Where Does The Time Go? (Part Deux of My String Theory Prayer Backstory)

Which reminds me of Ingrid Bergman asking where the noses go, but that's another topic for another day. And hopefully you've all figured that out already anyway. (Start with a digression, I always say.) Anyhoo, the science forthwith:

So, I've been thinking about time lately, and by lately, I mean for the last I-don't-know-how-many years, I guess. See, every time I have a long drive, I listen to books on CD. Usually non-fiction for some reason. Politics, comedy, business and science. The first two are funny, the last two are not. Stephen Hawking was where I started, I think- and no he doesn't read his own book which may be a grave disappointment to you. But I did listen to A Brief History of Time (was it abridged, I wonder now?) And of course, this gets me thinking that I need to go back and scoop up all of his other stuff. Memo to me. So, yes, Hawking, and I guess actually there were some bits of Einstein and Heisenberg before that. I'm uncertain which came when or showed up where in my reading and whatnot. I'd have to really look to pin that down. ;-)

Back to time- so, yeah, we generally run around with the idea of linear time. And, yes, any of us who've chanced upon a Discover/ Popular Science/ The Physics of Star Trek or something else fluffy of a science sort know that time is not linear. But I have noticed that even when presented with the fact that time is not actually linear, everybody still behaves as if it were.
As if, you know, beyond here lie monsters, or something.

Quick review (feel free to add or correct if I get crazy):

Linear time is the idea of time flowing in one direction with one event occuring after another and all events being placed immovably, well, in their original places. Imagine one olympic sized swimming pool after another laid end to end as far as the eye can see, and beyond that even, in a straight line. Everybody swims in one direction from the time they're born until the time they die. At which point they're cleared out of the water (time) by the lifeguards, we hope, because bumping into all those dead bodies would get quite freaky. (You see? I have a pragmatic/ scientific mind. Ha!) Not really about the bodies, but you get the idea about the one direction.

EXCEPT that physicists have found that time doesn't flow in a one directional line. And it's not as simple as lanes in those end to end olympic pools with some people swimming one way and some people swimming the other. No, indeed, it's more like a circular swimming pool with time (and if we're going to be complicated, which we very definitely will be very soon, more dimensional thingeys than time) swishing around. Or maybe even more like a spherical pool in which time does some very, very weird things. But I think the truth is that "time as a swimming pool" is actually in a more complete shape, if you will, than a sphere even, but I can't imagine that shape because my brain is flat. I intuit it, though, and say esto es por mi.* I must design a flag. It's a brave new swimming pool, yo. Pee in it if you dare.**

*Like all good explorers, I blithely and bravely ignore the fact that this has been "technically" discovered by someone else before me. What is "time"?, I ask. What's "before"? Look over there! (That last is so I can run away before you turn back around. But I'll come back. I always do.)

** Penrose (Sir Roger Penrose if you're nasty) already has peed in this pool or at least has stated his intention to jump in and try. I will chide him in the next, fascinating installment of String Theory Backstory. I do a really good chide. Even if I may have to finally concede a point to the chidee. You'll love it.

How Shall I Explain? (Part Un of my String Theory Backstory)

Lukas asked for backstory on that String Theory Prayer thing you see I wrote a while back. I said I'd get to it as soon as I got home from being Oout and Aboout. But then I've been sick (coughing up green stuff, thanks for asking) for the past week and not exactly in a writing mood. But I'm getting to it now asbestos I can.

I do think I'm somewhat good at writing the dramatic and weary stuff, sometimes anyway. Not always. And sometimes I'm good at goofy, too. (Who am I kidding? I'm always good at goofy- it's an essential part of this nutritious breakfast I keep eating.) But every once in a while when I horrify myself and sometimes others by saying out loud how bad things really are- in fact really have been for way, way, way too long, I think hhmm, I wonder if I could describe joy as well? I mean could I do justice to the equal and opposite part of existence should it ever show up? And I think maybe I'm not much of a writer, really, if I can't describe joy and comfort as well as I dig into pain and weariness and grief. So, there you have that bit of my thought process laid out for you to consider. But I do get tired of being tired and being pained is a pain. Sometimes you just think tant pis and keep going.

