A String Theory

I spent this morning googling information on string theory. Why? I honestly couldn’t tell you. I like learning about things that make my brain hurt.

I’ve always been intrigued by the way stream of consciousness works, especially mine. A thought linking from one idea to the next. In one second, I’m clicking link after link about quarks and hadrons and the Standard Model of particle physics, and the next second I’m considering the fact that the farther inward (for lack of a more scientific term) scientists delve, the smaller and smaller the particles that are discovered. I wondered how tiny will the particles be if they ever find an end, or will there ever be an end? The same principle applies to space travel. No matter where we go, up and out or down and in, it’s never ending. A perpetual expansion and compression.

My mind blanked out. Somehow I had gotten to the Invictus Writers page, skimming through various past essays that I had already read times over.

There were little things within these essays, things that would almost be invisible to another human being. Old records, small glances, a line in a book. The momentous points in our lives are made up of the smallest things. These infinitesimal anchors that explode a ripple effect through the progression of our entire being. We expand, and yet implode upon these points.

I thought about the outline of my story. I tried to draw a mental line through the “scenes.” It’s our task to write about these moments, let them flesh themselves out, unfurling like a drop of ink or blood in water. And then perhaps someone somewhere will read them and say, “I understand completely.” Another anchor point.

String theory is a scientific hypothesis for what they call “the theory of everything,” meaning it has the potential to explain why everything that makes up our reality is the way it is. I’m not going to pretend that I understand even half of the things that quantum physics involves, just like I’m not going to pretend that I understand half the things that happen in my day to day life. But I saw poetry in the “theory of everything.” The hope that there is a thread that connects it all.

It’s natural for us to yearn for this thread, almost cliched even. Because the alternative is that things happen in chaos and have no meaning. To pull the thread, means unravelling a reality. It’s what I’ve been feeling while trying to sort through my outline. It’s almost too hot to touch. But when the thread unravels, you still have material to create something new. A constantly transforming string.