And so …
The whispering comes from a place which comes and goes; has come and gone ad infinitum. Within the first memory and within the ‘last’. The whole sequence, played many times over, in order and out of order, changes as often as my perspective and understanding does.
There are an infinite number of potential timelines we could venture into. Even as many of us think ‘No! There’s only one way things can go, and that’s the way it goes’. (I just now realized why the expression ‘it is what it is’ has both resonated with me, and also, bothers me … ‘it is what it is’ is a very deterministic/fatalistic way of looking at life; a way which excludes other possibilities. A way that makes the mind refuse to see that even though, we cannot control how others behave or all the circumstances of life, we can control how we choose to perceive, and more importantly perhaps, how we choose to behave as a result. It excludes multiverse/superposition theory, and the ‘what if’ of every possibility therein).
Perhaps this cage of linear comprehension (our dualistic, three dimensional construct) does not allow us to experience the looping, paralleled, layered timelines simultaneously (except perhaps in dreams, visions and deja vu), ironically, saves us from both insanity, and from losing traction within infinity.
After all, being able to focus on only one thought – or better – no thought: Is this not what meditation is? The ability to focus on nothing but the miraculous breath in and breath out? That one timeline, which is the Code of the Optimal One?
She whispers now. Reminding me that although we exist in infinite potentials, infinite timelines (for example, because I took a different route to work today), we are not as fragmented as we sometimes feel. We are not a missing piece in a puzzling infinity meal that never satisfies. Her whispering speaks to all of me; and the parts that are parts feel defeated by her unshakable timeless confidence. She is in superposition. In every place, in every instance, in every circumstance, in every possible multiverse, seeing me (and from the ‘parts’ stand point, judging me), simultaneously.
But she does not whisper to draw comparisons – to her, myself – or others. That is one of the things she came to teach me. And she is me.
Photo is pixabay creative commons