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The Universe is The Greatest Story Ever Told

puzzle_cook

Years ago when I was studying science, involved in research and planning a life within its sacred realm, I was instructed, like all researchers of the time that the validity of scientific results were judged on statistical significance and repeatability, meaning did it attain the statistical range already delegated as acceptable, and could another scientist repeat your precise method and get your results.

Those were the rules human beings agreed to because they didn’t know that they inhabited a universe, which at its very foundations was in a state of continuous flux, flow and change. They didn’t know the atom they believed in, on which they’d based their scientific notions, wasn’t the neat orderly arrangement of “balls in orbits.” They didn’t know that while they sat in their labs, those sneaky electrons morphed from wave to particle and back with no seeming reason or rhyme. And more astounding yet, they most certainly didn’t know an electron’s activity was apparently under the influence of those watching and maybe everyone else as well.

They didn’t realize that the way they saw the world was as a result of learning, not discovery.They weren’t discovering the world; they were discovering the manner in which they had been taught to perceive it. It was a way of seeing they’d been conditioned to. In a sense, they had already been given the idea of our universe from birth onward,  and science was merely the act of creating agreement between what is actually there and how we are all taught to interpret the information our senses bring to us.

We describe the world using our preconceived notions of it and then create the laws that supposedly govern it, using this partisan view. Sort of sounds like a dog chasing its tail, doesn’t it? What most of us don’t realize is that the universe is a story, a description resulting from our words manipulated within a syntax into which we were indoctrinated almost from birth; a work of exceedingly well-written fiction which became the greatest story ever told, one we all know, love, and retell each generation. And yet, poet, Mary Oliver, with all her intuitive insight suggests in her poem, “What is This?” a very quantum-like thought:

…and how could anyone believe

that anything in this world

is only what it appears to be—

that anything is ever final—

that anything, in spite of its absence,

ever dies

a perfect death?

Most every experience we have in the world has resulted not from the world itself, but from the stories we tell ourselves about it, with meanings we make up that feel so real because they fit so perfectly. What we’re overlooking is that this puzzle is our own creation along with the pieces that go into it, and yet we feel surprised and enthralled as we put it together.

Do these fanciful ideas matter to you or me, those who live simple lives, raising families, earning incomes, fretting, toiling, laughing and weeping? I would say yes, for buried in our way of seeing the world is the reason why nothing really changes, why we can’t create peace in the world, why we have so much disease, why we can’t love the way we imagine we could, why we’re always so afraid. I prefer to explore aspects of human nature, but from an unconditioned perspective. It will allow me to see the world as I’ve not yet seen it.

51AK1lIO--L._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-64,22_AA300_SH20_OU01_Author Christina Carson is author of Dying to Know. Please click the book cover to read more about the novel on Amazon.

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