Flights of reality

"It is at once humbling and stirring to imagine just how expansive reality may be."
--Brian Greene in The Hidden Reality: Parallel Universes and the Deep Laws of the Cosmos

A few things happened in the past week to expand my own personal reality as well as cause me to appreciate the heck out of the reality we all inhabit. The first event was the occasion of my 37th birthday. The second was starting Greene's book, which is a straight-up scientific explanation of the cosmos in general and parallel universes in particular.

Now, Greene is no scientist-come-lately. He is a physicist at Columbia and a leading light of string theory. He is also a ridiculously lucid writer who opens up dense cosmology to even the most math-challenged audience. Not that you can dash through his prose, but his elegant sentences are a pleasure to parse, much like wonderful poetry or literature. I admire the care he takes with each word and analogy, so that there's hardly anything to unravel. General relatively, inflation theory and the concept of the cosmic horizon settle on the brain, then sink in deeper with every paragraph.

The result is startling. It's often hard to know where quantum mechanics leave off and philosophy (or religion) begins, as the above quote shows (though Greene would quibble mightily with the religion part). The nature of reality on a cosmic scale is so awe-inspiring and huge it challenges the very concept of what counts as real. Or, rather, what doesn't count as real. Because, as Greene points out, in an infinite universe, pretty much everything we can possible fathom is, in fact, happening somewhere. Everything is reality if you go out there far enough.

Which brings us to parallel universes, the subject of the book and a very favorite science fiction plot device of mine. There is something so viscerally compelling about reality itself being fluid and infinite. We make so many decisions every moment--most seem ordinary in the extreme, but are they? Books, movies and TV shows have explored the dramatic possibilities of turning left instead of right, saying yes instead of no. The whole plot of the parallel-universe movie Sliding Doors hinges on the merest seconds between Gwyneth Paltrow missing (or catching) a subway train. To think that these realms actually exist, that you are alive in an infinite variety of somewheres is unbearably cool. Greene provides the scientific explanation, starting with the nature of the universe (or multiverse) itself and going from there. Right now, I'm reading about the total insanity of the Big Bang and how the space for everything we know and can see with our eyes and telescopes (a fairly pedestrian definition of reality) came into being in about a millionth of a blink of an eye. Which makes the seconds between one decision and the next seem like a lifetime, to say nothing of all the years of an actual life.

Which brings us to birthdays. Now, the actual day itself was not an occasion for deep contemplation. I went to a nice dinner with colleagues and friends, drank prosecco, ate organic carrot manicotti and laughed a lot. But getting older in general (the days leading up to my birthday, with the number 40 coming up in conversation with noticeable frequency) has made the idea of parallel universes more intriguing, as well as leading to a greater appreciation of this reality. Because, when all is said and done, I would love to meet my other selves, but I wouldn't exchange this reality for a new one. At year 37, this is a good place to be.

When I do think of parallel universes, actually, I think of places where the lucky chances and spirit-filled moments in my life didn't happen--not a place where other, better ones did. This might be my own lack of imagination, but I'd like to think, for all my fangirl tendencies, I actually have a solid relationship with reality. The moment I come to most frequently is meeting my first editor at a church youth event in the summer of 1990. I almost didn't go to that meeting. I was exhausted and nearly slept through it. My life would be utterly different today. Many wonderful things that happened would not have happened. At the same time, several painful events would have been avoided. I wouldn't have it any other way, as interesting as it is to think of what would have come instead. Different joys. Different angst. Although the best of all possible worlds must also exist, the ups and downs of life are surely a universal constant. It's hard to willingly trade one for the other. (I hope I still feel the same way at 47, 57 and 97!)

One aspect of parallel universes that Greene probably won't explore is the concept of internal parallel universes, the ones we carry around in our heads. This is a delightful variation on the theme, as long as these alternative "realities" are celebratory rather than regretful. I'm thinking especially of a friend and former colleague, who once described his favorite parallel universe to me. Well, he didn't quite put it like that. Instead, he talked about the life he would be leading if he hadn't dedicated every molecule of his being to urban education and, instead, moved to New York City and became a designer. Now, there is nothing else this friend could be doing in this reality than urban ed. And at the same time, his other self was alive in a part of his mind. He described in minute detail the color scheme of this other self's Manhattan apartment, the philosophy of his design style, his fabulous social life. It was clear to me (and still brings a smile years later) that this other self was real in a meaningful way. At the same time, my friend was completely at peace with the decisions that relegated this sophisticated trend setter to the alternate reality of his imagination. The universe is full of infinite realities, yet we also keep our own universes with us. They keep us grounded or hopeful or entertained--and they are no less real (no more real?) than the vast expanse of space beyond the cosmic horizon.