This little essay is an experiment in what we might want to call time travel. But the realm of ideas is actually quite independent of time.

Einstein left us with the idea that time is a lie. His actual words were reported to have been, "The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion." 

Ideas are timeless. The realm of ideas is (presumably) infinite. A train of thought is a path through this realm. Our personal reality is nothing more than a path through this realm.

A story, particularly a fictional story, is a path through this realm. This essay is a path through such a realm. If you are reading this, you are on that path.

As I am writing this, I am exploring a path. Creating a path. I do this by allowing my awareness of a particular point in the realm of ideas to suggest to me another point, which I then try to capture. For myself. For you.

When I put this task aside, take a break from exploring this path, I am confident that I will be able to come back to it later. Where does that confidence come from? It is, clearly, nothing more than another point in the realm of ideas. One I believe I can return to.

We all have close associates in this realm, ones who are happy to share their ideas with us when they think they should, and whom we happily consult when we think we should. They are the fellow dreamers who help us run our lives.

All this sharing and consulting is very automatic for us, something we do without thinking. What we call second nature. It is how we create our shared reality. Our physical world. It all originates in the realm of ideas. It is our stubbornly persistent illusion.

While travelling in this realm I met a man of ideas who took me to see a spectacular range of mountains, with jagged peaks and twisted valleys. I mentioned that the view reminded me of some of the images of interstellar vistas produced by the Hubble and Webb space telescopes. He pointed out that those images too came from the realm of ideas, from otherwise meaningless radio signals filtered through the minds of the dreamers who operate telescopes. Amplified many times over by the minds of people who view them on computer screens.

As he spoke we arrived in a valley where a number of people were racing around in dune buggies, exploiting the convoluted terrain. I realized then that we too were operating just such a vehicle. From our new vantage point I observed that the mountains we were seeing had begun to look like some sort of grand antediluvian gravel pile.

I wondered what force had shaped it into the spectacular view we had seen earlier. My companion reminded me that this too existed in the realm of ideas, was shaped by ideas.

On waking I submitted this view to my associate mind and body entities. They all agreed that it described their reality well enough. Then reminded me that it was all pretty much beside the point of doing what it takes to get along in it.

Perhaps you agree?