David Bohm talks about the behavior of ink in glycerin. It disperses, but then it can also return to its initial state—something we are unaccustomed to seeing. We see teacups shatter, but we never see them become whole again.
I am applying the principle of “ink in glycerin” to our ideas about the universe. Instead of treating the background as a vacuum, what if we treat the background as a medium that has a “baseline” density to which it wants to return? (And wouldn’t the background in a holographic universe be not a vacuum but light?) Let’s say this is a holographic universe that wants to have the density of light. Matter is too dense; energy is too diffuse.
I am using the idea of ink in glycerin to look at proton gradients, a measure of density. When I pool the ink too much, I create deep indigo. Deep indigo wants to explode. When I disperse the ink too much, I create pale violet. Pale violet wants to condense. To achieve homeostasis (a “resting state”), the ink and the glycerin must be dispersed evenly.
If you and I have the “right” proton gradient, we don’t have to deal with forces. But could the perception of forces resulting from a “wrong” proton gradient play a role in our diseases?
When I am too dense, I have to fight the accelerating/expanding force (Parkinson’s?). When I am too diffuse, I have to fight the decelerating/condensing force (ALS?). In an accelerating/expanding universe, when I am too dense, it is as if I am too far backward in time. When I am too diffuse, it is as if I am too far forward.
Once I am too far backward or too far forward in time, watch how easy it is to become metabolically trapped.
If I am too diffuse, I need to condense. To condense, I could use magnetism (iron). But here’s the problem: When I consume iron, I read the condensing force, and this is my cue to expand.
According to this model, the speed of light is a hidden variable. I exist against a backdrop, a “fabric,” with which I harmonize. When I perceive the expanding force, I condense. When I perceive the condensing force, I expand.
So, back to diseases of the central nervous system.
If I am too expanded—too far forward in time—I need to condense. To condense, I could use magnetism (iron). But when I consume iron, my brain reads it as the condensing force, and this causes me to expand—even though I am already too expanded. In ALS, I wonder if I (the pineal gland) am feedback looping on iron.
If I am too dense—too far backward in time—I need to expand. To expand, I could use the opposite of magnetism (manganese). But when I consume manganese, my brain reads it as the expanding force, and this causes me to condense—even though I am already too dense. In Parkinson’s, I wonder if I (the pineal gland) am feedback looping on manganese.
In a holographic universe, I want my pineal gland to have the right density. If it is too dense, it will read light as having speed it does not possess. If it is too diffuse, it will read light as having density it does not possess.
