TIME, A BOOK, NO BEGINNING, NO END, MANY PAGES? ERMMM ???

 

"BIT OF A TOME THIS ONE!!!"

AS TIME PASSES BY?

No… We Pass Through It

There is an old expression we humans use with enormous confidence:

“As time passes by…”

No.

I don’t think it does.

I think we’ve got it completely backwards.

Time doesn’t Pass us by.

We Pass through Time.

There is a difference.

Perhaps it’s an enormous one.

We speak about Time as though it were some enormous celestial train hurtling past the platform while we stand still waving our handkerchiefs.

Time marches on.

Time flies.

Time waits for no man.

Time heals.

Time catches up with us.

Time runs out.

Time passes.

Poor, Old Time.

We’ve given it an astonishing number of responsibilities for something that may not actually be doing anything at all.

Perhaps Time is simply THERE.

Perhaps WE are the things moving.

Imagine, for a moment, that Time isn’t a River.

Imagine it is a BOOK.

Not an ordinary book.

There would be no cover.

No title page.

No copyright notice.

No irritating introduction by somebody explaining what you’re about to read when you’d rather just get on with reading it.

There is no first page.

There is no final page.

It simply exists.

An Infinite book.

Every event that has ever happened occupying its place somewhere within it.

Every Star Being Born.

Every, Civilization Rising.

Every, Civilization Collapsing.

Every First Kiss.

Every Last Breath.

Every war.

Every reconciliation.

Every child laughing.

Every Old Person Remembering.

Every Creature crawling from some 

Prehistoric Ocean.

Every Human being who ever looked upward and wondered:

“What the hell is all this?”

All there.

Page after page after page.

Somewhere within that impossible book…

Destiny plonks you down.

Not politely.

There isn’t necessarily a Trumpet Fanfare.

Nobody hands you an Instruction Manual.

You simply Arrive.

WOOSH !!!!

Birth.

Welcome to Existence.

Try Not To Break Anything.

Although, judging by Human History. 

We apparently ignored that Final Instruction almost Immediately.

⸻

THE PAGE WE ARE GIVEN

Nobody Remembers Arriving.

That’s peculiar when you think about it.

The Single Most Extraordinary Event of your Existence. 

Entering Existence itself.

But you don’t Remember 

a Bloody thing about it.

Other People Remember it.

Your Mother certainly did.

You?

Nothing.

One Moment, as far as your Conscious Memory is Concerned, you didn’t Exist.

Then Suddenly there are Fragments.

A Room.

A Face.

A Toy.

A Smell.

A Voice.

Sunlight through curtains.

Someone holding your hand.

Your First Little Memories begin Appearing like Photographs Scattered across a Table.

Gradually You Realise:

I am here.

But where is "HERE?"

What exactly is an "I" ?

Nobody Knows.

Human Beings have spent thousands of years trying to answer those Two Questions. 

Despite libraries full of Philosophy, Religion, Science, we’re still arguing.

Which is Rather Charming.

We’re Tiny Creatures. 

Standing on a Rock Spinning through Space. Confidently debating the Fundamental Nature of Existence, while frequently being unable to remember where we put our Spectacles.

Perhaps humility wouldn’t hurt.

Because each of us appear to have been given Something Astonishing.

A page.

Not Somebody Else’s Page.

YOURS.

Unique.

Completely Unique.

Like a Snowflake.

We use that comparison rather casually, but consider what it means.

A snowflake forms under conditions that will never precisely occur again.

Its Structure belongs to one moment.

It Falls.

It Exists Briefly.

Then…

WOOSH!!!

Gone.

Human Life Isn’t Entirely Different.

There Has Never Been Another You!!!

There Will Never Be Another You!!!

Even Identical Twins Don’t Experience Precisely The SAME Existence.

Every, Conversation changes us.

Every, Disappointment.

Every, Triumph.

Every, Person we Love.

Every, Person we Dislike.

Every, Stupid Mistake.

Every, Kindness nobody notices.

Every, Cruelty somebody never forgets.

Every road taken.

Every road avoided.

Every, Tiny decision nudges the story somewhere else.

Eventually, Our Unique Little Snowflake Lands.

Melts.

Disappears.

The Universe Continues.

Rather Rude, Really.

You’d think it might Stop for Five Minutes.

⸻

DESTINY ENTERS THE LIBRARY

Now things become interesting.

Because if Time is a Book, One Uncomfortable Question Immediately appears.

Has It Already Been Written?

Enter Destiny.

Destiny has Always Fascinated Us.

Every Culture Seems 

To have Wrestled with the Idea.

FATE.

Providence.

Karma.

Divine Plan.

Predestination.

Cosmic Order.

We Humans Desperately want to Know 

whether there is a Plot.

Partly because we’d like Reassurance.

Partly because we’d like 

Someone, else to Blame.

If Everything is Predetermined, 

Then perhaps our Disasters,

 aren’t entirely Our Responsibility.

HOW, Very Convenient.

“Sorry about Destroying Civilization. Destiny.”

Nice Try.

But Suppose there Really,

is a Predetermined Structure?

Suppose Your Page Already Exists.

Every Person You’ll Meet.

Every Choice You’ll Make.

Every Triumph.

Every Heartbreak.

Every Ridiculous Haircut.

Every Moment.

Already Written.

Then What Exactly Is 

"FREE WILL" ???

Are we Characters who mistakenly Believe. 

We’re Authors ?

Hamlet bBelieves he is Making Decisions.

We know Shakespeare has Already written 

Act V.

Imagine Handing Hamlet the Complete Script.

That would certainly Ruin his Afternoon.

He’d Flick through it.

“Let’s See… Denmark… Ghost… Ophelia… 

Sword Fight…”

Pause.

“Oh, for God’s Sake.”

Would Hamlet, 

then be able to change the ending?

If he could, Shakespeare would no longer completely control the story.

If he couldn’t, 

Hamlet’s awareness would be meaningless.

There, lies one of Humanity’s Oldest Puzzles.

Are We Following the Script?

Or Writing It?

Perhaps Both ???

⸻

MAYBE, WE WRITE IN THE MARGINS

What if Destiny doesn’t Determine Everything?

Perhaps Destiny merely provides the page.

The Boundaries.

The Circumstances.

Where you Were Born.

When you Were Born.

The Body you Arrived in.

The Century.

The Culture.

The Family.

The Genetics.

The Historical Circumstances.

None of, Us Chooses Those.

At Least Not Knowingly.

You didn’t Sit in 

Some Celestial Departure Lounge 

before Birth Saying:

“Hmm. Let’s see. Renaissance Florence looks Interesting.

But sanitation is questionable. 

Victorian England? 

Lovely Architecture, Terrible Dentistry. 

Twenty-first Century??? 

Internet, antibiotics, central heating… Yes!!! 

"I’ll risk it.”

You Arrived Somewhere.

Then the Improvisation began.

Perhaps that is Free Will !?!?!?

Not Choosing the Page.

But choosing what we 'write upon it'.

We Scribble in the Margins.

Cross Things Out.

Make Mistakes.

Try Again ?

Occasionally, Spill Tea over the Whole Thing.

Sometimes another Person wanders across our Page and Changes everything.

A Stranger becomes a Friend.

A Friend becomes a Lover.

A Lover becomes a Memory.

Someone says One Sentence that Changes the Direction of your Entire Life.

They May Not Even Remember saying it.

But You Do !!!.

One Human Page Overlaps Another.

Then Another.

Then Another.

Suddenly the Book isn’t a Collection of Individual Stories at All.

It’s a Gigantic Web.

Perhaps there are no completely separate pages.

Perhaps Every Page 

Touches Thousands of Others.

⸻

THE PEOPLE WHO CHANGED YOUR STORY WITHOUT KNOWING

Think about how many 

People have Influenced Your Existence.

Not Merely Parents, Partners, 

Teachers or Friends.

Strangers.

The Person who Invented something you use every day.

The Farmer who grew something you Ate.

The Engineer who Designed

 a bridge you crossed.

The Doctor whose Research Created a Treatment Decades before You needed it.

The Writer whose Sentence 

Made You Think Differently.

The Musician whose Song helped,

 You Survive a Miserable Night.

The Ancestor who made One Tiny Decision Centuries Ago. 

Without which You Wouldn’t Exist.

One Person turns Left instead of Right.

Meets Someone.

Falls in Love.

Has a Child.

Generations Later…

You !!!

Change ONE Tiny Event... 

Perhaps your ENTIRE Family Line Disappears.

This is Where Time Begins becoming 

Almost Unbearably Strange.

Because Every Present Moment, Stands on an Unimaginable Tower of Previous Moments.

YOU, are not Merely Living in 2026.

YOU, are Standing Upon Billions of Years of Events that HAD  to Occur for YOU to be READING These WORDS.

Stars HAD  to FORM.

Stars HAD  to DIE.

Elements HAD to be FORGED.

Planets HAD to FORM.

Earth HAD to Survive COLLISIONS.

Life HAD to EMERGE.

Evolution HAD  to stumble along through catastrophe after catastrophe.

Your Ancestors had to Survive Disease, Predators, Wars, Accidents, Childbirth, Famine and One Another.

Every One of them had to 

Reproduce before Dying.

One Missed Encounter Anywhere along that Chain BOOM!!!

NO YOU !!!

That’s Astonishing.

Not, Necessarily Evidence of Destiny.

But Certainly Evidence that Existence is Far Stranger than our Morning Routines Suggest.

⸻

WE LIVE AS THOUGH WE HAVE FOREVER

Yet, We Waste Time Magnificently.

Humans Know They’re MORTAL.

That’s One of the 

Peculiar Burdens of Consciousness.

A Dog may Understand Danger.

An Elephant Appears Capable of Grief.

Many Animals,

 Clearly Recognise Death in Some Form.

But Human Beings can Sit Perfectly safely in an Armchair, contemplate their Own Nonexistence Fifty years in Advance.

What a GIFT !!!

Naturally, we’ve used this Extraordinary Cognitive Ability, mainly to Worry at Three o’clock in the Morning.

We Know the Page Ends.

We Just Don’t Know Where.

That’s the Trick.

If Every Person knew their Exact Date of Death, Civilization would become Very Strange Indeed.

Imagine Receiving a Certificate at Birth.

DATE OF ARRIVAL: 29th September.

DATE OF DEPARTURE: 

Classified until further Notice.

Probably Wise.

Because Uncertainty Gives Life Urgency.

Or at Least it Should.

Instead, We Behave as though WE Possess Unlimited Pages.

“I’ll Call Them Tomorrow.”

“I’ll Travel Someday.”

