The Kyle Phoenix Blog: Kyle Phoenix Answers: Could our dreams be from parallel universes?

I often dream of myself, my family, etc with slight but significant changes. Houses are different but still familiar, relationships exist, I am me but slightly different. People who are dead are alive.

I believe that those we consider dead are simply some place else. That there is a some place else. That religion and myth and folklore have distorted the glimpses we get of that other place.

My grandmother, aunts, uncle, cousins and parents have all died and yet for decades I've had interactions with them in something that is unlike the same "feel" as a dream.

I think we all sense something.....else, something more. Why we resonate so deeply with some entertainment representations like the Force. That somehow, perhaps beyond our ability now resides the ability to access that. A short Time ago airplanes, even hot air balloons, flying for man, was impossible, a feat beyond the limit we knew. Space travel. Going to the moon. Deep sea exploring. Submarines.

Right this moment there are thousands of people living underwater. There are at least a million people, perfectly safe hurtling through the air at hundreds of miles an hour. I am typing this missive, that the whole world with access, can see in a minute of clicking Submit from a combination phone, computer, calendar, camera that my grandmother, whom I not only remember the feel of her skinny hands but her voice, never saw, couldn’t have imagined. I have pictures of the living and dead on this palm sized object. I have not one but several of my published works saved on it.

Consider this.

I brought this up in a class at Columbia, the 21st century has afforded us the ability to leave our bodies. Our consciousness is no longer singularly trapped to our physical presence. Right this writing moment, in this space and time I am in a building in Manhattan but I am also on your screen yet I am also in Quoras servers. If you Google my name videos of me will appear from YouTube, blogs, books, tweets, TV shows....I am no longer a singular locality, my consciousness is, in a limited, recorded form, dispersed not only across the planet but for the past nine years, the TV show has also released me, my thoughts, into space.

That's all occurred within the lifetime of someone still alive, that was invented accessed in the span of some living humans lifetime right now. I write this alive but as you read this I could be dead. This digital missive will outlive me surely. Yet in two hundred years someone will be able to data mine me, perhaps the totality on a palm sized drive----I've written thousands of articles, books, videos, filmed TV shows and from that and the journals I have---reconstruct a pretty good simulacra of me. You could Google me now and see my self in a hundred ways. You can recreate me. You will be able to recreate me. We are putting so much of ourselves into this “cyberspace”, what if we started collecting it all? Assembling it?

Is it so hard to believe then that our minds are doing a similar process?
We've trivialized dreams because we lack the language and technology to access them.
Just as we did birds, flying, the sky.
And space travel.
And the device you're looking at.

My mother died twice in front of me. The first time I gave her CPR aid and she revived but a week later it happened again. The day before I was upset at all the challenges of caring for a terminal person and in a very detached way she told me she wanted to die. That last week, she refused to eat, much to my chagrin. In retrospect now I can see intent to die on her part. I can see how it was me holding her here. So she dies, the second time, despite my CPR and a whole hour of valiant medical triage on the living room floor by the emts and fire fighters. They had to pull one guy off because he refused to give up. Finally I called it and she and this wave of folk leave. I collapse in tears for a nap, a rest.

My mother comes to me through a forest next to like a marble gazebo and hugs me, thanks me then she shows me relatives who helped her truly in life.
I wake up and it's a few hours later and I think ok, wow.

Then in grief again a few days later in reaching up for her, I want to go through the wall-ceiling with her. She's in another place, a heavier...its the only word to describe it....place and she's OK but she's like she's not where I'm at but I'm trying to come across. I have to choose. I slip down a chasm, like a valley with a riverbed and high mountain walls and crawl back up on to this side where ironically there are books, computers, representations of my work but across the chasm is her, another place.

Weeks later on a street corner in what I first think is just a dream, my dead cousin, who was like a sister comes to me and says as she leads me into a building, that my mother is OK, its just another place. In the building, there are windows, I climb through one.

I am in a place of perpetual night. Its heavy but it's literally a bridge. On 135th and Broadway in Manhattan, the subway has come up above ground for ten blocks then goes back underground and my mentor is standing there and she starts talking to me about this other place. She was a huge bebop jazz fan and she's trying to explain---in get this —- light flashes, music snippets and language that this is the bridge, that the " inimical is inverted".

Not only was she a wordsmith, she was a writer but she was a very powerful person spiritually.

My aunt is at the top of a spiral staircase. By now these visitations have been going on for years. On the staircase, is her son, a level below, a ne'er do well, permanent criminal convict but next to me is a little girl. It’s heavy again, the heaviness is how I can tell the difference. My aunt says her son is able to discern this but drugs and mental imbalance mess him up from understanding this. I sarcastically say he's a Pisces. But who's the girl? The girl turns to me because she can discern our conversation and I realize she's his daughter, who I knew existed but was only baby. This girl is maybe nine. We have never met, only the previous dead cousin, his sister, knows her. My aunt is both cousins mother. My aunt says the little girl can see and hear us too. I look around and this metal spiral staircase is in a building but unattached to it.

