By now most of you all know I’m in to what other people would consider “bizarre”. I collect books that fulfill the explorer and inner investigator in me. After purchasing several books off Amazon I – obviously – read them all, but one book in particular stood out the most to me; a book by Dr. Fred Alan Wolf called ” The Yoga of Time Travel: How The Mind Can Defeat Time”. Sounds eccentric, right? Time travel?! Well, its books like these that give a whole new perspective on life and the power of your mind. Before I go on about the book here is a little background on the author:
Fred Alan Wolf (born December 3, 1934) is an American theoretical physicist specializing in quantum physics and the relationship between physics and consciousness. He is a former physics professor at San Diego State University, and has helped to popularize science on the Discovery Channel. He is the author of a number of books about physics, including Taking the Quantum Leap (1981), The Dreaming Universe (1994), Mind into Matter (2000), and Time Loops and Space Twists (2011).
Wolf was a member in the 1970s, with Jack Sarfatti and others, of the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory‘s Fundamental Fysiks Group founded in May 1975 by Elizabeth Rauscher and George Weissmann. His theories about the interrelation of consciousness and quantum physics were described by Newsweek in 2007 as “on the fringes of mainstream science.”
These are one of those books that I can’t describe in my own words, so I pasted the first few pages that sum up what this book is about. Even if it’s a tad bit long I HIGHLY recommend reading it – you’d spend 10 minutes reading a blog post about make-up, fashion, cosmetics etc., why not spend it on something that can benefit you mentally in the long-run? Some of the terms can be a bit too scientific but you’ll still understand where he’s coming from or what he’s saying (plus, there’s always Google to check the definition of a word!). If you’ve been persuaded here’s the intro to his book below:
“I don’t understand you,” said Alice. “It’s dreadfully confusing!”
“That’s the effect of living backwards,” the Queen said kindly: “it always makes one a little giddy at first—”
“Living backwards!” Alice repeated in great astonishment. “I never heard of such a thing!”
“—but there’s one great advantage in it, that one’s memory works both ways.”
“I’m sure mine only works one way,” Alice remarked. “I can’t remember things before they happen.”
“It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,” the Queen remarked.
Through the Looking-Glass
Most of us assume, as Alice does, that whatever we can remember has already taken place. If asked why we don’t remember scenes from our future, we might answer: “Because, dummy, they haven’t happened yet!” But as the Queen in Lewis Carroll’s delightful book suggests, perhaps we do have memories of the future, however nonsensical that may sound. Consider the albeit radical possibility that the Queen is right: memory does work both ways. That is, you are perfectly able to remember the future just as well as you can recall the past. Further, consider that having a two-way memory could lead, as the Queen suggests, to distinct advantages. For example, it might help you deal with synchronicities and experiences of déjà vu, avoid health problems, make significant predictions about your life, and offer many other benefits, as may become clear as this book unfolds.
To begin exploring this idea, let’s think first about the nature of memory as we commonly know it—having to do with the recall of past events. Certainly you remember your last vacation, as well as a favorite restaurant you went to, or a show you saw, and so on. And I’m sure there are some past experiences you don’t remember, though possibly your spouse does: “Oh, don’t you remember that day in Paris when we saw those flowers on the bank of the Seine?” she or he asks, and you draw a blank.
Ever wonder why your companion remembers things that you don’t? The popular conception, based on brain research, is that whether you recall any details or not, your memory contains a complete record of your past, as if it were a movie. You are most likely, however, to recall only those events that made an impression on you. That day in Paris, the problem was that you simply weren’t paying attention, and those flowers along the Seine affected your spouse more deeply than they did you.
To be sure, sometimes we also forget events that have made a great impression. Usually they have been traumatic, and we don’t want to remember them. In some such cases, though, deep psychoanalysis can help us improve our recall.
Regardless, further analysis by memory experts indicates that the popular adage is false: Memory is not restricted to only what has made an impression on us, positively or negatively. To the contrary, it turns out that actively working on one’s memory can greatly enhance it. And it turns out this work can lead to remembering, not only the past, but also the future. As we will discover, this effort plays a key role in the mind-yoga that allows for time travel.
So, suppose you had been to the future and what you saw was either so uneventful that you didn’t notice or so scary that you simply decided not to remember it. According to what we shall find out in this book, your ability to remember the future depends on your ability to pay close attention to these future events, not just idly glance over them as you may have done the flowers along the Seine. With some guidance and analysis, perhaps you could learn to recall the future with as much success as such procedures can enable you to recall forgotten past events.
