We are time travelers. From the moment of birth until our last breath, we stride the continuum and are inevitably consumed by it. Strangely, the only time we notice is when we are yearning for the past or fretting for the future. Or, very occasionally, when we actively extend a moment.
Of course, time is an entirely human construct; this is why such as “extending moments” is even possible. The extension (as with all other experience of time) is entirely internal, perception and perspective driven.
Paradoxical, isn’t it?
If time only exists in the mind, how do we travel it at all?
What about seasons and all the changes we see around us in the world?
What if all the “reality” we think we experience and know is just our mind’s best attempt at making cohesive sense of input?
What is there is no “knowing”, only “believing”?
I think, therefore I am? Or I think, therefore I am… I think?
More and more, I believe that we, quite literally, create our reality. I think as well that certain elements of that creative process are either physiological mandates (the outcomes of which manifest the illusion of “shared reality” and “objectivity”) or some manner of ultimately shared consciousness.
You read that correctly; I believe there is no “we”.
Just as I believe there is no “time”.
But what a fanciful, whimsical, astonishing, and often sad set of illusions and delusions, eh?
I encountered a very interesting little short the other day that got me on this series of thoughts. It is based upon a tale by Andrew Weir called “The Egg”. Here is the YouTube short… I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.