“So how do we do this? Time machine? Lightning bolts? Is this a Freaky Friday situation where my 11-year-old mind will inhabit my current body?”
Zephyr clapped his hands, laughing. “No, no. It’s plenty freaky, but you are only one consciousness and you can only be put in one form of yourself at one time. And no, we don’t need a TTD for this. This is all in the mind. All you have to do is pick up the needle.”
Jeremy groaned. “Awww, come on, man. Heroin? That’s where you’ve been going with this? As you can see, I’m willing to be experimental with a lot of drugs, but that one is not so experimental anymore. I mean, I’ve seen Trainspotting.”
Zephyr reached over and gently but firmly squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder, bringing him out of his spiral and back to the room. “Hey….hey….hey….no, dude. Just chill. I’m not talking about heroin. I mean the record needle. Pick up the record needle.”
Jeremy cocked his head to the side, straining to hear any music that might be playing in a six-block radius. “I don’t….is there..?” he asked, confused.
Zephyr sighed and rolled his eyes. “I really have to write down how I explain this,” he muttered to himself. “Ok, think of it this way. Time as we know it, from its very origins at the Big Bang, until the universe implodes in on itself and beyond…you with me? No, there’s no music. Just imagine time. The way we look at it. It’s one straight line with ‘before’ behind us, stretching all the way ‘back’, and the ‘future’ in front of us, stretching forward.”
“Yes, sure, linear time.”
“Right, but what if it’s not straight? Instead it’s coiled in a tight spiral, around and around like the grooves in a record –” Zephyr paused for a moment. “Silly question, but you know what records are, how they function, et cetera? Or are you one of these digital natives born and raised in the metaverse?”
“Ha ha hardly. I am well aware of how a record functions.”
Zephyr sighed with relief. “So there you go then. Your whole life – all of time, actually – wound tightly around a central axis. What you’re experiencing right now – this moment right here – is just where the needle happens to be. But all those other moments are still there – and not static, either. They’re still happening, whether it’s yesterday, five minutes ago, five eons ago or five eons from now.”
“Got it: everything that can happen / will happen / has happened.”
“Well, well. Someone’s done some reading!” Zephyr leaned back in his chair, looking pleasantly surprised. “Of course, picking up that needle is no easy feat. But knowing it can be done really is half the battle. The drugs help, too. So. Are you ready to pick up that needle?”
Jeremy paused and checked in with himself. He understood everything the old man had been telling him, and in fact agreed with the philosophy. But even with the psychedelics coursing through his veins, he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. Still, he was here. And he had come here because of a lifetime of bad decisions.
He was reminded of the old time Halloween parties he went to as a kid, where parents would try to scare the kids. He knew he was just touching peeled grapes and not eyeballs, but he still enjoyed the show. This felt like that. So why not see it through and find out what happens? See what kind of show Zephyr puts on for him?
“I guess…yeah,” said Jeremy. “Let’s see what happens next…or before. What do I need to do?”
“Do less, actually,” said Zephyr, his voice dropping a pitch. “Just sit back and breathe. Think back to a moment…it doesn’t have to be the exact second…just the general feeling you had for a time. Choose a happy time. Let the nostalgia flood over you…”
Jeremy did just that. He nestled himself deeper into the soft, comfy chair and succumbed to a feeling of floating.
Zephyr continued guiding him along. “Give in to that nostalgia…allow yourself to dissolve into its bliss… With every new breath in, your memory of a key moment will become microscopically clearer. With every breath out, feel your physical presence here melt away a little more.”
Floating in his easy chair, Jeremy fell into a gentle, rhythmic breathing. As he did so, he saw his perception gently tug him towards his past, slowly pulling him in the direction of a moment in time.
“Try not to consciously choose your moment,” continued Zephyr. “Enjoy the sensation, and withdraw your consciousness so that you are just a spectator along for a ride. Simply allow yourself to be drawn to the moment, and as you approach, it will become clearer.”
Jeremy rode a wave of giddiness, a silent smile stretched across his face. He felt the years slipping away, time narrowing in to an era, a year, a season. He struggled for a moment to focus and felt a wave of nausea. He squirmed ever so slightly in his seat.
Zephyr noticed and rushed to calm him. “It’s ok” he cooed. “Just let go. Feel yourself as a cloud in that moment and don’t try to steer the ship. Control will come to you again.”
Hearing those words, Jeremy’s breathing slowed once more and he settled into the increasing bliss he’d left behind a moment ago. Things felt odd, out of alignment, but he allowed himself to witness the feeling and let it pass.
After some time he felt his world start to congeal. The sensation changed, as if he was suddenly grasping a 3D image. His existence went from scattered mosaic to a clear image, as his consciousness locked in on a new state.
He rested there, maintaining his breathing, waiting to feel settled. He didn’t want to move too quickly and have his focus tumble back to chaos. Breathing in, breathing out. Breathing in, breathing out. In, out. In, out.
Then there came a moment when things felt stabilized. His focus was there without him low-key clinging to it. As he took a deep breath in he gently opened his eyes and slowly looked around.
The room had changed again, drastically this time. It was filled with white light, and Jeremy was laying horizontal on a bed. But as he tried to take in his new surroundings they were blurred and unfocused.
He panicked, but Zephyr was nowhere to be seen, and there was no one to guide him back to the moment. He floundered for a moment, lost in light and smells. He closed his eyes again, got his breathing under control, then re-opened his eyes. Still a bright yellow fog.
He felt himself sinking into a pit of despair. He rubbed his eyes and looked desperately around him for a landmark, anything that could make him feel whole again.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a sharper pattern. He turned his head to examine it in more detail: newsprint…sepia brown in color. A little on the nose for nostalgia, he thought. He squinted closer, focusing hard on it: a leaf pattern that intertwined with… robots?
His bedroom wallpaper from when he was a child.
With a burst of adrenaline, Jeremy sat up in bed. Gasping, he struggled to take in his surroundings, but still found everything foggy. Slowly it dawned on him that if he was back in his childhood bedroom – his childhood body even – then he was still decades away from laser eye surgery. He fumbled around the edge of his bed and found his glasses, hesitated for a moment, then put them on.
He almost cried as the world snapped into focus. Everything – everything – absolutely reeked of nostalgia. Even things of the utmost minutia, like socks and blankets, caused a surge of electricity that put his heart on edge.
He feared the emotions would tear him out of “the moment” and drag him back to his former time, but everything held fast as he hopped down from the top bunk.