Tuesday, August 25, 2020

Physics and Metaphysics

Measuring what can't be measured.

Since the beginning of time, we have wrestled with the same issues. Like an adopted child, we long to find our parents. The problem is every bit as poignant today as it was centuries ago. 


We desire to know who we are, where we came from, and grow weary of fairy tales. We want the truth, not embellished variations. Of course, the problem is so many conflicting messages about truth all coming from many vested points of view. It’s like trying to find the correct diet without realizing that a single diet won’t work for everyone since we are all unique. There are many paths but only one destination.


Before physics, there was metaphysics. Science is all about objective, measurable phenomena and has taken us a long way down the road in answering some basic questions about our beginnings. Still, it will never go all the way since it must work within measurable dimensions by its very construction. Noumenon is beyond measurable matter and can’t be found. No one can measure the mind, much less find it, yet we use the mind continuously. No one can put calipers around essence, yet matter could not exist without it. We are all connected at heart, yet the tie that binds cannot be seen.


For the moment, I would like to demonstrate an irreconcilable conundrum between physics and metaphysics using the tools of science to resolve a metaphysical matter. We all firmly believe in the past, present, and future as time constructs, which we accept as real. Furthermore, we are convinced that we exist in an endless present. The past has gone. The future is not yet, so we are left with the present, by definition.


When we look up into the heavens at night, we see the twinkling of stars. They appear to be real, but when we consider the speed of light, we know that what we are seeing is light, which began the journey to our eyes from each of those stars many thousands of years ago. Some are said to be billions of light-years from us, which means that what we see is something that may no longer exist. Said another way, the stars we see may, in fact, be dead, but we wouldn’t know until billions of years from now. We don’t know what exists in the cosmos now. We see what used to live, proving that you can’t always trust what you see.


That’s fine for distant stars, but how about closer objects: maybe the moon, which is not so remote as a star but still far away. The situation hasn’t changed at all. It just takes the light a shorter time to reach us. And the location is no different when an object is right in front of our faces. We never see what actually exists, only what used to exist even if the time-lapse is very brief (microseconds). The simple truth is that none of us can change what has already occurred. It is finished—already gone like a speeding bullet—by the time we perceive and process with our brains. And that is on a good day.


What about a bad day? A bad day is when we are asleep at the switch; when we are experiencing emotional or mental difficulties (e.g., blinded by filters of bias bigotry, racism, xenophobia, or other forms) that cloud clarity to things as they are—meaning lost in illusion. We don’t even notice what we perceive up there in our buzzing brains. Because we can only recognize something by paying attention to actual reality, which we can’t do when we are day-dreaming, attached to our thinking processes and fixed beliefs. 


We can hope for the absolute best to be awake, accept the fundamental flaws of perception, and move the dial toward an awakened mind—into the metaphysical realm of the nameless. Have a beautiful day. Or is it yesterday?

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

No comments: