Novels by William G. Tedford

 

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15-Death is Not an Option

With our understanding of quantum superposition, most quantum theorists accept the implication of infinite parallel space-time realities, what is known as the Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum mechanics, the idea that, from our point of view in time and space, reality splits off at every quantum instant into space-time structures of infinite variation.

Imagine a scenario in which lightning strikes a tree. Both the lightning and the tree are infinitesimal space-time manifestations of the infinite superpositioned realm to which they belong. Elsewhere along the continuity of their existence, the event varies across the board, in every possible fashion. The lightning struck a safe distance away. The tree grew in a spot a safe distance from where the lightning struck at that particular instant. Ad infinitum.

Remember that Platonia, the realm of the superpositioned, exists in a continuum, just as space-time, entangled worlds are 'digital' in nature, or quantized, broken into pieces at the Planck level where these constituents of space-time reality 'resonate' and join forces with one another. In space-time, trees hit by lightning live or die in absolute terms. In the broader multiverse, the tree is being born as often as it dies. Within that continuum, were we able to view its spectrum, the trees and the storm would shift and morph and eventually become unrecognizable as we ventured away from that initial event.

What then happens if we place a woman walking a child beneath our tree the moment lightning strikes? The woman and child exist in the same manner as the tree and the lightning. Consciousness only 'sees' space-time structure, so we can extrapolate multitudinous versions of the woman and child experiencing every variation their tree and lightning has to offer.

The question that first enters our mind is the nature of the individuality of the woman and child. Is consciousness contained like a seed in a pod within the brains of each of these discrete space-time individuals, or does quantum interference join the many conscious experiences of the woman and child into multidimensional entities?

The thing called 'quantum immortality' is the single most stunning implication of quantum theory. If the woman and child are killed in our reality, many claim that the woman and child who were not killed in a nearby parallel reality were not the same two individuals.

However, the observation that we experience change within acausal quantum interactions lends credence to the idea that consciousness transcends quantum events as space-time events to the degree that we experience what we define as 'time'. If consciousness could not span otherwise acausal quantum interactions, we would have no awareness of change. There would be no time. We would not exist.

If time is born of consciousness embracing multiple quantum events, only a select few would contribute to, or associate with, the world we experience. The key to creating worlds is to focus on what fits and ignore the rest. Veritable infinity is ignored. Our current human experience is highly improbable. Most possible changes in the immanent Now would herald the instantaneous termination of our current history.

From the standpoint of an observer, mistakes in conscious choices may terminate a space-time history now and then, but the observer itself is not space-time in nature, and it does not lose its history at the time of a 'fatal' event. History is an acausal structure, part and parcel of the observer. Only from perspective of another observer is biological death seen.

Worlds disentangle, but lives that incorporate space and time as means of processing information do not end. There are always viable possibilities for the continuation and growth of any personal history. We branch into veins of such possibility on a continual basis. We die from the standpoint of others as well, but since when are any of us capable of directly experiencing 'death'? It is likely, however, that we have distant connections with those who do experience entangled worlds of which we have never been, are not, and will never be, a part. Like the wave function of an electron, we each occupy all of Platonia, and we each have our infinitesimal focus assimilating experience, what we think to be our 'past', our personal history.   

If the woman and the child are struck by lightning, their corpses would remain from the perspective of a conscious observer in that space-time event. From other perspectives, including their own, they survive. Anecdotal reports of near death experiences hint at a disjointed experience at the instant of greatest danger, a break in the smooth continuity of our lives. These are generally attributed to shock, although some occur in relative tranquility. A woman drifts to sleep at night while driving a dark highway. She awakens an instant before slamming into a concrete bridge abutment. In the next instant, she is driving further down the highway with no conscious awareness of how such a transition could be possible. Likewise, survivors guilt may be more than just feeling unworthy of surviving an accident that claimed other lives. In many cases, it feels more like an queasy awareness that death did take place and that one's survival was somehow 'unearned'.

Language gets in our way in these descriptions of a multidimensional life limited to space-time experience. We are forced to use words that contradict one another if not redefined by new understandings. Still, the only alternative to our argument is the common-sense notion that space-time rules with an iron fist and consciousness can somehow move calcium ions, thereby directing the functioning of the human brain and body.

Our conscious histories are a walk in time and space, but they do not exist as such at their source. Every acausal Planck instant is discrete primal entity unto itself as well as a crossroad intersection joining infinite numbers of possible space-time worlds of experience. Our personal histories are embedded in the histories of infinite others, and it is not ultimately possible to draw a line around individuals as a boundary aside from our immaterial conscious histories that no one else can ever share. Nobody occupies our point of view. Lives may run parallel with one another, but as soon as we part company with that other, their memories of our association may differ in odd ways in future encounters, not because our memories are necessarily defective, although they can be notoriously inaccurate, but because we are not 'exactly' the same people who met that first time around.

