Focusing on Context

 by  Shaun A. Lawton (writing for The Oscillating Oculus in his own words) 

   Originally written in 2021, this reflection on context seems newly relevant in light of recent debates in quantum physics over whether reality can be meaningfully described apart from the conditions under which it is observed.  In a sense, it extends the idea from Many Worlds or One Cauldron: reality isn’t just "out there"—it emerges through our participation, shaped by the specific conditions that make both observation and life possible.

    If the future represents death (and there's no doubt that it does) then a re-examination of the present becomes necessary for us to gain a better understanding of the actual context of our position among the stars.  

   Now that we've outlined time as having necessarily produced a myriad pockets of equilibrium by virtue of the revolutionary actions of solar systems either functioning independently or in tandem (depending on whether or not they belong to a larger cluster of stars), we've identified the galactic region in which we dwell as being located within a barycentric zone where time achieves an equipoised stability or composure that effectively produces the era in which we are sustainably permitted to live out our lifespans. 

   It's this epoch of counterpoised stabilization generated by the massive gravitational flux from either our own individual Sun or quite possibly including the cluster of related stars which should be seen as being tantamount to a sort of pool or reservoir, if you will, which is to say, a temporal body or zone of the spacetime continuum in which we are nestled. An area of sufficient harmony to have produced the serenity of life as we know it.  

   As a collective species, and despite all of our significant advancements in science and technology, I am left with the distinct impression that we are still psychologically trapped within the limited subjective scope of our view into having mistakenly projected our inherent (and indigenous) sense of three dimensions onto the canvas of what we consider to be "outer space." I suspect this may be the point at which we lose focus of our actual condition in the Milky Way galaxy. (It can be duly noted that we've even gone so far as to implement the word "space" as the primary noun we've modified with the word "outer".)  

   If we are to facilitate our progress moving forward in terms of continuing to discover the true context of our existence here on this planet on a scientific basis, it will become necessary for this newfound insight into the actual nature of our condition to become more commonly understood.  The reason for this is because the very point of our divergence from what's actually happening begins with our false presumption that the whole of space follows the same guiding proportions and measurement as does the vacuole of our atmosphere on Earth provide.  

   These are entirely distinct phenomena from each other while remaining parts and parcel of the whole. This pocket of air we breathe on Earth generated from our planet's spin and rotation about our central star resulting from the complex interaction of the fungal and vegetable kingdoms with elements such as light and water producing photosynthesis and generating life as we know it all happens within the more or less sealed or semi-impermeable bubble shielded from radiation by the interactive magnetic fields from both our Sun and home planet.   

   A better comprehension of these life-sustaining dynamics would perforce allow us as a species to discard whole reams of spurious thought which have been leading us on toward impossible pipe dreams and excess wastes of time, energy and money chasing our dreams in the wrong direction.  For example, we don't waste our precious reserves of time and energy trying to "seek alien life" or "expand space exploration" through the portals of hot springs, do we?  Perhaps we should...

   ...But of course not, because not only is the very notion absurd, but that's because we have an inherent understanding about hot springs and their limited function for us. We may immerse our bodies into them to relax in the heat and enjoy the benefits of soaking in their minerals, and that's about the extent of it.  I've come to the inevitable deduction that similarly, the deep fields--or ocean, if you will--of time represented by the vast distances between stars remains more along the lines of something we can certainly on occasion "go for a brief dip into the surface of" (as has been proven repeatedly by our stalwart astronauts) but by all means may end up quite likely being the case that going too much further (for example heading into interstellar space as the Voyager crafts have been remotely sent into) may remain the very antithesis of what we should aspire to do. (Speculations such as these serve as bookmarks. We should really remain open to changing our minds.)  

   I am not saying that this is certain. If anything, the expanse delineated by that zone in our region of space defined by our "temporal barycenter" has its own limits which may serve as the boundaries which we would no sooner think of crossing than we would (for example) surgically implant a foot on the side of our head. What would be the point of that? Certainly there's a possibility that our entire solar system should be open to our expansion:  just think of all the dwarf planets orbiting the gas giants, including Ceres which NASA recently discovered has more water on it than all of Earth's oceans combined.  We just need to keep the underlying context of our exploratory missions tempered with a foundation of solid reasoning, if you ask me.  