“I’ll Tell Them Later.”

“I’ll Apologise Next Week.”

“I’ll Start Living When…”

When What?

When the Mortgage is Paid?

When You’re Thinner?

Richer?

Retired?

More Confident?

When the Children Grow Up?

When Circumstances Become Perfect?

Human Beings are Astonishingly Talented at Postponing LIFE WWaiting for Life to BEGIN.

Meanwhile the Page is Turning.

Not Because Time is Passing.

Because "WE ARE !!!"

⸻

THE GREAT LIBRARY

Now Imagine stepping back.

Far back.

Beyond, your life.

Beyond Humanity.

Beyond Earth.

Imagine the Universe as a Library.

What a Library.

Our Little Page suddenly becomes Microscopic.

Earth becomes One Volume among Billions.

Perhaps Trillions.

Stars stretch like shelves into distances the Human Mind cannot Comfortably Comprehend.

Galaxies become Collections.

Galaxy Clusters become Entire Wings.

Beyond what we can observe?

We don’t Know.

That phrase Deserves more Respect.

We Don’t Know.

Three Magnificent Words.

Science Begins There.

Philosophy Begins There.

Wonder Begins There.

Religion, at its Best, can Begin There Too.

The Trouble Starts when Somebody Changes:

“We don’t know”

into:

“I Know Exactly, & Anyone Who Disagrees with Me Deserves Trouble.”

Human History, then becomes 

Considerably Bloodier.

Perhaps the Universe would Benefit, if We became Comfortable with Mystery again.

Because, the Shelves Appear Endless.

As, we’ve barely left the Children’s section.

⸻

THE BOOKS WE HAVEN’T OPENED

What remains Undiscovered?

Almost Everything.

That May Sound Exaggerated.

It Isn’t.

We Understand Enormously,

More than Our Ancestors did.

We’ve Mapped Genomes.

Split Atoms.

Detected Gravitational Waves.

Sent Machines Beyond the Planets.

Photographed Black Holes.

Built Instruments capable of seeing Galaxies. Whose Light began Travelling toward Us Billions of Years Ago.

That is Extraordinary.

A Primate Descended from Creatures that once Hid from Predators in Trees has learned to Interrogate the Cosmos.

Give Humanity Credit.

Occasionally We’re Magnificent.

But Every Answer,

seems to Uncover Ten More Questions.

What Exactly is Consciousness?

We Know Brains Matter.

Damage the Brain and Personality, Memory & Perception can Change.

But Why should Electrical and Chemical Activity produce Subjective Experience?

Why should anything....

 FEEL LIKE ANYTHING ???

Why isn’t the Brain merely Processing Information in Darkness?

Why is there an Inner World?

Why are You Experiencing Being You?

We Don’t Know.

Then there’s the Universe Itself.

Why does Anything Exist?

Why these Physical Laws?

Why does 

Mathematics Describe Nature so Effectively?

What is dark matter?

What is dark energy?

What happened at the earliest moments of the universe?

Does asking what happened “BEFORE” the Universe even make sense if Time itself Emerged with it?

Are there Dimensions beyond those we Experience?

Is Our Universe One of Many?

Is Intelligent Life Common?

Rare?

Are We Early?

Late?

Alone?

Surrounded?

Has Somebody already Looked Toward our Little Region of the Galaxy & Wondered Exactly the Same Thing?

Somewhere, perhaps another Creature is Staring into Another Sky asking:

“Is Anybody THERE???”

Perhaps, Neither of Us Knows the Other Exists.

Two Readers in different Corners of the Library.

⸻

THEN WE FIND SOMETHING

This is where We should Probably Worry.

Because Humans are Wonderful Explorers.

Unfortunately, We also have the Instincts of Toddlers who have discovered the Kitchen Drawer.

Find something Interesting.

Touch It.

Take it Apart.

See Whether it BURNS.

See Whether it  EXPLODES.

See Whether Somebody will BUY it.

See Whether We can OWN it.

See Whether it can be WEAPONIZED.

Humanity discovers Fire:

“Wonderful! We can Cook Food.”

Shortly Afterwards:

“Can We BURN that Village?”

We Discover Metals.

Tools!

Agriculture!

Architecture!

Also SWORDS !!!

We Discover Chemistry.

Medicines!

Fertilizer!

Materials!

Also EXPLOSIVES !!!.

We Understand Atoms.

Energy!

Medicine!

Physics!

Also…

Hiroshima.

Nagasaki.

We Create, Global Communications.

Human Knowledge, Instantly Available!

People across Continents Connected!

Every Library at Our Fingertips!

Within approximately five minutes. 

Somebody is arguing with a Stranger about whether the Earth is flat.

You have to admire Our Consistency.

We are Simultaneously Brilliant & Ridiculous.

Perhaps that is Our Defining Characteristic.

⸻

DISCOVER & OR DESTROY?

So when We Ask what is hidden on the Cosmic Shelves, another question follows:

Are We Mature enough to Find It?

Suppose tomorrow.... 

We Discovered Unlimited Clean Energy  ???

 

Would We Share It?

Or Patent It?

Suppose We Discovered

Intelligent Extraterrestrial Life.

Would We Approach with Curiosity?

Fear???

Weapons???

Religious Conversion Pamphlets???

A Licensing Agreement???

Suppose We Discovered a Habitable Planet.

Would Our First Thought Be:

“What Can We Learn?”