I'm in an apartment. I go through several rooms and my grandmother is in the living room as the front door opens and my aunt comes in. My grandmother is like he's here again, he keeps coming here. My aunt is slightly frustrated. I go into another room.

I'm walking down a street in Manhattan, I'm older than now, maybe my 70s and I look up. Something pushes planes back and up to a 90 degree angle. What I mean is if you put out your hand level and the raise it up. I'm watching this.

Several years later again I'm in a heavy dream-vision and the airplanes are flipped back by a force. Not an explosion that's visible but there are damaged buildings. I help people out of the buildings. There are refugee camps set up in parks. I realize I am me---I have no better way to explain it, its like if you're in a store and remember to get eggs when you'd been reminding yourself all day.

Suddenly I am Kyle....TOO. Its like I'm piggybacking onto this body, consciousness. I immediately recognize he's not me but I'm present, not the absolute driver but like a drivers ed teacher in the passenger seat with another set of controls. I'm afraid to push my luck for control but I can feel a little bit of give. I think maybe if I can get him to look at a reflection, a glass surface I can see the face. We/I go into an underground mall area---things are futuristic but not too far. Everything looks sleek and rounded edges like an IPAD. More lights but nothing incredible other than whatever disaster triggered the—-wave?—-I don’t know what to call that which pushed things back, like tsunami pressure wave but invisible. Of destruction.

I finally get him to look at a glass pane----now he looks completely different but similar in coloring. It never occurred to me that I was in another "when" not just "another" place.

He looks faintly like an older child or grandchild of me genetically. He resembles me, removed. mixed slightly. Descendant? Now I'm like the sleeker architecture makes sense, I originally thought I was in another city because the parks looked like San Francisco or maybe Midwestern. I gently steer him to try to see a magazine or newspaper for the date. But I can't see any print magazines, in fact there are scraps of refuse, garbage but not printed stuff because there’s less paper used in the way I’m used to, finally on a train platform, I see that periodicals are tablets and large screens.
But the year is 2212.

This is a handful of experiences of maybe a dozen where I've had conversations with dead folk and they're not dead as we conceive death which has subsequently changed my perception of death.

What do I believe?
I think you, wherever you are exist just as I exist right now, afternoon, Sunday, Manhattan.

But maybe as you read this it is not afternoon, nor Sunday, nor Manhattan, nor 2017. But we are still accessing, bridged by this technology, my phone. In a way, my phone is akin to a wormhole on a very basic level.

Now imagine you sent me a direct message/text from Your Whenever/Wherever as soon as I hit submit. From Australia, where you are. And that message reaches me now, through time and space.
What if my cellphone and your laptop are the technological equivalent of the concept we call Death?
What if some connections are through Quora, some Yahoo, some Gmail?

Quora is Death.
Yahoo is Time..
Gmail is Time and Space. .

Now take it a virtual-spiritual step further.
Every platform in cyberspace that can send a message to another or a text is a parallel universe or other place.
The landline phone here in the office just rang. I stopped typing and answered it. No one on the other end.
What if that missed, dropped erroneously call is analogous to me calling or being called, connected to my dead relatives and, the little girl, my 2nd cousin, living, relatives. A short accidental, occidental, brief, erratic call that doesn't sustain?

What if that’s a call from me in the future singling at that exact moment that I’m writing this that I’m right! What if you couldn’t contact yourself for longer than a second or two? How would you confirm to yourself anything. A phone call as you’re hypothesizing maybe?

I think like most things humanity is sorta right. May hap we don't know time travel because we see it as a vertical time travel. What if time is horizontal or spherical? What if we don’t travel outwardly but inwardly?

We're with our nose to the pavement trying to follow time to the next point and the future and the past are like bubbles floating around us.

I know dreams vs visions and others. We are on an elevator that moves sideways and diagonally. How does your cell or Wi-Fi signal travel, in a straight line? No.
We've discovered space, time and space-time but we still have no concrete idea what those things are.

What is Time? Not what we clock measure but this force that changes, ages, decays, slows, hastens the physical world?

What deeply concerns me or worse suggests to me a limitation in understanding or perceiving something different, are the rigidly narrow Quora answers. That biology and physics don't meet and perhaps mesh. Like biology and mechanics....oh wait there are prosthetics and drugs from chemistry and drugs from nature and we're composed of matter from space.

True science and innovation comes from not a firm No but How could and What if and Believing before seeing.

Massive intellectual dismissal of the so far unknown and spouting of singularity rules and not a more scientific inquiring mind.

Just because we don't know doesn't mean we know it is not.

A scientist can be just as close minded as a religious person spouting Earth age based on rhetoric or because they say so.

I was saddened to see how little curiosity exploration and genuine marvel at the synthesis of the universe was laid out here. As an aside, perhaps it is my Native and African culture ontological and epistemology plus axiology, that allow me to think bigger than just proven science as I know 100-150 years ago most of our current biological interactive forms with technology didn't exist.

Food for thought and thought for food.