   In my opinion, we really need to get a better mental grip and gain a renewed objectivity by focusing our perspective on the context of our position in the galaxy before we waste too much more money, time and energy pursuing endeavors that may end up fruitless but for a shot at profiteering. It's a matter of getting our priorities in the right order. Why should we focus an extraordinary and unprecedented amount of money, time and energy trying to terraform Mars to make it hospitable for human habitation when that same money, time and energy could be shifted toward cleaning up and making our own planet once again hospitable to continue sustaining us with a renewable biodiversity? 

   But then again, we can't really advance that far as a species without trial and error. There's absolutely something to admire in our audacious exploits to the Moon and Mars, make no mistake about it. After all, they say you can't cook an omelet without cracking a few eggs. I really do believe nothing's impossible. Mainly because the prefix "im-" may be interpreted as meaning "before," which reveals a significant understanding of the word as simply indicating something that is "not yet possible." Perhaps our excursions into the surrounding neighborhood of our solar system will only serve to strengthen the conviction of the boundless nature of our own worldly parameters right here on this mysterious living organism we call home. 

   If our imaginations may conjure such apparent miracles as the dawn of aviation and space flight to the Moon and make them tangible realities, then let this serve as a reminder that it can work both ways, which is to say that we may also conceive of the true significance and context of such mysteries as the cosmos yet holds in store for us, so that we may be more optimally prepared to both confront what's necessary and to avoid what isn't expedient at too much cost. It's time to hedge our bets and gain new focus and objectivity. What are we here for in the first place if not to make things better for all mankind, instead of worse? 

   

    

   

Many Worlds or One Cauldron: Singularity in Fluctuation

 by roving reporter Shaun Lawton  (written without AI)

"I believe that if the development of physics has taught us anything, 

it is that we must learn to think more subtly."   Neils Bohr  to Werner Heisenberg

 After reading the article by Amanda Gefter called  Reality Exists Without Observers? Boooo! that just appeared in issue 65  of Nautilus, and considering the quote at the end of it, from Bohr to Heisenberg, I thought, if I were to think more subtly about how to describe our observer-with-universe dynamic, I came up with the following description today: 

A singularity in fluctuation   

   like an infinite cauldron 

   It's the best I could do, given the circumstances. Allow me to venture an explanation.  The dilemma has been only exacerbated by our ordinary insistence to separate the observer from that which we observe, so it follows we should perhaps try to avoid that.  What I got out of Amanda Gefter's article, is that contemporary physics has split into two interpretive camps. The Many Worlds view preserves objectivity by multiplication, proposing that every possible outcome occurs in a branching universe where nothing ever truly collapses. The Copenhagen interpretation, following Bohr, preserves coherence by limitation, refusing to describe reality apart from the conditions under which it is observed. 

   What follows here is my attempt to think more subtly still, while taking a lead from Bohr.  I consider that reality remains something which somewhat branches out, yet does not collapse, and instead continuously engages us to participate—and not a collection of finished worlds, but an ongoing process in which distinction and observation arise and evolve together over time. In what follows, interconnection is not meant as metaphor, nor separation as illusion, but rather as functional aspects of reality—useful for navigation and survival. This distinction is not intended as an ontological denial of reality, but as a reminder that separation describes how we operate within the world, not how the world is ultimately composed.