Or:

“Who Owns The Mineral Rights?”

Perhaps the Greatest Challenge,

Facing Humanity Isn’t Technological.

Perhaps it’s Psychological.

We’ve acquired extraordinary tools while Retaining Ancient Instincts.

Tribalism.

Fear.

Greed.

Dominance.

Territory.

Status.

US 

Versus 

Them.

Our Technology has 

Evolved far Faster than Our Wisdom.

A Caveman with a Club 

can Harm Several People.

A Modern Human

with certain Technologies can Harm Millions.

Same Ape.

Better Equipment.

That Should Concern US.

Because perhaps the Universe 

isn’t hiding its Secrets from US.

Perhaps We’re Simply 

Not Ready to be Trusted with the Keys.

⸻

WHAT IF WE ARE THE CHILDREN’S SECTION?

Imagine Intelligent Civilizations Millions of Years Older than Ours.

Not Hundreds.

Millions.

Human Civilization, 

measured against Cosmic Time, 

is barely an Eye Blink.

Modern Science is Younger still.

Our Technological Civilization, 

is Effectively a Newborn.

Perhaps somewhere there are Societies so Ancient that Our Greatest Achievements would seem to them like Finger Painting.

Not because Humans are Stupid.

Because we’re YOUNG.

A Five-Year-Old isn’t Stupid because they can’t understand Quantum Mechanics.

They’re Simply Not There Yet.

Perhaps humanity is five years old.

Unfortunately, the five-year-old 

has Nuclear Weapons.

That Changes the atmosphere,

 at the Birthday Party.

Maybe Surviving Technological Adolescence is one of the Great Filters of Intelligent Life.

Can a Species become Powerful Enough to Destroy Itself. 

Before becoming Wise Enough NOT TO ?

WE DON'T KNOW  !!! ???

But We’re Conducting the Experiment.

Live.

No Rehearsal.

⸻

WHO WROTE THIS TROPE?

Now we reach your Delicious Question.

Who or What was Clever enough to write this Extraordinary Trope?

Who Wrote the Book?

Human Beings have been asking versions of that question since we first became capable of asking questions.

God?

Gods?

Nature?

Chance?

Mathematics?

Some Universal Consciousness?

A simulation?

An intelligence beyond comprehension?

Or nobody?

Every answer creates another Question.

Suppose God Created the Universe.

Then naturally:

Who created God?

Religion may answer that God is Eternal & requires No Creator.

Fair enough, as a Theological Proposition.

But then the Philosopher wanders in and asks:

If something can exist Eternally without a Creator, why couldn’t Existence itself?

Suddenly, everybody needs Tea.

Suppose the Universe, 

emerged Naturally from Physical Laws.

Fine.

Why those Laws?

Where did they come from?

Why is there a framework 

capable of producing anything?

Suppose Reality is Mathematical.

Why mathematics?

Suppose we’re living in a simulation.

Wonderful.

Who built the Simulator?

What Universe are "THEY" Living In?

You’ve merely moved God 

Upstairs & given Him a Computer.

The Ultimate Origin Question,

Refuses to Behave.

Every Explanation seems,

to require another Explanation.

Turtles all the way down.

Or perhaps, no Turtles at all.

⸻

MAYBE THE BOOK HAS NO AUTHOR

This Possibility Bothers people.

Perhaps Existence, wasn’t Written.

Perhaps there, is no External Author.

Perhaps the book, simply "IS".

No Beginning.

No Ending.

No Outside.

No Before.

No After.

Reality Existing, because non-existence was never Actually an Option.

Try Imagining Absolute Nothing.

Not Empty Space.

Empty Space is Something.

Not Darkness.

Darkness Requires, a Concept of Light.

Not Silence.

Silence requires the possibility of sound.

Absolute Nothing.

No Space.

No Time.

No Laws.

No possibility.

No observer.

Nothing.

Can such a State even meaningfully. EXIST ???

The, Word Defeats Itself.

Perhaps, the.....

"True Mystery Isn’t Why There Is Something".

Perhaps, "Nothingness Is Impossible."

Now There’s a Thought Capable of Ruining a Perfectly Pleasant Afternoon.

⸻

OR "PERHAPS THE BOOK WRITES ITSELF"

There is another Possibility.

Perhaps the Universe is both Book & Author.

Reality, Unfolding according, to its Own Nature.

Stars, Forming.

Planets, Emerging.

Chemistry, becoming Biology.

Biology, becoming Life.

Life, becoming Awareness.

Awareness, becoming Consciousness.

Consciousness, looking back at the Universe.

Suddenly something Remarkable Happens.

The story begins to "Read Itself".

Think about that.

The Atoms inside your Brain were Forged through Cosmic Processes.

The Calcium in your Bones.

The Iron Associated with Your Blood.

The Carbon forming 

Life’s Molecular Scaffolding.

You aren’t merely, 

Standing Inside the Universe Looking Outward.

You are made "OF IT !!!"

There Isn’t Really... “YOU” Here 

 &  

“The Universe” ... Over There.

You are a Tiny Arrangement of the Universe Temporarily Capable of Consciousness.

So when You look upward and ask:

“What is the Universe?”

perhaps the Universe, through you, is asking:

“What am I?”

That is Rather Beautiful.

And magnificently strange.

⸻

CONSCIOUSNESS: 

THE UNIVERSE’S MIRROR?

Perhaps Consciousness is the 

Most Mysterious shelf in the Entire Library.

A Rock Exists.

Does it Know it Exists?

Presumably Not.

A Star Exists.

Does it Know?

We have No Evidence that it Does.

Then Life Appears.

Eventually Brains.

Awareness.

Memory.

Imagination.

Somewhere along that Evolutionary road emerges a Creature capable not only of Experiencing Reality but Imagining Realities that don’t Exist.

Humans can Remember Yesterday.

Imagine Tomorrow.

Invent Fictional Worlds.

Contemplate Infinity.

Fear Death.

Write Poetry.

Compose symphonies.

Calculate the age of stars.

Tell jokes.

Love People who are Gone.

We can even Think about our Own Thinking.

That’s Extraordinary.

Perhaps Consciousness isn’t some Accidental Side Effect.

Perhaps it is Fundamental.

Or perhaps it is Entirely Emergent from Biology.

We Don’t Know.

Again those Three Glorious Words.

But whichever answer Eventually proves Closer to Reality, Consciousness Remains Astonishing.

Because through Consciousness, the Page becomes Aware that it is Part of the Book.

⸻

DEATH: THE PAGE TURNING

Inevitably we arrive at Death.

The Subject, Humans Spend Enormous Energy. Avoiding, Despite knowing perfectly. Well how the Story Ends.

Every Civilization develops

 Rituals around Death.

Burial.

Cremation.

Mourning.

Memorials.

Prayer.

Stories of Continuation.

Stories of Resurrection.

Stories of reincarnation.

Stories of Ancestors.

Stories of Heaven.

Stories of Returning to Nature.

Why?

Because Consciousness Struggles,

with the Idea of its Own Disappearance.

I can Imagine a World without You.

You can Imagine a World without Me.

But try genuinely Imagining a World without Your Own Awareness.

You can’t Observe Your Own Absence.

The Mind Hits a Wall.

Perhaps Something Continues.

Perhaps Not.

Anyone claiming Absolute Certainty is claiming knowledge beyond what Ordinary Human Evidence can Establish.

There may be Spiritual Realities

 We haven’t Discovered.

There, May Not.

The Mystery Remains.

But One Thing is Undeniable.

When Someone Dies. 

Their Influence Doesn’t Simply Vanish.

Their Page has Touched Others.

Their Words Remain in Memories.

Their Kindness changes Behaviour.

Their Cruelty can Too.

Their Children carry Genes, Stories & Habits.

Their Work may Survive.

Their Jokes get Repeated.

Their Recipes are Cooked.

Their Expressions Sneak

 into Another Generation.

Someone catches Themselves saying something Exactly the Way their 

Mother Used to Say It.

So For One Tiny Moment…

There She Is.

Perhaps Immortality doesn’t Need to Mean an Eternal Individual Consciousness is Profound.

We Ripple through One Another.

⸻

THE LIBRARY NEVER LOSES A PAGE

Imagine Every Human Whoever Lived.

Not Merely the Famous.

Forget Emperors for a moment.

Forget Presidents.

Forget Kings.

Forget Conquerors.

History Loves Important People 

because, they Left Paperwork.

But most Human Lives were lived Anonymously.

A Prehistoric Mother holding her baby

during a Storm.

A Child laughing beside a River 

Ten Thousand Years ago.

An Old Man telling stories beside a fire.

Someone falling in Love in a Village whose Name is Forgotten.

Someone Grieving.

Someone Dancing.

Someone Terrified.

Someone Hopeful.

Billions upon Billions of Human Experiences.

Gone from Recorded History.

But they Happened.

That Matters.

A Life doesn’t become meaningless merely because nobody wrote it down.

The Universe Witnessed it, if nothing else.

For one moment in Cosmic History, that Consciousness Existed.

That Snowflake Formed.

No Duplicate.

No Replacement.

Then…

WOOSH !!!

Gone.

Perhaps that’s tragic.

Perhaps that’s beautiful.

Perhaps it’s both.

⸻

THE ARROGANCE OF PERMANENCE

Humans build Monuments because we dislike Impermanence.

We Carve names into Stone.

We Erect Statues.

Build Pyramids.

Name Streets.

Write Books.

Take Photographs.

Store Billions of Digital Images.

We Shout into TIME:

“I WAS HERE!!!”

Time replies with Magnificent Indifference.

Mountains Erode.

Continents Move.

Stars Die.

Even Galaxies Change.

Nothing Physical we know appears 

Guaranteed Permanence.

Perhaps that’s, Precisely Why Moments Matter.

A Sunset isn’t Worthless,

because it Lasts Minutes.

Music isn’t Meaningless because,

the Final Note Eventually sounds.

A Meal isn’t Pointless because it gets Eaten.

A Conversation isn’t Worthless because it Ends.

A Life doesn’t need Eternity to Possess Value.

Maybe, Fragility Creates Value.

The Snowflake is beautiful Because it melts.

⸻

WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH OUR PAGE?

Now we reach the Practical Problem.

Because Philosophy is Delightful until somebody asks what we’re actually 

supposed to do Monday Morning.

If we’re Temporary Readers Wandering through an Infinite Book, what Matters?

Perhaps less than We Think.

Perhaps more.

The Universe Probably doesn’t care whether you Own the Newest Car.

It may not be Emotionally Invested, 

in Your Kitchen Renovation.

Galaxies, are Unlikely to Notice Your Job Title.