The immanent Now is the overall perspective of Platonia itself, a spacial and temporal singularity. It is said that the physical universe was born of a quantum singularity, but at what point did it ever cease to become a singularity? We see expansion and time and space and matter and energy at work within the context of the universe, knowing we can never stand outside for an objective view. We speak of energy interactions in the physical universe, but conscious interactions 'consume' no resources. Only within the conscious sensorium do we live in that model of 'physical' reality that humanity insists reflects the 'real' world.

Any appearance that reality takes speaks of attributes of consciousness, and we know nothing of consciousness beyond personal experience. We have no way of knowing, for example, how many qualia others may experience, whether 'red' to us is the same 'red' others experience. Those born deaf or color blind are oblivious to qualia we experience, but birds have more of different kinds of rods and cones in their retina than ourselves, hinting that they may experience qualia of colors of which we are completely oblivious.

Should we ever become absolute masters of 'physical' reality, our ultimate quest in exploring the universe may not be a quest for alien worlds, but a search for, and an effort to entangle with, conscious realities that differ from our own. Imagine a future technology that would allow us to experience other conscious perspectives from their point of view. What would it be like to share a night with a timber wolf, or a blue whale, or perhaps a highly intelligent being afloat in the high atmosphere of a gas giant like Jupiter?

Now we can see the fate of the woman and the child walking beneath the lightning-struck tree with more clarity. As they transverse quantum realities, they move from one possible world to another each Planck instant to give rise to the illusion of their passage in time and space. They are entangled with one another, sharing the same world of their sensorium. From our perspective, they can be struck by lightning and killed, because they are part of our space-time sensorium in that regard. From their own perspective, they can be separated by the death of the other, but they can never as individuals  'step into a world' in which they do not exist. No such possibility exists. The worlds available for their next 'step' are infinite in number, a continuum, like walking through the colors of a rainbow.

We speak continuously of perspective, but consciousness in itself is the perspective, and it has its horizons based upon its limited ability to process information. Those horizons are in motion, approaching inexorably, revealing behind them even more distant horizons, but they are not barriers to experience. We may have wasted our lives taking for granted that nothing exists beyond the nearest horizon to our lives. Had we known, and we had the capacity to know, we could have invested those wasted years into the creation of even more marvelous vistas awaiting our arrival to the far side of what we thought would be oblivion.  

Consciousness is a focus. Focus is like wearing blinders. Blinders are useful in facilitating focus. Neither focus nor the blinders it imposes upon us, or we impose upon ourselves, determines where our selves begin or end. Driving down a space-time highway, we don't fear we will cease to exist around a bend we cannot see, because we know by experience that roads do not end that abruptly and without warning. Likewise, consciousness does not cease where our lives end because we see that the world of our experience is in essence a projection of consciousness. Like a headlight of a car that cannot pierce the darkness, we have learned not to fear the darkness. 

Death is a third-person phenomena. It is the parting of ways between space-time worlds, histories, that were 'entangled', but now break and go their own way. From the point of view of a witness, our bodies cease to function when we die. They are icons belonging to the witness that no longer serve as a bridge between the world we previously shared. When our entanglement with our bodies end from the point of view of others, they cease to function as an interface between us.

From our own point of few, when we die, our space-time bodies persist as part of our 'environmental' history, the quantum accumulation of all we are. If our bodies harbor lethal disease, defect, or injury, these cannot survive once they reach the point of 'one-plus-one-equals-three', but only the impossible 'errors' of our lives drop away. The overall timeless system of reality is always coherent and never affected. At death, therefore, we do not leave one world and enter another. Our world adjusts to the necessary changes. We adjust without awareness of the process, because memory of errors end with the errors themselves, and our lives continue. Entanglements change, and if we say that these are 'new' worlds, remember that every moment of our lives is a 'new' moment, literally a 'new' universe. Nobody ever experiences the same configuration twice. 

Why do bodies die to begin with, aside from murder or accident?

Our biology is a blind evolutionary process and is not an error-free process. The next 'moment' contains infinite possibility. Probability limits our range of exploration, but errors that will culminate in failure accumulate as we age. This is not a 'bad' thing because our biology is also 'programmed' to die. Biological death is also a reproductive advantage for the species.

We tend to become set in our ways as we age. If the environment changes, we cannot easily change with it. Change, however, is provided at random by genetic variety in the young, some of which are more suitable to a changing environment in which they are born. These fittest survive and pass along their useful mutations. The aging miss countless opportunities for useful experience as they become less effective thinkers and doers. The young do not miss those opportunities so easily. They flourish as we once flourished, but we all replicate, age, and die in terms of our biology. In terms of time, the cycle of life has survived frozen Earths and superheated Earths, verdant Earths and desert Earths.

Errors are a byproduct to the process of evolution, but remember that our worlds process information quantum mechanically, and to say that random mutation could not possibly result in life as we know it over the lifespan of the known universe means nothing to Platonia. Errors in our biology and even our mind accumulate until they break the entanglement with our world, but in that very instant, the errors cancel, leaving behind a new, error-free world, although this 'new' world may also contain the seeds of its own destruction. We 'see' the same process at work in our mathematics, although we are blind to its tedious aspect of 'error correction'. Fifty plus fifty equals one hundred, but what happened to fifty plus fifty equals one hundred and one and every other potential wrong answer inherent in the simple calculation? We cannot count the potential errors give eternity to do so. This is how our coherent reality is constructed from the superpositioned background of Platonic's infinity and eternity we confusingly believe lurks within a quantum singularity of no space and no time. We are blind to the true process at work, but it 'feels' to us like time and space. Time and space are inherent in our mysterious, inexplicable conscious experience. We can forever discuss and 'process' the content of our experience, but never its source.

When we die, we find ourselves in the same world as before, from our point of view, or as close to it as probability allows. It is essentially the same world as before, simply free of the fatal errors that brought it to us.

Given that we do not bring with us memory of the self-destruction we wrought, we seem to start afresh, but each self-destructive process will endlessly repeat itself until we consciously recognize what is happening and resolve it. Those past mistakes are part of our 'past', buried in what we consider to be our interactive sensorium, our 'objective physical reality'. If, thirty million years ago, we were a creature who zigged instead of zagged and died, the fossil record of its death lies beneath our feet. This is not however, a truly 'physical' record. We still carry the conscious experience deep within us. We are not today totally oblivious to the errors we made as far more primitive beings. That experience contributed to our current status as human. Our experience as human will, in turn, contribute to whatever manner of being we will have become, in terms of time and space, one million years from now.

The world in which we find ourselves at death is no further away than necessity dictates. In the case of 'premature' death, as with an accident, our 'afterlife' will be identical to the one left behind aside from the accident. In the world of the accident, a funeral takes place. In the world in which we continue, the accident never happened. Still, if we decide to get up late one morning, we may no longer share worlds with family and friends who chose circumstances that would have clashed with our decision. Our every quantum moment is shared by multidimensional aspects of family, friends, and associates who unknowingly accommodate our decisions. Our space-time experience is that fluid in a multidimensional reality.

Minds as well as space-time events are entangled. Because mind is the source of space and time, making this statement is the same as saying that reality is a conscious field of experience generated from infinite conscious, interactive perspectives. At some level, the partings of worlds, when they happen, are mutually agreed upon events 'behind the scenes', although perhaps not events we necessarily want to happen. If we deem such events as unavoidable, we accept them. Otherwise, we alter the interface to which we belong. We shift to a interface in which participants reject that group event, and life goes on as usual.

We are largely oblivious to the errors we make, but sudden conscious insight does occurs on a daily basis, and many of our potentially fatal errors are corrected on-the-fly. We learn as we grow and we become more efficacious human beings. Many errors we once considered impossible to address because of our erroneous assumptions of the nature of life and death, as with the nature of disease, we can now address and resolve with ease. We still have other, far greater arenas of misunderstandings to address as time passes in our experience.

Again, in a manner of speaking, when we see others die, that choice is ours. From their point of view, perhaps their deaths never happen. If they do happen, they are not aware of the experience. We acquiesce to many such deaths because our lives and our common worlds are a cooperative affair, but we and friends, family and associates are not necessarily moving in the same direction, certainly not in the long run. We are those proverbial ships passing in the night. We can move apart in terms of time and space and lose track of one another, but if we 'move apart' within view of one another, broken worlds necessitates a death. However, we may not always be aware of the circumstances of a fatality on a fully conscious level. We may have connections with people we have never 'physically' met. Dramas may be taking place beneath the conscious sphere of daily life we are insufficiently sensitive to recognize. There is more to our lives than we currently recognize which is why so much of the world seems to be 'other', without visible ties to us.

We are oblivious to the choices others make when they choose to experience circumstances that exclude us from their world. Vital factors are at world. We don't see everything from our highly focused perspective. They are likewise oblivious when we choose to experience circumstances that exclude them from our world. If we die from their point of view, our corpses are theirs to bury, but we continue life elsewhere not missing a beat. We may be aware of injury or ill health, but never of death itself. Conversely, the deaths of others become corpses that are part of our space-time sensory environment and they continue their lives without missing a beat 'elsewhere', in worlds, or at least in histories, we do not experience.

Our larger selves manifest multiple histories. We can greet loved ones in one world who we buried yesterday in another. Our respective personal 'histories' would not contain the experience of the other. Our linear space-time history will be forever just that, a trail of time and space within a superpositioned reality we cannot see with our space-time eyes, but it's nice to know that there are worlds in which we flourish when we are dying and despondent. As environmentalists, it's nice to know there are infinite pristine Earths unmarred by the human species. It may be a bit difficult to fully accept that any coherent reality we can imagine runs unseen right alongside of us, but such is the nature of reality as we currently understand it. The size of the reality we each recognize as valid will grow in depth and complexity as time passes, but it will never regress to the mistakenly comforting myth of simpler times and places.

Death is the product of error, much of it beyond our current control, but when it happens, we fall back upon proven realities from which we launch ourselves into new potential to explore and manifest. Errors are the necessary consequence of blind explorations into new realms of experience to be mastered. They are resources and not failings. We fall back time and time again from worlds new to us, in terms of time, until we gain footholds of understanding in those new realities. When we have mastered those, we move into other realms to be experienced and mastered.

Another analogy of the life-death process would be that of the amoeba extending feelers into its environment, encountering constant dead-ends, but flowing bodily into areas of nourishment and optimal environmental conditions when it encounters such. Like the amoeba, we cannot see into the true unknown, because it is infinite in scope. A part of us has to reach out blindly and explore to find fresh avenues of experience that resonate with our values. Life is the culmination of constructive rather than destructive choices.

Biologically, amoeba replicate by cellular division. Ultimately, so do human beings, which is common knowledge biological, but the details are different and far more significant when 'objective physical reality' is redefined as the human sensorium in our entangled conscious realities. How then do we replicate? How do we follow two choices at once and then proceed to experience each from a point of view that will never again encounter the other?

Entanglement is a relative affair in our lives, not an all or nothing process. We are far closer to some places, people and things than we are with others. The most intense entanglement in human conscious experience takes place within sexual intercourse and conception. Three rather than two parties are involved. Two generate a new biological interface with their shared world. The consciousness that emerges from that union will be new to their world, but not new to conscious experience per se, and not at all new to the the world in which it finds itself. New lives enter any given world as immortals. We all occupied our immanent Now. We have always done so. It is acausal. It had no beginning and has no end, even as we define it in terms of time and space. Change occurs in every immanent Now, including those of birth and death. Life feeds upon itself, but far more is involved than predators and prey. Predators and prey cycle, but they are aspects of one another. We live, die, feed, are fed upon, are born and give birth, all to mutual advantage. Our unique perspectives may be in conflict at any give 'time', but ultimately those perspectives expand outward and are destined to meet at 'omega', the place where perspectives are born as 'alpha'.

Such ideas may seem undisciplined, junk science, desperately and despairingly New Age, but they fit quantum theory far too well to be discounted. From what we can currently see of the implications of quantum theory, we can say with some confidence that no rabbit is ever caught by the pursuing predator, and no pursuing predator ever dies of hunger for lack of a rabbit, not from those individual respective conscious points of view.

The one choice we may not have is the choice of whether we wish to participate in this eternal evolutionary drama of which we are part. We can be oblivious to it, if our reality is exclusively sensory. Even when we suspect the existence of a larger reality and react fearfully, we can hide from horizons and boundaries beyond which we have no desire to explore. Death itself, in any case, is never an option.

Choices are unseen doorways we enter. Those doorways close as we step through our chosen selection, locking within our very souls the consequence of our behavior, moving us deeper into worlds of light, or of darkness. We'd do better to be aware of the overall dynamics of choices rather than live by the short-term pleasure/pain principle. Animals are mindlessly herded by pleasure and pain, but those instincts have limitations.

What is there to fear? Walking through fire hurts, but like a mathematical equation resolved in a quantum computer, all factors that fail to promote solutions cancel themselves in the world we experience. It's probably safe to say that all human worlds are inherently unsustainable, places ultimately of fire, but solutions survive and accumulate, inexorably becoming a part of our very being and giving birth to worlds that are increasingly viable. This anti-entropy is a central hallmark of life.

There is no ‘good’ except for growth. There is no 'evil' except as fodder for growth. There are solutions, and there are mistakes, but we make mistakes out of ignorance and thereby render ignorance our most valuable resource, not a thing to be denigrated after all.

We grow and we learn by the errors of our lives. In Platonia, regardless of how dark the worlds we encounter along the way, there is no alternative.

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Copyright © 2007 by William G. Tedford - All rights reserved