Have you ever tried to distinguish between things and processes? Are there even things?

Certainly, you encounter sort of action in the world, and it’s obviously a process.

A plane flying is a process. Composing an essay is a process. A football player making a touchdown is a process.

Love is a process—though we often describe it as a thing. A piece of music is a process—though we often describe it as a thing. Linguists call turning a verb into a noun a nominalization.

While these examples of describing processes as things makes sense within some contexts, even the most solid stuff we encounter is process. When you touch the table in front of you—the table is not a static thing. It feels solid, to be sure. But that’s because your fingertips are solid in relationship to the table. There are some creatures for whom the table is not solid (for example, neutrinos pass right through the table without any complaint).

Touching the table in front of you and feeling its solidity is a process. It’s just the same as when you hear a sound and when you see light. Your brain is receiving different impulses that make you think you’re touching, hearing, or seeing something.