The Cosmos, has Survived quite comfortably, without Knowing your Credit Score.

But other Conscious Beings, Care how you Treat them.

Perhaps that’s Enough.

Kindness, changes Pages.

Cruelty, changes Pages.

Curiosity, changes Pages.

Courage, changes Pages.

Love, REALLY Changes Pages.

A Single Act can Travel much Further than the Person Performing it Ever Knows.

Perhaps meaning isn’t Hidden Somewhere in the Library Waiting to be Discovered.

Perhaps Meaning is Something Readers, 

Create While Passing Through !!!

⸻

FREE WILL RETURNS .......

So are we free?

I Don’t Know.

Nobody Truly Does.

Our choices are Influenced by 

Biology, Upbringing, Circumstance, Culture, Subconscious, processes & countless factors outside Conscious Awareness.

Perhaps Our Freedom is Smaller 

than, We Imagine.

But Even Limited Freedom Matters.

A Prisoner Choosing Whether to Comfort another Prisoner exercises something Meaningful.

A Frightened Person, Choosing Courage.

An Angry Person, Choosing Restraint.

A Powerful Person, Choosing Mercy.

A Wounded Person Choosing,

Not to Pass the Wound Onward.

Maybe Free Will Isn’t Absolute Control 

over the Story.

Maybe it’s the Ability,

 to Choose certain Sentences.

Destiny Gives Us the Page.

Circumstance, Stains It.

Other People ,Scribble On It.

Chance Tears Corners Off.

But Somewhere Among all that Chaos We still Hold a Pen.

Perhaps.

Maybe... Perhaps is Enough to make Responsibility Matter.

⸻

WHAT IF DESTINY ISN’T A PERSON?

We’ve Personified Destiny 

throughout this Little Adventure.

It’s Fun.

I Imagine Destiny,

wearing spectacles,

carrying an Enormous filing system.

“Christian?”

“Yes?”

“Page 47.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

“But…”

“PAGE 47.”

Rather Bureaucratic,

for an Eternal Cosmic Force.

But perhaps Destiny isn’t an Entity at All.

Perhaps Destiny is Simply the name we give Patterns when Looking Backward.

Something Happens.

Then Another Thing.

Years Later We Connect Them.

“It was Meant to Be.”

Was it?

Maybe.

Or perhaps Human Brains are Magnificent Pattern-making Machines.

We build Narratives because stories help us Understand Chaos.

Sometimes those Narratives

Reveal Genuine Structure.

Sometimes They Merely Comfort US.

Distinguishing between the Two is Difficult.

But maybe We don’t have to Murder Mystery simply because We can’t Prove Destiny Exists.

Wonder & Scepticism can share the same table.

They Might even enjoy Afternoon Tea !?!?

⸻

THE CLOCK IS NOT THE TIME

We’ve Confused clocks with Time.

A Clock measures Intervals.

That’s Useful.

Without Clocks we’d miss trains, 

appointment & dinner reservations.

Civilization would collapse, 

although possibly,

in a surprisingly relaxed manner.

But the numbers aren’t Time Itself.

Midnight isn’t a Physical Wall.

Tuesday isn’t floating through Space.

September, doesn’t exist independently 

in the Cosmos.

These are Human Systems.

Useful Systems.

Brilliant Systems.

But, Systems nonetheless.

The Universe isn’t wearing a wristwatch.

Our experience of Time is Stranger.

Five minutes, waiting for important medical news can feel eternal.

Five hours with someone you Adore can disappear Instantly.

A Childhood summer once seemed endless.

As adults, years seem to Gallop.

Same Clocks.

Different Experience.

Perhaps psychological Time is partly constructed by Consciousness.

Which makes our Old saying even more questionable.

“As Time Passes…”

Maybe Time isn’t Passing.

Maybe awareness is moving through changing states and calling the movement Time.

⸻

WHAT IF ALL THE PAGES ALREADY EXIST?

Modern Physics complicates matters further.

Relativity teaches us that Time isn’t completely separate from Space.

Space and Time form spacetime.

Different observers can disagree about durations and simultaneity depending upon motion and gravity.

There is no single Universal Cosmic clock ticking identically everywhere.

That’s not philosophy.

That’s physics.

Which is deeply inconsiderate of physics because reality was confusing enough already.

Some interpretations encourage a picture sometimes called a “Block Universe,” in which past, present and future are all parts of spacetime.

That doesn’t prove Destiny.

It doesn’t prove your future is fixed in the ordinary sense.

But it does challenge our Intuitive feeling that only the present is real and the future doesn’t yet exist.

Perhaps the book metaphor isn’t entirely ridiculous.

Maybe the pages exist in ways we don’t naturally perceive.

We experience them sequentially because that’s how consciousness travels through them.

Reader through Book.

Life through Time.

⸻

THEN WHAT IS NOW?

Try catching the present moment.

There.

Gone.

Try Again.

Gone.

Every word you just read is already in your past.

The sentence you’re about to read is your future.

Now read it.

It became present.

And now it is past.

Where exactly was the boundary?

The present seems real.

Yet it has no obvious duration.

If it lasts one second, half of that second is already past before the second finishes.

Reduce it further.

Milliseconds.

Microseconds.

Smaller.

Eventually “NOW” begins looking less like a place and more like a moving interface between memory and anticipation.

We Live on the razor’s edge.

