The second essay on my newly reconstituted Dust in the Light observes that journalists, local activists, and all of us trying to go about our lives are making it clear that we really do live in different universes:
I don’t intend, here, to express an opinion on the hot debate of the day (to loosen or not to loosen), but only to note the different perspectives. A stroll in the woods feels very differently when you know those little black bugs aren’t just a hassle to pick off, but might give you Lyme disease.
And so, we live in different worlds, again. For some, the world is defined by dread of a disease. For others, the dread is of a collapsed economy and lost freedom. Some will experience an involuntary escalation of their anxiety when they hear about the possibility that the lockdown might soon end. Others have similar anxiety when the state’s governor promotes a poster with a socialist motif that puts chains around Rhode Island’s “hope.”
We live in different worlds. Literally. In a quantum physics kind of a way that ties with how we observe the world and understand it.
In the essay, I propose that we store and utilize information in three separate modes (direct information, emotion, abstraction) and three separate locations (correspondingly: the brain, our bio-chemical systems, and the world around us). To make the world a better place, we must lead the way in making redemption seem possible.