The dynamic between them is the life.

So too with the cosmos. The tension between thinning and thickening, between dispersal and persistence, is not a battle—it is a relational rhythm. And that rhythm is what gives rise to structure, change, and meaning.

Tension Generates Differentiation

If the universe were pure entropy—perfect dispersion—it would be featureless. If it were pure mass—complete inertia—it would be frozen. Neither possibility allows for unfolding, because neither contains difference.

But when entropy and mass co-arise, they create the conditions for differentiation:

  • Energy spreads, but not evenly—because mass curves geodesics.

  • Time accelerates, but not uniformly—because mass slows it locally.

  • Space expands, but not symmetrically—because gravitational relations reshape it.

This means that tension is not a blockage—it is creative.
It generates difference—not as a subtraction from unity, but as a condition for structure. In this grammar, difference is not deviation from sameness, but an articulation of relation.

Process, Not Substance

To see tension this way is to shift from thinking in terms of things to thinking in terms of processes. A process unfolds within a relational field—an interplay of tendencies that co-define what the process is, and what it can become.

A star is not a substance; it is a dynamic equilibrium between nuclear expansion and gravitational contraction.
A black hole is not an object; it is a relational threshold, where the contraction of space outruns the capacity of time to unfold.

This is what makes tension generative:
It doesn’t merely balance—it produces structure by creating the conditions under which unfolding becomes possible.

A Universe of Held Becoming

In this view, the universe is not made of matter, nor governed by immutable laws. It is a held becoming—a relational field in which each process finds its form through the tension that holds it open.

This tension is not external to time and space. It is what makes time and space meaningful dimensions, rather than empty containers. It is not a force added to energy or mass—it is what makes their interplay expressive.

In the next post, we will explore how this grammar of held becoming scales, from the expansion of the universe to the gravity of a planet, and perhaps even to the construal of meaning in consciousness.


3 Scaling the Grammar

So far, we’ve proposed that the universe unfolds through generative tension: a grammar of complementary tendencies—unfolding and holding, acceleration and resistance—that co-create difference, form, and meaning. This tension is not an anomaly; it is the fundamental condition of becoming.

But how does this grammar operate across different scales?

From Cosmos to Quanta

At the largest scale, this grammar is visible in the expansion of the universe:

  • Entropy increases, thinning time.

  • Space expands, stretching the topology of unfolding.

  • Energy disperses, reducing potential.

And yet, within this expansion, we find the persistence of form:

  • Galaxies, stars, planets—localised resistances to entropy.

  • Black holes—intensifications of mass, slowing time toward stillness.

  • Memory—traces of pattern and regularity that defy uniformity.

At the smallest scale, in quantum processes, we see the same relational logic:

  • A particle is not a thing, but a probability field—a potential awaiting instantiation.

  • Observation instantiates—collapses—a particular value from a field of possible values.

  • Even here, unfolding is relational, not self-contained.

The grammar of the universe does not change from one scale to another. What changes is how the tension articulates:

  • At cosmological scales: gravity and entropy.

  • At quantum scales: indeterminacy and measurement.

  • At biological and cognitive scales: stability and adaptation, prediction and surprise.

The principle of complementarity is fractal—recurring at every level of complexity.

Local and Global Relational Fields

What we call “local” and “global” are not scales of size, but scales of relation.

  • A black hole is locally dense, but cosmologically small.

  • A living cell is microscopically small, but relationally rich.

  • A human thought is fleeting, yet embedded in systems of language, culture, and memory that scale far beyond the individual.

Each instance is a local expression of a global grammar.
Each scale reveals not a separate world, but a differently curved field of tension.

Scaling Meaning

This brings us to an important observation:
If the same grammar holds across physical, biological, and semiotic domains, then meaning itself is scaled tension.

  • A clause constrains and unfolds potential meanings.

  • A musical phrase resolves tension across time.

  • A memory persists by resisting the entropy of forgetting.

In each case, difference is held open—not erased, not exploded, but maintained in a delicate field of complementarity. Meaning is never just instantiated; it is always relationally patterned, held within a system of resistance and unfolding.

The Grammar is Recursive

This pattern of scaling does not flatten the universe into sameness. Instead, it reveals a recursive logic—a grammar that repeats without replicating.

The same principles:

  • tension and complementarity,

  • differentiation and resistance,

  • local unfolding and global pattern—

—manifest differently at every level. Yet they belong to a single ontology: not a tower of nested substances, but a meshwork of relational unfoldings.

In the next post, we will explore how this recursive grammar supports the universe’s capacity for differentiation—how difference becomes meaningful without being reduced to identity or lost in dispersion.


4 Differentiation Without Identity

If the universe unfolds through relational tension, and if that tension scales from the cosmic to the cognitive, then we are left with a profound question:

What is difference, if not identity in disguise?

In much of Western metaphysics, difference is defined negatively: as not the same. It presupposes identity as primary—a kind of original unity from which everything else deviates. But in a relational ontology, difference is not a departure from identity—it is a pattern of relation. There is no original “same” behind appearances. What we have instead is differentiation without the presumption of a prior, fixed essence.

Relation Before Thing

This reframing begins with a basic commitment: process precedes product. The universe is not a collection of substances that then enter into relation. It is relation all the way down.

  • A quark is not a particle that happens to relate—it is a relational configuration.

  • A self is not an entity that enters social interaction—it is socially instantiated.