Behind us: Memory.

Ahead: Possibility.

Beneath our feet:

NOW.

Perhaps that’s why so many Spiritual traditions Emphasize Presence.

Not because the Past doesn’t matter.

Not because planning is foolish.

But because this tiny moving window is the only place where experience actually seems to occur.

⸻

THE GREAT HUMAN CONTRADICTION

We are Mortal Creatures obsessed with permanence.

Tiny Creatures obsessed with Importance.

Ignorant Creatures obsessed with certainty.

Social Creatures who continually divide ourselves into groups.

Intelligent Creatures who repeatedly do Astonishingly stupid things.

Compassionate Creatures capable of Extraordinary Cruelty.

Violent creatures Capable of Extraordinary tenderness.

We build Hospital & Bombs.

Libraries & Prisons.

Schools & Propaganda.

Cathedrals & Concentration Camps.

We Rescue Strangers from Burning Buildings.

We kill Strangers because someone tells us they’re the Enemy.

Humanity isn’t easily summarized.

We’re Contradictory.

Maybe that’s why Our Page remains Interesting.

If We were Entirely Good, the Story would be Simpler.

If Entirely Evil, Equally Simple.

Instead we’re capable of Both.

Sometimes before breakfast.

⸻

PERHAPS THE UNIVERSE IS WAITING

What if Intelligence has a Test?

Not imposed by some Celestial examiner.

A Natural Test.

Can Intelligence Survive Itself?

Can Knowledge Outrun Wisdom without Catastrophe?

Can Technology become Powerful without power Destroying its creators?

Can Tribal animals become Planetary Citizens?

Can Creatures Evolved to compete Learn enough Cooperation to Survive?

Perhaps every Technological Civilization Eventually reaches this Point.

The moment when it becomes Capable of either Leaving its Cradle…

or Burning It.

Maybe the Silent Stars aren’t Silent because Nobody ever Lived There.

Maybe they’re Silent because most Civilizations Don’t Make it Past Adolescence.

Or Perhaps They’re Wisely Avoiding Us.

One Glance at Our Broadcasts &:

“Lock The Doors.”

Can’t Entirely Blame Them.

⸻

BUT DON’T WRITE US OFF

For All Our Stupidity, Humans Possess Something Worth Defending.

"WE CARE"

Not Always.

Not Enough.

But Astonishingly Often.

People Run into Danger to Save Strangers.

Parents Sacrifice for Children.

Children Care for Aging Parents.

Doctors Work through Disasters.

Volunteers Search Rubble.

Neighbours Bring Food.

People Donate Organs to People

They’ve Never Met.

Someone sits beside a Dying Person Simply so They Won’t Be Alone.

No Headlines.

No Statues.

No History Books.

Just One Consciousness Saying to Another:

“You Matter.”

Perhaps that is among the Finest Sentences Written Anywhere in the BOOK.

Perhaps that’s, 

Why I Wouldn’t write Humanity Off Yet !!!

We are Unfinished.

A Draft.

Messy.

Covered in Corrections.

Several Pages Appear to Have Coffee Stains.

Somebody has Drawn Something Obscene in the Margin.

But Unfinished isn’t Hopeless.

⸻

THE UNIVERSE AS LIBRARY

So Return to Our Library.

Walk Between the Shelves.

Past the Shelf Marked:

EARTH.

Past:

SOLAR SYSTEM.

Past:

MILKY WAY.

Keep Walking.

Galaxies Upon Galaxies.

Books We cannot Reach.

Languages We Cannot Read.

Questions We haven’t Learned how to Ask.

Somewhere Perhaps:

THE NATURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS.

Another Shelf:

WHAT CAME BEFORE?

Another:

OTHER INTELLIGENT LIFE.

Another:

THE TRUE NATURE OF TIME.

Another:

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER DEATH?

Another:

WHY ANYTHING EXISTS AT ALL.

You Reach for One.

Locked.

Typical.

Humanity finds itself in the Greatest Library Imaginable& has been issued a Library card granting Access to approximately half a shelf.

Naturally We’ve already begun Arguing about who Owns the Building.

⸻

PERHAPS WE ARE NOT MEANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING

That Possibility Annoys Us.

We like Answers.

Maybe some questions Exceed Human Cognitive Architecture.

A dog can be Intelligent & still never Understand Calculus.

Not because calculus is Mystical.

Because the dog’s brain wasn’t built for it.

Perhaps there are aspects of reality similarly beyond us.

Our brains Evolved primarily to Survive.

Find Food.

Avoid Predators.

Navigate Social groups.

Reproduce.

Recognizing the ultimate structure of reality wasn’t necessarily part of the package.

Yet somehow those survival brains learned mathematics and built telescopes.

So perhaps we shouldn’t underestimate ourselves either.

The monkey has surprised everyone.

Including the Monkey.

⸻

ONE PAGE

And after wandering across infinity, we’re brought back to something very small.

One Life.

Yours.

Mine.

Anyone’s.

A page.

Maybe seventy years.

Eighty.

Ninety.

A Hundred.

Perhaps five minutes.

Nobody is guaranteed a particular length.

That’s the cruelty and beauty of the arrangement.

We don’t know where Destiny placed the final punctuation mark.

Perhaps that’s why we should stop behaving as though life begins later.

Later is a hypothesis.

Now is evidence.

Call someone.

Forgive someone if forgiveness is deserved.

