When matter accelerates (contracts), light shines out, and we see “sun” (energy). Perhaps this is the effect we were witnessing in the fourth state of matter experiment.
When energy accelerates (expands), light shines in, and we see “moon” (matter). Perhaps the moon is the 3-D shadow of a 4-D future we cannot see.
The singularity (time) is the same. We are seeing it from different sides of a lens.
The lens is the speed of light. When we are beneath the lens, we see sun. When we are above the lens, we see moon.
To put it another way: when below the speed of light, light will expand. When above the speed of light, light will contract.
When we are beneath the lens (beneath the speed of light), we are matter; we are the moon. When we are above the lens (above the speed of light), we are energy; we are the sun.
Let’s try to see the universe from the point of view of light. When matter contracts, light expands (shines). But when energy expands, light contracts (distills; precipitates; incarnates).
Picture a ball that is neither matter nor energy but a hybrid called MatterEnergy. MatterEnergy is … let’s think of it as dense light. It’s light that is superimposed with itself; it isn’t c, it’s c^2. MatterEnergy (c^2) is the maximum speed of any given universe. Once we exceed c^2, we make a new universe.
MatterEnergy is protean (changeable). Like plasma. Seen from a certain angle, it looks like [fast] matter; seen from another angle, it looks like [slow] energy. Dense light (c^2) is composed of two c’s (two lights). One is the observer c, and the other c varies. It can be either fast matter or slow energy in the same way that water can be either hot ice or cold water vapor.
The universe is in motion. Nothing here is really standing still. Does it looks still to you? That’s your brain, working behind the scenes. Our brains are like amazing computers; we should thank them more often.
There are two c’s. One is the observer; the other is the observed. When one is fast, the other can be slow. But “fast” and “slow” are a matter of perception.
When matter reaches the speed of light (via acceleration), energy reaches the speed of light (via deceleration). When matter is “fast,” energy can be “slow.” Optimally—for optimum health and optimum integrity of information, matter and energy are both achieving the speed of light. But that is what is optimal, not what is required. What is required is simply that the speeds of matter and energy “match.” If matter is 2x faster than light; energy will be 2x slower. If matter is 3x faster, energy will be 3x slower.
When the speeds of matter and energy match, they can “see” each other (via the two halves of the DNA), and exchange information. When matter spins left at the speed of light, energy spins right at the speed of light, and the two strands meet.
But if matter spins more slowly than the speed of light, energy must spin more quickly than the speed of light, and the double-helix is deformed. When matter spins more slowly than the speed of light (when matter is “behind time”), time is too fast. Time being too fast is a factor, I believe, in oncogenesis. When energy spins faster than the speed of light (when energy is “ahead of time”), time is too slow. Time being too slow is a factor, I believe, in pathogenesis. Because matter being too slow forces energy to be too fast, according to this hypothesis, we should see a correlation between oncogenesis and pathogenesis; i.e. we should see cancer and infection comorbidities (co-occurrences).
Light can be matter or energy in the same way that water can be ice or vapor. For water to be ice, it just has to condense (slow down). For water to be vapor, it just has to expand (speed up).
But there’s something else going on, on the other side of the speed of light lens, that we don’t see. When water condenses and becomes ice, it doesn’t just change states; it takes up less space. So what becomes of the “gap” left after water contracts? Is it still water proper—still what it was to begin with? Or has it, too—at least from the perspective of the ice on the other side of the lens—changed states?
In a closed system, water doesn’t just become ice. It becomes ice and water vapor at the same time. In the same way, light doesn’t just become matter; it becomes matter and energy at the same time. We see only half the equation. We don’t see water become ice one one side of time (an observer) and vapor on the other of time (an observer). To see that would require that we be two observers. We see water become ice or vapor. Because if we saw it become ice and vapor, who would be doing the seeing? This is a wholistic system. We must always leave space for the observer in our equations. To put it another way: we, the observer, take up space in our equations.
When matter condenses on one side of the lens of time (viz. the fourth state of matter experiment), energy appears on the other side (“sun”). When energy condenses on one side of the lens of time (viz. the double-slit experiment), matter appears on the other side (“moon”).