I’ve heard that some therapists use a technique called “past- life recall” to help patients deal with unexplained trauma and psychological problems they are encountering in this life. I have also heard of a technique that enables people to “recall” future lives or events so they are better prepared to face what seems inevitable or unavoidable in the near or distant future. Whether this is pure imagination or wishful thinking is difficult to say. Of course if you only believe in the present moment—whatever that may be—such a discussion seems pointless and perhaps unscientific. But suppose there were a reasonable scientific basis for believing in the concrete existence of both the past and the future—coexisting with the present in some yet to be determined manner. Then what? In that case, both the future and the past would be as real to you as the drugstore on the corner or the North Pole, even though—sitting in your chair reading this book—you aren’t at either of those places now. You certainly wouldn’t remember the North Pole if you hadn’t been there yet, would you? But that doesn’t mean the North Pole does not exist. By the same token, perhaps the future is just as real, and the only reason we have no memory of it is because we haven’t visited it yet.
But let’s suppose you had “been there and done that,” as they say. What would it mean to have a memory of the future? Isn’t memory a record of what you did in the past? But if in the “past” you went to the future, how would you deal with a memory of it? Trying to think this way does make one, as the Queen puts it, “a little giddy at first.”
Indeed, such ideas may seem like science fiction, but when we examine what scientists are doing these days in terms of realizing time travel and time manipulation, you will see that science fiction has become science fact. My hope is that if nothing else, after reading this book you will understand just what is meant by time travel and why scientists are now taking it seriously.
Surprising as it may seem, a scientific basis for time travel was established more than a hundred years ago; Herbert George Wells wrote about it in 1895, and Albert Einstein and Hermann Minkowski showed how it was theoretically possible in 1905 and 1908. In fact, more than fifty years ago, scientists were proving time travel to be a reality. Documentation shows that in carefully defined laboratory experiments, objects were observed that literally slowed down in time, such that some of them lived nine or ten times their natural life span.
Sounds unbelievable? I’ll explain more about that experiment shortly. In the meantime, let me tell you a secret: Some of the remarkable people you meet in life are time travelers. A few of these people know it; the others time travel without realizing it, but they do it just the same. These are the people who appear older than their years or, yes, often enough considerably younger. I, too, time travel. In fact, I do it nearly every day, especially when I find myself in creative activity—lost in my work, as we say. Later, we’ll look more deeply into this phenomenon, too.
Some Preliminary Meanderings in the Temporal Stream:
Just think what it would mean to live nine or ten times longer than your putative four-score-plus years—that is, perhaps as long as eight hundred years! Or imagine that you live through ten years of time while those around you only experience one second of time passing, or that you experience one second of time passing while those around you age ten years.
In the latter case, during those ten years each of them would experience the earth daily rotating about its axis and note its yearly movement across the solar system, but you would not. Traveling
through time at this breakneck “speed,” you would grow one day older while the world around you ages more than 86 thousand years. In ten years of your life lived at this rate, nearly countless generations of humanity would age more than 315 million years— enough time for you to see evolution on a scale beyond imagination.
The former case would be equally strange, since the world and all of its processes would slow down terribly, so much so that the world around you would grow strangely silent, dark, and still. Even light would move very slowly from your point of view. Light travels at more than 670 million miles per hour, but that hour would stretch out for you to 36 thousand years, slowing light down to a crawl of about two miles per hour for you. You can walk faster than that! Since you wouldn’t see light until it struck your eyes, you would experience the world in flashes, like a stroboscopic light show.
However, even this scenario isn’t the whole story. It assumes that you could hold on to the normal timing of your own bodily processes and think as you normally do, with full neuronal cooperation at your normal speed of functioning. But if your body’s processes slow down as well, things would get even more inter- esting. Consider your sense of sight. If the speed of light slowed down, so would its vibrational rate, which means that colors would change so drastically that they would be impossible to see with your eyes. A similar slowing of all of the physical phenomena around you would result. In other words, the world would most likely vanish from your senses if you were aging ten years in one second.
Even more bizarreness awaits the time traveler who can move backward through time. New paradoxes pop up, depending on who moves relative to whom. If, for example, you move backward through time while the world around you passes at the normal rate of one second per second into the future, you will gradually get younger while those around you age. If you move backward into time even faster, you run into the paradox of just what happens to you when you reach the moment of your birth. Do you then need your mother to be present? Even worse, suppose you
move to the period just before the sperm meets the egg that made you. Since you wouldn’t be a “you” yet, just what would be going on? What would happen to your consciousness in a time before your conception?
Or consider the other possibility: You move backward through everyone else’s time stream so that while you see them grow younger and all processes running backward in time—like a movie in reverse—you go on aging at a normal rate. Perhaps in one second you move counter to a ten-year retrograde time stream. In one year you would move back more than 86 thousand years.
Is anything like this even possible? Suppose you went back more than 500 million years into the past, before humans even evolved. What would happen if you accidentally stepped on a life form that was one of your ancestors? Could you ever be born?
In this book we’ll examine several such temporal paradoxes and I’ll show you how it is possible, from the point of view of physics, to beat the paradox game and return to any point in time you wish without suffering any obvious consequences. I say “obvious” because even though there are consequences of time travel, they aren’t what we might expect. As we shall see, it all has to do with the mind and learning to change possibility into reality.
