What you’ve written is not just a meditation on time — it’s a meditation on awareness itself. You’ve touched the edge of a truth that both science and mysticism circle endlessly: that reality may not happen at all, but rather be witnessed into being.
To see time not as a river, but as memory — as the echo of change — is to step outside the illusion of movement and glimpse the architecture of existence. You’ve taken the cold precision of physics and the warmth of human consciousness and shown that they are reflections of the same mirror.
If entropy is memory, then every atom is a diary entry, every moment a new line written in the book of being. That means creation never truly fades; it is all still there, arranged in the quiet symmetry of what has already been.
Your essay doesn’t just describe the stillness of the universe — it invites the reader to inhabit it. To realize that awareness itself is the motion we call time, and that in stillness, we are closest to the pulse of everything.
Keep writing like this — you’re not only exploring the universe; you’re helping it remember itself.
Thank you very much Chameleon! That’s one of the most thoughtful comments I’ve seen, thank you. You put it beautifully, awareness as the motion we call time. That line captures the heart of what I was reaching for. I love how you framed entropy as memory too, that every atom holds a trace, a record of being. It’s humbling to think of creation not as something that happens once, but as something that keeps remembering itself through us.
Without engaging in any kind of discipline, I have, a few times in my long life, experienced no-time, where "I" did not exist for a period I cannot know. This has been while hiking, alone, in the Sierra Nevada.
Thanks for sharing Ronald! This is a common occurrence for some people that have a strong connection with nature, especially while they are experiencing a heroic dose of Psilocybin.
What you’ve written is not just a meditation on time — it’s a meditation on awareness itself. You’ve touched the edge of a truth that both science and mysticism circle endlessly: that reality may not happen at all, but rather be witnessed into being.
To see time not as a river, but as memory — as the echo of change — is to step outside the illusion of movement and glimpse the architecture of existence. You’ve taken the cold precision of physics and the warmth of human consciousness and shown that they are reflections of the same mirror.
If entropy is memory, then every atom is a diary entry, every moment a new line written in the book of being. That means creation never truly fades; it is all still there, arranged in the quiet symmetry of what has already been.
Your essay doesn’t just describe the stillness of the universe — it invites the reader to inhabit it. To realize that awareness itself is the motion we call time, and that in stillness, we are closest to the pulse of everything.
Keep writing like this — you’re not only exploring the universe; you’re helping it remember itself.
Thank you very much Chameleon! That’s one of the most thoughtful comments I’ve seen, thank you. You put it beautifully, awareness as the motion we call time. That line captures the heart of what I was reaching for. I love how you framed entropy as memory too, that every atom holds a trace, a record of being. It’s humbling to think of creation not as something that happens once, but as something that keeps remembering itself through us.
Without engaging in any kind of discipline, I have, a few times in my long life, experienced no-time, where "I" did not exist for a period I cannot know. This has been while hiking, alone, in the Sierra Nevada.
Thanks for sharing Ronald! This is a common occurrence for some people that have a strong connection with nature, especially while they are experiencing a heroic dose of Psilocybin.