‘Energy trips the light fantastic and we all breathe a sigh of relief. There are wondrous things ‘out there’ too numerous to count, and too complete to experience as the aliens that we are. There are beginnings and there are endings, and this is one of many stories. Right now you are here and now. Feel the earth beneath your feet and smell the raindrops at your fingertips. A journey you began aeons ago is now coming to its end.’ (Phillips, 2002 – DR 9th July, London)
In the beginning there is me, and only me. I am at the centre of my own personal experience and the reality that I perceive from any given focus. That I am the same from one moment to the next is a gross misunderstanding of what life is about. To answer a question I posed myself at the time that the above quote was channelled and written, what lies in between life and death is a story. Stories are the very foundations of humanity and our peculiar perception of its existence. But in order to tell a story one needs time and time is a strange beast indeed and of its nature it is a human construct even though it may have its foundations on a much more profound level than is humanly perceived.
Time is characteristic of physical human reality and it measures the way in which we choose to perceive life, in a linear, A to B manner. Yet measuring time is more difficult and based on individual perception. We might use a watch to measure time, yet the watch itself relies on your ability to look at it and read it. Time is much harder to measure within the scope of thoughts, memories and emotions. Life would seem to be a series of moments strung together by our ability to perceive one moment to the next. However, quantifying a ‘moment’ is near enough impossible. It is very difficult indeed to say when one moment begins and ends. It would perhaps be easier to describe it in terms of a focussed intensity. Our lives are full of moments, yet we only recall the ones that have an impact on us and that are relevant to us.