The universe is expanding. So … Are we? A typical answer we get to this question runs something like this: The universe is expanding like raisin bread expands, and we are the raisins. It expands, but we do not. For a great, swift synopsis of this idea (and its shortcomings), see FERMILAB, at the end of this post.
I have always found this answer to be lacking. Particularly lacking if we take into consideration the principles of cognitive science, and the idea that the brain composes the images we see.
What if it’s all a matter of perspective? From the raisin’s perspective, the bread appears to be expanding and accelerating (viz. the expanding, accelerating universe). From the bread’s perspective, the raisin appears to be decelerating and contracting (viz. the Lorentz contraction). Which one sees “the truth”?
Neither. Motion is a relative judgment that requires a frame of reference. Is my train moving—or did the train beside me just start to move?
Furthermore, what defines a raisin as a raisin? Where does the batter end and the raisin begin?
Perhaps, in a holographic universe, “raisin” and “loaf” refer to perspectives that are above, and below, the speed of light. When Mars is the loaf, the moon is the raisin. When Jupiter is the loaf, Venus is the raisin. When Saturn is the loaf, Mercury is the raisin. When light is accelerating and expanding away from the speed of light in one direction, it is simultaneously—proportionately—decelerating and contracting toward the speed of light in the other.
If the speed of light is the “tipping point” or boundary, we might similarly ask: What defines light as light?
Perhaps light functions like plasma. A stem cell. A field of possibility. It can behave as raisin or loaf—depending on who is doing the observing.
I believe the same light can be seen in different ways. From beneath its speed, it looks like energy (a wave). From above its speed, it looks like matter (a particle). But it’s the same light.
How might this duality, this “openness to interpretation,” play a role in our illnesses?
How about this: When I perceive potassium (alkalinity), I move sodium inside the cell, and expand. To keep me from expanding too much, I need vitamin K1. But vitamin K1 primes my brain to perceive pH7 as slightly more acidic than it is.
When I perceive sodium (acidity), I move potassium outside the cell, and contract. To keep me from contracting too much, I need vitamin K2. But vitamin K2 primes my brain to perceive pH7 as slightly more alkaline than it is.
It’s a loop.
(Note: When I move sodium inside the cell, calcium follows. Calcium signaling plays a role in COVID-19. To mitigate this, I can dump potassium in my urine—but that creates its own problems: SARS-CoV2 Infection and the Importance of Potassium Balance)
A very smart analysis from FERMILAB’s Jim Pivarski: “Is the Universe Getting Bigger Or Am I Getting Smaller?”