  • Even spacetime is not a neutral container—it is constituted by the relations of unfolding processes.

Under these conditions, identity is not the origin of difference. It is a local compression of relational tension—a stabilised pattern that temporarily holds, and can be recognised, named, or measured.

What unfolds from this is a very different view of what it means to be different.

To Differ is to Relate Otherwise

If difference is not deviation, then to differ is not to oppose—it is to relate differently.

  • The moon differs from the earth not as a separate object, but as a relational structure within a gravitational system.

  • A dialect differs from a language not in essence, but in a patterned variation shaped by local use.

  • A single thought differs from another in how it orients unfolding: what it makes possible, what it resists, what potential it configures.

This means difference is situated. It is always specific to a system of unfolding relations—never abstract, never universal. It does not float free of context. It is context, inflected differently.

Held Open

Because difference is not derived from identity, it does not require final resolution. It does not have to “become the same” to be meaningful.
The grammar of the universe allows difference to be held open—tension without collapse, complementarity without fusion.

This is why meaning is possible:

  • Because time unfolds without repeating.

  • Because systems respond without assimilating.

  • Because the relational field is always open to further articulation.

This “held openness” is not indefinite. Processes end. Structures collapse. But for a time—for a meaningful moment—difference can be held without having to be resolved. And this holding is what makes complexity, consciousness, and cosmos alike possible.

Symmetry and Play

This also gives us a deeper understanding of the symmetries we’ve explored in previous series:

  • Entropy and energy.

  • Expansion and contraction.

  • Space and time.

  • Mass and motion.

These are not oppositions in need of synthesis. They are tensions in play. Each gains definition through its difference from the other. Their symmetry is not static but dynamic—a choreography that allows the universe to unfold without reverting to sameness.

In the next (and final) post, we’ll return to this idea of cosmic choreography and consider what it might mean to speak of the universe as a text—a patterned unfolding that not only holds difference but also makes it meaningful.


5 The Universe as Text

Throughout this series, we've explored the idea that the universe is not made of things, but of relational unfoldings—tensions held in play, processes patterned by complementarity, difference without essence. We’ve seen how the cosmos coheres not by fixing identity, but by enabling differentiation: the dynamic spacing of relation.

Now we come to a final metaphor—not a metaphor of matter, but of meaning:

What if the universe is a kind of text?

Not a message from a transcendent author.
Not a code awaiting decryption.
But a field of patterned unfolding, held open in tension, capable of instantiating difference meaningfully across scales.

Meaning as Relational Pattern

In systemic functional linguistics, a text is not just a string of symbols. It is an actualisation of potential—a configuration of meaning that emerges from and feeds back into a structured system of possibility. Every clause, every word, is chosen from a paradigm, actualising one path through a network of relations.

So too with the universe.

  • A galaxy instantiates potential paths of gravitational folding.

  • A star actualises the potential for matter to fuse and shine.

  • A human life patterns consciousness through language, gesture, relation.

In each case, what exists is not a fixed thing, but a selection within a structured field—an instance that construes and is construed.

This is not to say the universe is language.
But it is to say that language gives us a model of how meaning can emerge from structure, how difference can be held open, and how systems can unfold without collapsing into sameness.

Stratified, Instantiated, Tensed

From this perspective, the universe exhibits the same core principles as semiotic systems:

  • Stratification: levels of organisation—from quantum fields to biochemical patterns to consciousness.

  • Instantiation: a cline from potential to instance—each event an actualisation of possible configurations.

  • Tension: meaning arises not from identity, but from relation—each difference poised against another.

This makes the universe readable—not as a finished book, but as an ongoing text in the making, whose grammar is recursive, whose logic is relational, and whose meaning is never final.

Holding the Text Open

The challenge of reading such a universe is not to discover its fixed truths, but to recognise how it holds itself open—how it resists closure.

  • Entropy thins time, yet memory persists.

  • Expansion pulls systems apart, yet new structures arise.

  • Mass curves geodesics, yet leaves room for motion.

At every level, something resists entropy just enough to hold form, to pattern energy, to instantiate a trace of meaning.

This is not permanence. It is persistence.
A momentary coherence. A fragile unfolding.
The universe is not a closed text, but a held tension—a living grammar of differentiation.

And we, readers among readers, do not merely decode it.
We instantiate it.

Reflective Coda: Reading the Universe

In this series, we have read the universe not as a container of things, but as a grammar of unfolding relations. We have traced how complementarity—between energy and entropy, mass and motion, space and time—gives rise to the structures we observe, the tensions we inhabit, and the meanings we make.

At every scale, the universe shows no allegiance to fixed identity. It does not begin with things that move, but with movement that configures things. It does not begin with sameness, but with differentiation. It does not begin with being, but with relation.

This has implications not only for physics or philosophy, but for how we understand ourselves.

We are not substances with attributes, but traces of relation—brief instantiations of collective potential, held in tension with all that is not-us, shaped by systems we did not author but in which we now write.

To live, in this grammar, is to co-instantiate the universe—to be a clause in a clause complex beyond imagining.

But we are not powerless.
We are not merely read.
We are readers too.

We make meaning—locally, momentarily, with what is given—by choosing how to relate, how to differ, how to hold tension open without collapsing it into certainty.
This is not a minor role. It is the very logic of the cosmos, now folded into us.

So let us read attentively.
Let us write carefully.
And let us remember that in this universe,
to unfold differently is to mean.

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