I walked out into a darkened yard, and saw a sliver of a waxing moon approaching the unusually reflective sea below. They approached as opposite magnets might, slowly pushed by outside forces until they could no longer resist crossing horizons.
It looked magical.
The distant city lights outlined one coastline's border and a few miles to the west, the moon outlined the other coast.
I felt that familiar, but nonetheless rare, feeling of presence. Being in a definitive moment, a relaxed perspective free of chores, worries or, ironically, even time.
Immediately, I wanted to hear a favorite song that had been playing the last time I had this moment, this exact view. Reaching down into my pocket for my phone, I woke it, chose an app and found the song. I pushed play and went back to gazing at the reluctant moon.
But, the magic was gone.
It had been there, full and strong. But, I had drifted when I went to look for the song. I left the magic and stepped into the tech. Two different places. Two different dimensions.
Quantum physics has described a multiple universe concept, occupying the same thing we currently understand as “space”.
If you're a Star Trek fan, or science fiction one, as I am, then you have already encountered the concept. Except, I would guess, you have understood multiple dimensions as wildly different from one another. Spock or Kirk would step out of 1880's California only to find themselves in 2000BC fighting off wild creatures.
However, why couldn't different dimensions be quite a bit less dramatic? Dimensions share a common quality: representative reality. So, if nature is any example, these different dimensions might only be as subtly different as the house cat is from a bob cat. Perhaps even less so.
When I first walked out into the moon's light I was certainly in a frame of mind, a place that I evidently exited on my way to find that song on the phone. When I went back to the view, while the song began, I was somewhere different. The initial feeling was gone. I had moved ever so slightly from one thin dimension to another. Very similar. But different.
I see this example all day long as I move through tasks, chores and adventures. Although it might be more easily described as moods or emotions, it appears to be something more.
We must certainly consider ourselves singular. Unique unto ourselves. So, then, how would we analyze mood swings, heightened emotions of high or low, happiness, sadness, etc? We appear very differently to others during those moments. Perhaps, even to ourselves. Have we changed so much? Or, are we reacting to the changes we find as we slip between multiple, but strikingly similar dimensions, requiring us to adjust: to emote, to stress or to relax?
Amazingly enough, we must assume our physical bodies are remaining in one place. No travel stress is evident, no time dilation apparent. Therefore, it might only be our minds, or our souls, or our consciousness – whatever you like – that has moved through dimensions.
That said, it might become more palatable, upon extended reflection, that such movements might have prompted our entry into this body at birth, and similarly our exit.
March 10, 2016. Kula