Wednesday, December 29, 2021
9:55 a.m. In watching “The Wonderful: Tales from the International Space Station” yesterday, there was a segment about the loss of the Columbia on reentry. I remember a friend stopping in to see me before going up for the Monroe program he was going to take. I can’t remember his name or anything about him except he was an engineer, had worked at Langley, lived in the Newport News area, and was friends with an old woman I liked. Anyway, I didn’t know what had happened, and he had been listening to news about it all the way up. So I had him do a little ceremony – we did it together – to frame the impact of the flight on him in his coming program. Awfully nice guy, I wish I could remember more about him. But not remembering is the point of this entry. I was remembering that, and realizing that I surf the present moment, more or less, and all that past is inaccessible to me. I can’t think that this must be a bad thing. It’s just what is. It certainly is curious, though, a funny amnesiac way to live.
I wonder. Guys, when we regain our access, after dissolution of the 3D body, what is the point of all those memories? I mean by that, what do they serve? An initial reorienting, I can see. They show us what our life looked like as a unit rather than as disconnected snippets. But presumably they continue to exist – and then what?
The memories exist because the moments continue to exist. If there is a moment involving two people, that moment belongs to them together, even though they will have experienced it separately and differently, and will remember it (that is, will fit it into context) according to the logic of each life, not some compromise bridge between two. And of course the seven astronauts who died together will therefore share their final time together [that is, the final mission as a whole] with perhaps a greater intensity than they might have, had their landing been successful.
The moments continue to exist. That is what the “Akashic record” is, the moments themselves. It is not an edited record, nor a precis, nor a view from any one person’s perspective. It is what happened, and as such is available for extensive data mining, for those who may be or may become interested.
So we could watch Lincoln sign the Emancipation Proclamation, say.
You could, but “watch” isn’t exactly what would happen. You would, let’s say, empathize actively; you would be part of the experience in a sort of virtual reality. And it would affect you. By definition, you would only go to somewhen that interested you for whatever reason. The deeper and more serious your reason, the deeper the experience.
You once advised me not to go autograph hunting.
If we remember rightly, we drew a distinction between seriousness of purpose and frivolous intent. It was not particularly aimed at you. Frivolous intent is not your besetting sin.
Enlightening as usual. Thanks.
“The memories exist because the moments continue to exist.”
And so, with a later day’s entry about continually modified stored memories, what if what I remember is not what apparently happened? At least, it seems as if some of the memories I’m now accessing don’t match what I remember happening at the time? Am always surprised to find these glitches.