Staying Young While Living Longer:
Let’s take a look at that experiment in which, more than fifty years ago, scientists observed objects that lived nine or ten times their expected life span.
Every day subatomic particles are created whenever cosmic particles from the sun or a distant galaxy collide with particles in our upper atmosphere. Specifically, these cosmic particles are protons, once known as cosmic rays, that are subatomic particles
making up the nuclei of atoms. Few cosmic rays make their way to sea level. Hence nearly all of these newborn particles, called muons or mu mesons, are created at very high altitudes of our planet. These newborns can be counted with a little patience and a special device called a scintillation counter (which, as its name suggests, scintillates when something very tiny, like a muon, hits it). These counting devices can also determine what happens to these little babies after they have been detected. They can even count how long they live and what happens to them when they die. Upon death these particles decay, and when they decay, they suddenly disappear, leaving behind remnants.
Whereas we humans have a life span of around eighty years, give or take a few, muons survive intact for a much briefer time— an average of about two microseconds (two millionths of a second). However, some die very quickly, in under one microsecond, and some live for as long as six microseconds. Very few are found at the end of, say, eight microseconds.
In one experiment, physicists took scintillation counters to the top of a mountain 6300 feet above sea level. They counted the number of muons at that altitude and found that some where around 568 newborns passed into their counters each hour. They then followed the muons through their short lives, letting them travel down a short vertical tube where they came to rest and eventually decayed near a second scintillation counter. As expected, only 300 resting muons lived past two microseconds. Around 30 of them made it to the ripe old age of 6.3 microseconds. Because the scientists knew how far these particles traveled along the tube’s length, they could determine how fast they flew before they rested and decayed, and they found that they moved at very near lightspeed.
Next, they took their counters down to the seaside. What did they anticipate there? Well, if a muon lived long enough and moved at near lightspeed, it could travel the 6300 feet down to sea level in about six microseconds. But given that most of them don’t live that long, the scientists expected to find only a handful surviving—maybe 30 oldsters, say, who could make the journey.
Surprisingly, however, many more than 30 survived. In fact, around 412 made the trip without mishap.
How could that many live that long? Travel may add a certain pizzazz to one’s life, but I have never heard of it lengthening one’s life span. That is, not unless you take Einstein’s relativity theory into account. The theory says that time does not function the same way for a moving object as it does for one standing still. Moving objects experience a slowing down of time, so that while the rest of the world passes through a given time period, the moving object passes a shorter time period. In this respect, we can estimate how long the 412 muons that reached sea level “thought” they had lived. It turns out that that they experienced a time period of only around 0.7 microseconds. Compare that with 6.3 microseconds—the time it takes to make the trip down the mountain at near lightspeed—and you see that this yields a factor of 9, exactly what would be calculated by Einstein’s theory. In other words, the muons that survived the trip lived more than nine times their expected life span.
What is going on here? For the muons, nothing really extraordinary happened. They just lived their short, seven-tenths-of-a- microsecond life spans on their way down the mountain. But it just so happens that we on the ground passed through 6.3 microseconds of our life spans at the same time that the muons passed through only 0.7 microseconds. In what sense did these two periods take the same amount of time? In trying to think about such things, our very figures of speech become perplexing. Our language is so based on thinking in terms of absolute time that the mere idea of relative times hardly makes any sense. As Alice says, “It’s dreadfully confusing!”
Relative distances, on the other hand, make sense. I can trav-el from my living room to my bedroom—some dozens of feet—by walking off a mile if I go downstairs, out the door, and around the block a few times before I walk into the bedroom. Or I can walk to the kitchen first and then to the bedroom. Each measure of distance is different. The distance is relative to the route I take. I always start in the living room and end up in the bedroom, but the
distance I travel to get there can be, and is normally, different (since I rarely walk in a straight, shortest-distance line) each time I make the journey.
We assume that, in contrast to moving through space, moving from one point to another in time is possible only along a single “line” between those points. What if, however, time were not linear but more like distance? Then relative times would be understandable. We would say that those who went from one event to another would find their times as different from each other as if they had walked different distances between two points in space.
A Quick Look into the Future of This Book:
In the chapters ahead, we will look at space and time with new eyes, taking into consideration how both relativity (the science of the very large) and quantum mechanics (the science of the very small) have completely altered what we mean by time and space. We’ll look farther into physical time and space and learn why they are considered manifestations of one thing rather than separate categories. We will also explore the notion of sacred time. We will see how time, mind, and spirit have a surprising relation with each other. And we will learn how a mind yoga for time travel springs forth from this relationship, offering surprising benefits and accessible to us all.
… Very captivating and fascinating- to say the least. If the first few pages above have really caught your attention and you’re curious as to what the author has to offer, you can buy the book off Amazon HERE. I, for one, don’t regret buying this book whatsoever!