Also, I have a fast brain. At least I do when Hashimoto's is not controlling my existence (there's a limit to the control I'll grant it anymore, actually.) But my brain jumps fastest of all when it gets to science for some reason. I mean it cross references as I'm reading/ hearing something (which is what it always does when I read/ hear anything) but then it starts jumping to the implications of what I'm reading/ hearing and cross referencing and then to further implications and further and further ones. This is fun. Why am I not trying to be a scientist or phsyicist of some sort, I ask you? I mean this is really fun. But then, drinking is fun, too, and I always wonder as I'm getting sloshed (upon the somewhat rare occasions that I do get sloshed with friends), why am I not an alcoholic, chasing this warm slide into peaceful one-thought-ness on a daily basis? Dunno. Maybe because there are too many thoughts I want to have and I can't afford to whittle things down to one all the time.

But I do know that when my brain jumps around realizing the implications of science stuff, it goes so quickly that it's difficult for me to hand out bite size pieces afterwards. I would actually have to go back and retrace my thinking or even more like re-think my thinking to drag somebody else along with me. I said to a friend (who is not only fast when it comes to mindliness but can also damn well explain what the whole thing was about every step of the way) that when it comes to science I understand it but I just can't speak about it. And he thought that was very funny because we'd both been raised in the same kind of church groups and growing up, saying that you just couldn't speak about something implied that you were holier than whoever and that your knowledge kind of elevated you above them over there. So, what I said smacked of that foolishness (even though it wasn't) plus it just cracked him up that I couldn't verbalize something which is actually verbalize-able. Especially for him. Good for him, I say. I like to make my friends laugh and if that has to happen at my expense from time to time, so be it.

Still, I am what I am. And sometimes my brain goes too fast, which is fun, but I can't speak about it. Or at least not well. Or easily. My handwriting says the same thing. Since kindergarten, it's been seriously twitchy because my brain moves too fast for my hand to keep up. Learning to type was a relief of sorts except that it then created this kind of o.c.d. outlet wherein I typed anything anybody said for a while. Maybe I was just practicing. Maybe I wasn't lulu at all. Maybe.

Anyhoo, forget the drinking and the writing/ typing and the laughing and let's get back to science. I'll try to speak about it.

(to be continued...)

Thanks, Lukas. This is inner life stuff. I start with one part "God is not a pooper" and add another part of particle physics/ quantum mechanics, throw in a splash of a grand (almost) unified theory and realize that I've got more power than I thought.
Part of "more" is mine. I aim at everybody I love.
Gimme dat,

H+P

String Theory Prayer

Hey, I remember back to when I was sad and weary and my needs weren't met- when I was isolated and undone.

And I remember forward to when you healed all of my diseases and made every dream I have come true and flooded my entire life with love and comfort and rest. And joy- did I forget to mention the joy? Or the peace like a buzzing river that rearranges me right down to my very molecules and sub-particles and more?

Oh, I remember back to when they were crushed and brutally re-arranged, when they were confused and could not find one calm way forward- when they were unloved and made ugly.

And I remember forward to when you loved them and healed them and comforted them and gave them rest- a rest which overtook their children and their parents and their friends and their lovers and spread out a thousand thousand miles all around their lives.

Because I remember back to when he lied and stole and killed and destroyed.

For this I remember forward to when you spoke truth which ended every lie, you gave back what was stolen and stole even more from that thief. I remember forward to when you killed his power to harm and confuse and crush, when you destroyed territories and abilities he'd built up over centuries, taking a million times what he took from your own. This is vengeance. I see how you get it done.

I remember back to when we cried and would not be comforted. Could not be. Inconsolable here with years of backbreaking work between us and joy, between us and free choice.

And I remember forward to when you said hey, ain't nothin' but a thang. Here, I'll trade you beauty for those ashes and how about joy for your mourning? Sound fair? Never mind that timeline. This thing has already been done. Darling, you still just don't get how you are loved.

So now I sit in peace in the center of every time that ever was or is or ever more shall be. Nothing is lost. Nothing is lost. There is no striving here. I'm loved. I'm done. I needed this. I was made for this.

I like this time better than that other one before. Thanks, You. You're a good egg, God, and I don't mind saying it.