Energy condensing is not something we are as familiar with yet. When matter condenses, from the perspective of an observer at the speed of light, it exists to the left of time (the past). When energy condenses, from the perspective of an observer at the speed of light, it exists to the right of time (the future).
But we do not observe the future as the future. We only observe the future as the present. To observe the future, we have to surpass it. When it exists as the future—ahead of us in time—it exists as multiple realities, “many worlds,” and we do not see multiple realities. When it exists as the past—behind us in time—it exists as a single, consensus reality, which we can perceive.
According to this model, all of time is simultaneous. Past, present, and future co-exist.
To put it another way: when matter contracts, light shines out, and we see “sun.” When energy expands, light shines in, and we see “moon.” When light shines in, it is the inverse of the sun. It is a black hole. Whether light is perceived as “shining out” or “shining in” depends on the observer.
That is the heart of this hypothesis, which proposes, essentially, a new way of seeing. What we see is not a thing in itself. It is a reflection. We see as though in a mirror, through a lens. The speed of light is the lens
We are accustomed to viewing things from the material side of the speed of light lens. The convex side, where time’s arrows point away from each other, and scatter (entropy). But we are learning (as the acceleration rate of the universe reaches the speed of light) to view things from the energetic side of the speed of light lens. The concave side, where time’s arrows point toward each other (negentropy). When light shines in—when light, from the perspective of an observer at the speed of light, appears to “be swallowed”—it is a black hole. Black hole universes are future universes.
In the past, matter accelerates. In the future, energy decelerates. (From the point of view of an observer at the speed of light. The speed of light is the present. The speed of light is, you might say, our processing speed.)
When we see moon, we are inside the black hole. When we are outside the black hole—the same black hole—we see sun. “Sun” vs. “moon” is a matter of perspective.
Our brains play a role in what we observe. This isn’t a ball of matter spinning in space. Matter and energy are spinning in opposite directions inside light—inside consciousness. We are consciousness. We are the observer.
Both matter and energy think the light between them is light, but the light between them is, in a sense, their own reflections. It’s the light beyond them that is light proper. Not the light they see; the light that sees them. And then, if we pull back the lens, it is the light beyond that light that is light proper. And then we pull back the lens again. Seven times. At each outward remove, though not perceived, the speed of light is increasing. (Then, at each inward remove, though not perceived, the speed of light is decreasing.) But there is a limit to how high (zero) or how low (zero) light’s speed can go. When we cross the zero threshold, as we began to do in 2020, instead of light shining out (instead of constantly losing energy), light shines in (we constantly gain energy). We are reaching a metabolic tipping point. It has happened before. And it will happen again. And again.
The same thing can be made (rendered, seen) in different ways. If we have a potassium barrier, we can make it out of sodium. If we have a salt barrier, we can make it out of potassium.
If we have dark energy, we can make it out of matter. If we have dark matter, we can make it out of energy.
Matter and energy exist on a spectrum. We are operating this machinery—the body—from both sides of the spectrum. When matter is alkaline, it has to be fast. When matter is acidic, it can be slow. But in order for matter to be acidic, first it has to eclipse the speed of light. It has to speed up in order to slow down.
When energy is acidic, it has to be fast. When energy is alkaline, it can be slow. But in order for energy to be alkaline, first it has to dip below the speed of light. It has to slow down in order to speed up.
When matter is too alkaline, time needs to speed up (serotonin). But when matter is too alkaline, energy is too acidic, and it thinks time needs to slow down (dopamine). When the body needs serotonin, the brain thinks it needs dopamine.
When matter is too acidic, time needs to slow down (dopamine). But when matter is too acidic, energy is too alkaline, and it thinks time needs to speed up (serotonin). When the body needs dopamine, the brain thinks it needs serotonin.
There are four directions in which we can move, from which we derive the four forces. When time speeds up, light slows down. And when time slows down, light speeds up. Or, when light speeds up, time slows down. And when light slows down, time speeds up.
Light is reflected in the powers of hydrogen (think “the sun”)—pH. Time is reflected in the core metabolic rate. The two move in tandem.