“Matter, according to the avant-garde of subatomic physics, cannot ultimately be separated from what appears to be empty space. It is, rather, a part of space, and part of a deeper, invisible order from which reality’s unseen conscious essence precipitates, as material form, and then returns to the invisible again. Space then, is not empty, but filled with highly concentrated conscious energy, the source of everything in the universe.
In ‘The Holographic Universe,’ an elaboration upon the implication of Bohm’s genius, Michael Talbott describes all of material creation as a “ripple … a pattern of excitation in the midst of an imaginably vast ocean.” Talbott goes on to say, paraphrasing Bohm, that, “despite its apparent materiality and enormous size, the universe does not exist in and of itself, but is the stepchild of something far vaster and more ineffable,”
This extract is from ‘Forbidden history’ edited by Douglas Kenyon. Is it not fascinating to think that our universe does not exist in and of itself?
(To a metaphysical Hindu like me, this challenging perspective cannot be sensed as something absolutely new. There is a resonance between this new paradigm in modern science and the cosmology of the ancient Hindus. Since I am not an Indian, I cannot be attacked for any allegiance to the subcontinent.
From my reading of the major religions and their great teachers, as well as of the methodology of science, and the findings (most recent theories) presented to us mere mortals as representing known reality, I find the cosmology of the ancients appealing. Without proof, without hope of proof to satisfy the requirements of modern science, I am left with belief. This does not concern me, as I am prepared to change my beliefs, in a manner comparable to that of the world’s great scholars and researchers in relation to their own findings. That is what scholarship is all about, is it not?
Change is ubiquitous. New understanding in any realm of knowledge will necessitate change, albeit reluctantly by some stakeholders. However, as the life-guiding principle which I have borrowed from my father says, ‘The dogs may bark, but the caravans move on’!
There is now an unsolvable question – are some of our modern thinkers of new paradigms reincarnations of some of the ancients, whoever they were?)