Sunday, 18 August 2019

Measuring your life in geological time - by Lu Hersey


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. 

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




8 comments:

Joan Lennon said...

Great post - thanks, Lu!

Moira Butterfield said...

I can see you went on a space journey of thought there! Fascinating that our early ancestors night have seen weird sky flares. Might have influenced their development of sky gods, perhaps! Oh look. Now you've got me going, too....

LuWrites said...

It was a very round about the houses way of getting to the point - but that's navel gazing for you :)

Jenny Rees said...

Naval gazing is important. It centres us - see what I did there? And as for geo times It may be five desks work before I see the light at the end of the black hole that is publishing, if ever. But in the great firmament we stars shine bright in our own little galaxy. So shine on Lu.

Sue Purkiss said...

Looking doubtfully at the width of my desk here...

LuWrites said...

It may not seem that far, Sue - but you can measure it... :)

Rowena House said...

Thanks, Lu. We need a new yardstick for slowness, given glacial now means fast-melting. And I don't believe star-gazing/contemplating the infinite is navel-gazing. Contemplating our place in the cosmos is very healthy, imho.

Katherine Langrish said...

Lovely and creepy, both, Lu. Thankyou!