Over the last two blog posts I've been talking about multiple universes. Scientists have no literal proof they exist, but they have been using the laws of physics to explore the possibility as well as various possible versions of how multiverses might work.
I've been exploring this possibility in my imagination ever since first reading about it in new age books and seeing a multiverse-based sci-fi movie or two. Ideas like this really excite me.
My adult life has pretty much been a stream of experiences that have shaken me ever more loose of seeing things around me as solidly physically based. The result is that I've learned to keep an open mind about new ideas. I let the idea hang in the backdrop while I observe things going on around me. Then maybe I play around a little bit.
Regards the multiple universes idea, I have often joked about my husband offering me proof. I've drawn that conclusion based on more than one experience of my husband and I having entirely different recollections of some event we've experienced together.
Now, this isn't a comment on husbands and wives with differing opinions. It's not that I argue that I said this or we did that and he argues the opposite. Instead, as we each tell our version of the story it is clear we lived through the same event, and together, yet there are significant differences in actual events we each recall.
Others often chuckle at my husband and I as if this is a case of differing opinions. But one dear friend of mine knew exactly what this was like. She'd had the same experience with her guy. She was there in her story. I was there in mine. We were certain of what we experienced. Yet our guys were also there in the respective stories, equally certain of what they experienced. And their experiences were so significantly different as to give her and I the immediate and inarguable impression that we and our guys had been in different universes.