Most people have more than enough to contend
with simply living their lives. They feel no compulsion to spend time
contemplating abstracts like infinity, or whether life has a higher purpose - because they're busy DOING something, like writing a novel or cleaning the
cooker. This post is mainly for the rest of us, who probably waste far too much
time gazing at our navels.
Last week I read a thing about the 'cold spot'
scientists have recently observed out in the deep universe, where there should
be about 100,000 galaxies - but there are none. They're missing. One
explanation is that the 'cold spot' could be a place where a parallel universe
is in the slow process of colliding with ours. That's a whole universe
colliding with ours, not just a galaxy colliding with our galaxy. If there is
an infinite void filled with infinite universes, eventually there is every
possibility that one expanding universe might collide with another.
To explain
the apparent absence of galaxies, New Scientist suggests that the universe (possibly) colliding with ours could be a 'mirrorverse' - like looking in a mirror where everything is the other way around. Back to front. If so, the existence of a 'mirrorverse' might also prove
the existence of dark matter in the void. (Got to admit they lost me there, so don't
ask. Just watch Star Trek Discovery, it's probably more helpful.)
Anyway, no need to panic - this collision with a
mirrorverse isn't likely to affect us in our lifetimes. Geological time is
slow. Really, really slow. Yet even in the relatively short period that there
have been people on the planet, some major changes have occurred. Stars that
once shone bright in the sky have gone supernova and are no longer visible. A
mere two million years ago a black hole formed at the centre of our galaxy,
sending flares out into space that would have appeared brighter than the moon
in the night sky. Our early ancestors would have seen it.
Sometimes contemplating the vastness of space
and time and the idea of an infinite void can seem overwhelming, but we can
bring geological time down to a more measurable thing. Like the distance of the
moon from the earth.
Apparently
the moon moves away from the earth at the rate of 3.78 cms a year. When it
first formed, the moon was only 14,000 miles away from the earth and would have
been MASSIVE in the sky (not that there was anyone around to see it), but just
as the universe expands ever outwards, gradually the moon moves away from us, as
gravitational pull weakens.
Interestingly,
3.78 cms is the same rate at which your fingernails grow. It may not seem
much, but you can measure it. To anything living 300 million years
ago, the moon would have been 114,000 kms closer to the earth (allow for
slightly dodgy maths) so surely it must have appeared much bigger? The tides
around Pangea would have been spectacular. And was it still perceptibly bigger
to our distant, moon-gazing ancestors?
I worked out that over the course of my life (if I live an average lifespan), the moon will have moved over two metres further away from the earth. That's more than the width of my desk. And that's how I've started measuring my life in geological time.
I worked out that over the course of my life (if I live an average lifespan), the moon will have moved over two metres further away from the earth. That's more than the width of my desk. And that's how I've started measuring my life in geological time.
You can apply it to your writing life too. If you have a manuscript out on sub, you can almost feel geological time passing. And the moon will
probably be at least another 3.78cms further away from the earth before anyone
gets to read the book I'm currently writing...
Longer, if I
don't stop navel gazing.
Lu Hersey