   Let's try an experiment that allows ourselves, with our brain's countless neurons and synaptic pathways, sending and receiving electrical and chemical impulses, in this mysterious and constant state of tracking our environment, to help us navigate through our complex continuum. Whether we are in the simple state of relaxing in a chair and reading a magazine, or at the steering wheel of an automobile going seventy miles an hour following the flow of traffic, driving home after work during rush hour, use that imagination we're allegedly in possession of (or potentially in a position which allows us to be possessed by it) and do our best to conceive of this notion. Consider the blood coursing through our veins as being part of us, just like we think how our limbs and fingers and bones are components which assemble into our unique individuality.  Note how it follows that the electrical impulses flowing along our central nervous system and brain's intricate networks of axons pass along signals to stimulate the muscles of our arms and legs and feet and hands.  See how this electrical flow remains analogous to the blood coursing through our veins and arteries. We understand there exists positive and negative ions down into the molecular and submolecular structure of our bodies, just as they do deep within the clothes we wear, and the cars we drive; not to mention the streets themselves, and trees as well as the ground of being here on this planet. We can easily surmise how this electrical current remains enmeshed throughout the entire tapestry of our world, extending from our bodies and beyond; indeed going further to connect as far as our Sun and its entire planetary system.  For all we know, this electromagnetic webbing extends through all the gravitational wells threading through every star in our galaxy; connecting somehow farther than our current understanding, until it threads through all galaxies in a cosmic tapestry bound together by black holes, quasars and quantum forces which exist on a macrocosmic level our scientists have been marveling over and studying ever since the day we and all our ancestors were born.  

   It's not difficult to imagine; or to make it even more clear, we're not imagining it at all, but rather picturing the actuality of the total interconnection of our universe, which we like to think of as reality itself.  Even while we can also imagine things that aren't real, like bat-winged unicorns with serpentine eyes and the chromatic scales of a dragon, let's not forget we've already invented a word for this, which is the word fantasy.  Meanwhile, the reality of our existence remains obviously wholly interconnected together to the point we've dubbed another word for it; singularity.  And even though many words can have multiple meanings, there are some whose meaning mostly has a singular definition, and this word, despite having a potential host of different applications to which it may be used, nevertheless also remains with its one initial meaning that could be ascribed to everything, in singular fashion, after itself.  It's just that we're typically not occupied with this sort of conscious endeavor of thinking of everything, because we necessarily are focused on those aspects which we rely upon to navigate our way around a table, or getting into bed each night, so we may lay ourselves down to sleep and enter that mysterious state of rest that can bring dreams to mind. 

   We've become so accustomed to thinking of ourselves as separate from the rest of creation, that we don't usually give the matter much thought.  If we did, we might start to come around to concluding that thinking such things may be more accurately described as an aberration, becoming more synonymous with the idea of fantasy, and we couldn't have that, because after all, we're hard wired to believe in reality, aren't we?  Here's where the words we've become accustomed to start to shimmer and waver and become pliable, softening before our minds as if they were silly putty, only to be shaped into things temporarily, to lull us into a sense of false security, leading us toward the idea that this line of thinking simply will not do.  Not when we have to rise up in the morning, dress ourselves once again, to put our shoes on, and tie our laces, and prepare breakfast and eat so we can have the energy to head out the door and get to work on time, or whatever it is we have on our daily agendas.  

   It's almost as if this condition we've come to think of as being hardwired remains some sort of default, automatic setting like a passenger jet having an autopilot.  Yet if we stop for a moment and set aside whatever automated daily ritual we may be in the midst of, and think for a minute about how we are actually not just interconnected with the universe but integral aspects of it, sort of like the aforementioned scales on a reptile, well it can become disconcerting, to say the least.  It's somewhat analogous to the curious phenomenon of how we rarely stop to think about the way we're constantly breathing.  Yet consider this.  In meditation, we are reminded of this connection to the universe, when we become consciously aware that we are in fact breathing, and then join in with creation by taking in deep breaths and slowly exhaling them, just a few in a row may be all we need to gauge that constant and rhythmic interconnection we have with nature, which after all remains all about us, in the form of the land and blue sky and the moon and everything that appears to lie beyond.  

    This exercise becomes one of the few times where we abandon fantasy altogether to become enraptured by the revelation that we may not be a part of everything so much as an inherent aspect of the entirety of creation itself. When we're welcomed into this reality, we liberate ourselves from being caught up in the trap of having falsely assumed we were separate from everything. Whether this may reveal we've been periodically lulled into thinking we're parts of a fantasy manifested in the ever so gradually fluctuating cauldron of eternity, I cannot say with any convincing degree of certainty, but I may offer a not uncommon insight that seems to feel right, when I think it aloud in my mind:  The universe feels like it remains alive. 

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Focusing on Context

by Shaun Lawton on

The Oscillating Oculus