Posted by: purpleandrew | February 18, 2011

Schroedinger’s Cat and Me

(written in the latter part of 2005)

For the past few months, longer even, but particularly these past few months; my mind has been meandering, slowly, inextricably back to my past.
I have never really left it, or perhaps it has never really left me, the reason; well if I explore it fully I’m thinking that I might realise that I cannot become someone else without fully recognising who I was before. A Rite of Passage before the past is left behind?
All this sounds very mysterious, it’s not at all. When you think about it how many of our thoughts come out in plain obvious thought, without the leap of faith style jumps of logic, you realise there are very few because thoughts are a bit like quantum string theory, there’s no real beginning and no real end.
There are no straight lines and ultimately there are many variations all occupying space at the same time in different aspects, and all this happens in a nanosecond.
Is that the energy that is left when we die? Are these electrical impulses the basis of the soul that goes on? Who knows?
This is just another tangent that, having swung onto can take a while to get ourselves back on track.
And so it begins.

I was born, whether the usual way or the product of someone’s imagination, whichever makes no real difference; it will go the same way. Firstly, there’s baby stage not much going on there really, cause I can’t remember much of that period, except for having inoculations, that must have been quite traumatic as the memory has stayed with me since. I once asked as to what age I was when I was stuck with needles and all they could say was that I was far too young to have remembered that so I must have imagined it. Even if that is true, trust me, it doesn’t make it any less valid.

My next memory really is my sisters wedding – again I’m assured that there is no way I can have such excellent recollections of the day, but I maintain always that I have. There are a few fleeting memories of little blue Ford Anglia’s and my sister sporting a very fetching Astrakhan coat, (which always made me think of a large, soft, shiny tightly permed black poodle; I do remember once musing that perhaps it was a poodle – but was assured it was some kind of exotic sheep kind of woolly thing, whatever it was I was fairly taken with it).

But, I digress, I do that a lot by the way, but bear with me it will make sense in the end, well ish…

Anyway, I was sporting a pair of what I called “Smarty Sandals”, these were of soft red leather and a very pale crepe rubber sole, and when new, they smelled sublime. They were not, however, the sartorial elegance required by my mother and she insisted that I put on my shiny patent shoes that pinched and I could not move in without causing a blister, not to mention that they should never be smudged or scuffed; the merest chance of which brought on a fit of the vapours; which could very well escalate to a good smack round the ear. Not that much of a problem really unless there was a blunt instrument involved; this was often the case and a situation to be avoided at all cost. Unfortunately, I for some reason, inspired this behaviour to reach it’s greatest heights, and Mothers powers of improvisation never failed to impress, oft times quite literally!

So, quantum wise is there a me who was never at a sisters wedding? Was I too young to remember it and what I have in my head is an ability to connect to another space time dimension and integrate it to my memory. Or was I really just precocious enough to remember that day, because that was the day that one of those life changing moments happened? I’ve had quite a few of them over the years.

My wonderful dog has cancer. He is mostly responsible for my continued sanity. He kind of saved my life, actually there is no ‘kind of about it, he did save my life.

 I can’t even come close to saving his. The irony of it is tangible, here I am a veterinary nurse with supposedly unlimited resources at my disposal, and the favours owed to get access to others not so accessible and the people to make it happen. I won’t though. My dog has cancer – or to put it with slightly more validity – cancer has my dog. This is the situation. He has not the ability to cope with the inevitable intrusions to his life and his body and as his owner it is my responsibility to make sure that he has as little stress as possible -stress makes it worse, as with most things.

He will get as much treatment as I can give him that does not upset his fragile temperament. When the time comes I will be the one to do the deed when it becomes necessary, (very occasionally will they just fall asleep and not wake again, but that is extremely rare). Then I will be the one to berate myself for all I did not do and the grieving will begin.
But no, I’m in the position to begin the grieving process now – at this time – here while he lies in the bedroom, on top of the duvet. While I try to work around him and take him to his favourite walks. While I try to come to terms with mortality and all that comes with it. And I have to come to terms with letting him go; to give him the only thing I have left to give that will free him from this disease. For he has completed what the Universe brought him into my life to do, and he deserves my utmost compassion and duty of love. I have to listen to him and know when he tells me it’s time for him to leave, and allow him the dignity and grace that is all he deserves to go from me as peacefully and as painlessly as I can make it for him.

