The sun and moon that we observe are not objective and tangible. They are the poles of our vision. Our sight is circumscribed; we see only one day at a time. At one extreme of ‘a day,’ time is so cold, light is accelerating. At the other extreme of ‘a day,’ time is so hot, light is decelerating. The terms “hot” and “cold” are relative, and they mirror each other in intensity. They are, in a sense, the twin sides of time. They are the same speed of light, seen from opposite sides of the spectrum: the matter side (day), or the energy side (night).
Here’s another way of thinking about it: The moon is so cold that it pulls light in. The sun is so hot that it pushes light out. The sun is our gas giant. The moon is our rocky inner planet.
The sun and the moon are our mirrors—the end-poles of our time signature, our universe. The outer gas giants and the inner rocky planets are also end-pole mirrors; they mirror different time signatures from our own (carbon’s).
Everything here is us. There are no aliens. If emergence theory is correct, the past gives rise to the future, and the future gives rise to the past; time moves both backward and forward; everything has happened already. In a sense, consciousness is language, and the world is story. There may be ‘other worlds’—a universe in which, for instance, the July plot to kill Hitler occurred twenty minutes earlier and succeeded, where Anne Frank lived, became a famous writer, had grandchildren and great-grandchildren—but they are all us.
Not only are there no aliens, but that which we consider alien—’enemies,’ pathogens—is less foreign than we realize. It is us, experiencing time in a different way. The universe is of a piece. It is one cloth. When I look into the face of my ‘enemy’, I see my brother.
The sun looks hot because we are looking forward in time. When we look forward in time, there is no consensus. We do not see ‘one,’ but many. The sun is what the past sees, when it looks forward.
The moon looks cold because we are looking backward in time. When we look backward in time, there is consensus. We do not see ‘many,’ but one. The moon is what the future sees, when it looks backward.
Another way to envision it: the moon is the actual interface, what we typically call the earth. The light outside the moon is the past; the light inside the moon is the future. From inside the moon, when the future looks back, it sees the sun (the moon’s concave, inner surface). From outside the moon, when the past looks back, it sees the moon (the moon’s convex, outer surface).
The sun and moon remain the same relative to each other, but they do not remain the same, objectively. We do not perceive time changing because the change takes place on both sides of the lens. We do not perceive it in the same way you would not perceive your own expansion, if everything in your environment were to expand apace. The sun and moon change in scale, but they change in unison, invisibly.
At night, time slows down, and light speeds up (melatonin, CBD, “cold,” alkaline). During the day, time speeds up, and light slows down (dimethyltryptamine, LSD, “hot,” acidic). The terms cold and hot, as well as acidic and alkaline, are relative; they depend upon an observer, with a specific pH (acidity/alkalinity) and spin rate (rate of basal metabolism).
There is an invisible homeostasis behind everything we perceive. The universe is one cloth; it is of a piece. Only if we are cold (matter) can we accelerate. Only if we are hot (energy) can we decelerate.
Our world is not comprised of rocks spinning in a vacuum. It is composed of densities of light that mirror each other on either side (left or right, concave or convex) of a lens.
Ultimately, light is a fiction. Light is an impression created by time’s movement.