Walk away when walking away is necessary.

Create something.

Learn something.

Laugh.

Be ridiculous occasionally.

Stand under stars.

Ask impossible questions.

Love somebody.

Love several people in different ways.

Help a stranger.

Plant something you’ll never sit beneath.

Leave a sentence on another person’s page worth remembering.

Because whatever Time ultimately is…

Our passage through it appears brief.

 EVENTUALLY…

The Library grows quiet.

Our Reader has travelled a long way.

The page is covered with writing.

Some beautiful.

Some embarrassing.

Some crossed out.

Some sentences never completed.

Names fill the margins.

People loved.

People lost.

Places visited.

Mistakes made.

Lessons learned far too late.

There are tears on parts of the page.

Laughter on others.

Eventually…

Destiny approaches.

No trumpet.

No thunder.

No dramatic music.

Perhaps merely a Gentle Presence.

The reader looks up.

“Already?”

Destiny nods.

“But I’m not finished.”

Destiny smiles.

“Nobody ever is.”

The Reader looks down.

There were still things to do.

Questions unanswered.

People to see.

Words unsaid.

Books unread.

Places unexplored.

Mysteries unsolved.

“Can I have another page?”

Destiny doesn’t answer.

Perhaps cannot.

Perhaps will not.

Perhaps another page exists somewhere we cannot see.

The reader reluctantly releases the book.

Then…

WOOSH.

A Snowflake melts.

A Consciousness disappears from our view.

A Page turns.

⸻

SOMEWHERE ELSE

A Child takes its first breath.

Eyes open.

Tiny fingers move.

Nobody knows what that life will become.

Scientist?

Artist?

Teacher?

Troublemaker?

Parent?

Explorer?

Nobody famous at all?

It doesn’t matter.

A fresh consciousness has entered the library.

A New Reader.

A new page.

Destiny has plonked another human into Time.

No Instructions.

No Map.

No Explanation.

Just:

Here You Are !!!

Make something of it.

⸻

AS TIME PASSES BY?

So perhaps we should retire the phrase.

Time may not be going anywhere.

Maybe it isn’t rushing.

Maybe it isn’t running out.

Maybe it isn’t chasing us.

Maybe Time is the vast book.

The impossible library.

The stage upon which reality unfolds.

We…

We are the Travellers.

The readers.

The characters.

Perhaps even, in some tiny way, the co-authors.

We arrive somewhere in the middle.

We read a few paragraphs.

Write a few lines.

Meet other characters.

Laugh.

Cry.

Love.

Fight.

Build.

Destroy.

Learn.

Forget.

Wonder.

Then leave.

The book remains.

Perhaps somewhere beyond our understanding, every page remains too.

Maybe nothing is truly lost.

Maybe everything is.

We don’t know.

Perhaps the mystery itself is part of the gift.

Because if we knew every answer…

If every shelf were open…

If every ending were revealed…

If Destiny handed us the completed script at birth…

Would we still experience wonder?

Would courage mean anything if we knew the outcome?

Would hope?

Would faith?

Would choice?

Would discovery?

Perhaps uncertainty isn’t a flaw in existence.

Perhaps it is one of its essential ingredients.

Maybe we’re supposed to turn the page without knowing what comes next.

⸻

THE LAST QUESTION

Still one question sits waiting in the darkness beyond the shelves.

Older than Civilization.

Older than Religion.

Older than Philosophy.

Perhaps older than Stars.

Who wrote the book?

God?

Nature?

Mathematics?

Chance?

Consciousness?

Everything?

Nothing?

Perhaps one day Humanity 

will discover the answer.

Perhaps we’ll open the final locked door and find an explanation so beautiful that every argument suddenly becomes irrelevant.

Perhaps we’ll discover there never was a door.

Perhaps the answer has been around us all along and we’re simply 

incapable of recognizing it.

Or perhaps the universe will remain wonderfully, infuriatingly silent.

Maybe that’s all right.

Because perhaps our job was never to 

possess the library.

Perhaps our job was simply to 

Read our Page Well.

To leave the margins a little kinder than we found them.

To discover without destroying.

To question without hating 

those who answer differently.

To understand that certainty 

is not the same thing as truth.

To realise that every stranger we meet is carrying a page every bit as fragile as ours.

To remember that nobody knows how many paragraphs remain.

Occasionally…

to stop.

Look up.

See the impossible universe stretching overhead.

Appreciate the sheer absurd magnificence of being here at all.

Because against all conceivable odds, for this tiny interval…

You are conscious.

You are reading.

You are thinking.

You are wondering.

You are here.

Not forever.

But Now.

Perhaps Now is enough.

So the next time somebody sighs:

“As Time passes by…”

Smile.

Shake your head.

No.

Time isn’t passing us.

We are passing through it.

One fragile page at a time.

One, Extraordinary Snowflake after Another.

Through a Book with no beginning that we can find…

Perhaps no ending.

Somewhere in that unfathomable cosmic library, surrounded by billions upon billions of unopened volumes, humanity stands on tiptoe, reaching toward the next shelf and asking the question that has driven us from caves to telescopes:

“WHAT ELSE IS IN HERE?”

And the Universe appears to whisper:

“Turn the page.”

So we do.

Because whatever else we may be…

"We are Curious Little Buggers"

And perhaps, in the end, that is precisely what will save us.

WOOSH!!!

The page turns.

The story continues.