Is there a reality somewhere where cancer doesn’t exist? Where death is not the ultimate experience. I was going to write “human experience” but that is just too arrogant; everything in the universe must experience things perhaps not in the way that we perceive it but effect is caused by experience is it not? Is not that the reason we have a universe at all?

What if all we are really waiting for is all the strings to come together again? Perhaps once a gazillion eons ago there was a great pair of cosmic shears that snipped the universal string into small pieces making them part of a whole but again totally independent and singular. What if they run concurrently and in a cosmically bound tango the music for which a very few can faintly hear in the distance of a dream?

What happens when all the strings come back together? Will all the worlds then be the same because all of the beings therein will have experienced the full gamut of life. They will all have been all colours, will all have been rich or poor, good or evil? Will all have been everything they need to be, to be whole.
Is that the reason for different dimensions and the reality that lies within them? Was that what Nostradamus meant when he said the world would end?
Is that the meaning of life? Or is it just something that keeps our brains ticking over trying to make sense of it all? It’s all in the box. Erwin Schroedinger’s box; and like Erwin’s box, life is never certain until we unpack it. Only when we recognise what is in front of us and give it a name does it become true. So, until the box is opened there are so many different connotations of what is going on inside the box.

It was actually a highly distasteful experiment as they tend to be. I will not repeat it here but it is mentioned in ‘The Universe Next Door’ by Marcus Chown and I believe in Brysons’ ‘History of Everything’, and the basics are that anything is possible until proven otherwise by direct experience. An experience that we as humans have deemed true by mutual consent.
So, we really do make our Universe on a second by second basis, but, we limit what it will be – by mutual consent.
I revoke my consent. I want my Universe to be better. I want global warming to cool off, I want proper seasons where they have always been. I want to keep my beautiful dog who has the soul of an angel. I want that we discover how to keep our cells from betraying us – or is it we who betray our cells.
I want us to learn from our mistakes and refrain from making them again and again, for that is a sign of madness is it not?

I believe that if I connect with my Universe at a cellular level, (see works of Deepak Chopra) and begin to make the changes from there that that is how the expansion takes place and it grows and fills all of the void and then moves onto the other realities. As above so below, as within so without…
And of everything in between, we have an effect on everything and everyone we come into contact with and that means we are responsible for how that turns out.
The mind effects the body, external events make internal repercussions. What kind of impression do you want to make in anothers future as well as your own?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

Hand me a Mirror!

If this is vanity publishing ... hand me a mirror!

Sally Ember, Ed.D.

Author, blogger, nonprofit leader, educator, Buddhist meditator, feminist

Services to Literature

Literary Perspective, Advice and Support from Alexa Radcliffe-Hart

wrapped up in books

reading, writing, librarying

Zen Scribbles

Sometimes a pain, sometimes a klutz, sometimes even a Grammar Nazi, but always a writer, always a reader, always a self-proclaimed chocoholic.

One Writer and his Blog

A Blog is a writers best friend

So Many Books

the agony and ecstasy of a reading life

Book of words

Books, reviews and all things worth reading

Marsh Sport Blog

"Without self-discipline, success is impossible, period"- Lou Holtz c1937

bottledworder

easy reading is damn hard writing

write meg!

Another take on writing, reading, loving -- and eating

101 Books

Reading my way through Time Magazine's 100 Greatest Novels since 1923 (plus Ulysses)

bookpeopleblog.wordpress.com/

Howdy! We're the largest independent bookstore in Texas. This is our blog.

blindoggbooks

Author Tim Baker shares his thoughts, hopes and dreams. (mostly his thoughts)

The Writer's Bag of Tricks

Susan Brooks, Editor in Chief at www.literarywanderlust.com

The Digital Consonance

Writing and Digital Art for the Creative and Curious

A Writer's Life

I'm Rebecca Mahoney, a freelance journalist, fiction writer & manuscript editor who likes to chat about books & writing, share editing tips, and muse about the freelance life. Visit my full website at rebeccamahoney.com.

Writing and Works

Poetry & Prose by Carol J Forrester

%d bloggers like this: