The famous quote that we cannot step in the same river twice, begins to appear as respectable science as we enter the quantum scientific paradigm.
Within the set of theories, those I work from in these books, the quantum universe is distinctly different from the Newtonian — or classical — theory of physics.
Although classical physics still has its place, especially locally, in our frame of reference, for this volume is quantum theory as described below.
An emergent universe, with us as emergent beings, with the universe, and everything in it, emerging constantly into a different state.
Quite literally meaning we cannot ever step into the same river twice, as both the river and we, are perpetually changing.
Within this framework, we see living beings as “standing waves”, morphing into being for a period of time — in many ways a part of the fluid, ever changing universe itself.
Thus, basing a theory on some concept that we may stand back as disinterested observer to accurately measure the universe we are part of is wishful thinking at best.
From this perspective we must create science from the standpoint of a participant, including ourselves in the whole picture.
Taking this point of view changes just about everything into a moveable feast of human experience which cannot be nailed down into some frozen stationary frame.
This leaves us with a tripartite view of the cosmos, with perception being one, with the observer experiencing perception the second, and the cosmos a third — all existing as three interrelated components.
Inside this theoretical framework there is nothing to abstract from the whole.
Nothing can come from nothing.
Former classical abstractions must be set back into a moving picture, with each moment literally changing what could be defined previously.
What were formerly defined as particles must be reframed as energy levels, as disturbances in the flow of the space time matrix.
In earlier works I have gone into detail defining how this universal slip stream seems to operate.1
Many theorists have offered a way to keep the picture still, but these never quite work out.
A common one is to describe matter as frozen light, which utterly misses the understanding architecture of light itself and the matter it helps form.
Today we are inheritors of some beautiful science.
Science which indicates that the universal slipstream substrate is composed, at least partially, of electromagnetism, resonance and light, which combine to form matter.2
As a science writer my task is to put the moving pieces together to offer a moving, yet perceptively & mathematically coherent, frame of reference.
As a human being my task is to feel the moving pieces, using my experience to coherently articulate what I sense and feel.
In this volume readers will find no frozen light.
Here we will celebrate phase changes such as those observed in water, but we will not freeze our scientific imagination for convenience.
Science often decides to freeze a moving situation temporarily — an expected way of understanding — as long as we recognize that we have only temporarily stopped the frame.3