This is one of the universal constants of nature, and relates the energy of a single quantum of radiation to its frequency. It is central to quantum theory and appears in many important formulae, including the Schrödinger Equation.
It’s weird, right? I mean, it’s like I have my memories, but they’re not my memories. Or are they?
I was just one of many people that recently jumped timelines within the past year thanks to a group of physicists.
The more I thought about the process and the outcome, the more questions I had.
About a year ago, my husband and I decided to jump timelines. Truth be told, we both thought the idea was ludacris: him more than me, yet we signed up for the research study anyway. We mostly did it to prove the other one wrong but also with the hope of a better life. It’s not like our lives were bad. No, it was actually pretty darn good. We made a comfortable income, had friends who really cared, and were successful in our own right.
But there were things we didn’t have. We had been married for a long time and had yet to conceive a child. To be a mother had been my dream for as long as I could remember, although some of those memories are fuzzy now. We also just wanted better for ourselves. There were so many places we wanted to visit and causes we wanted to support and family members that needed our help, but it just wasn’t possible - not then at least.
What’s odd about quantum jumping is that there’s not a machine you hop into or a chant you do. It just sort of… happens. That doesn’t mean we didn’t try all sorts of things.
I remember the night we first talked about timeline jumping. This memory was burned into my brain, unlike so many others…
“I don’t know why you follow those people,” my husband smarted off as he looked at my computer screen.
I was sitting in the living room, aimlessly scrolling through social media post after social media post while I streamed a familiar show.
“You can’t jump timelines or any of that crap their spouting,” he spat as if the idea was a personal insult. “I think most of them just like to hear themselves talk.”
You see, my husband is a no-nonsense sort of guy. He likes facts and figures, not theories and concepts.
“While I agree that some of them regurgitate info to make themselves seem more important, some of what they say is actually based on science.”
“Sure,” he said through pursed lips.
“I mean, can you tell me for certain whether or not we’ve ever jumped timelines?” I asked curiously, but he no longer wanted to entertain the conversation, so he scoffed and walked off. I’m sure there was an eye roll in there somewhere.
As if my computer was listening, an ad appeared. It read: “Participants needed: University researchers require participants for quantum physics research study, involving the multiple timeline theory.”
After a few questions about this, that, and the other, we were signed up.
Before we knew it, we were in a cold room, surrounded by a team of researchers. The hum of computers and gadgets echoed in the silent room. Absentmindedly, I played with my auburn, curly hair and looked at my husband, a stocky, charismatic man in his mid-thirties. He was sat next to me in a metal chair.
“Once this plan is set in motion, there’s no going back. You understand that, right?” Said a slender, official-looking man that was easily a foot taller than me.
We both nodded in agreement.
“Great. Just sign here.”
“So, how do we actually go about timeline jumping timelines?”
“That’s all part of the study,” he informed us.
For weeks, nothing happened. We tried some of the more esoteric theories on how to quantum jump, like the ones that my social media acquaintances claimed to know how to do. When those didn’t work, we were put through scientific test after scientific test. After every experiment, came a series of questions and medical tests. They also hooked us up to just about every machine known to man.
In one of the meetings with the researchers, my husband had remarked, “I thought y’all knew more about all this. Shouldn’t we have jumped already?”
A squat, stubbly haired man with skin of warm mocha swiveled in his chair to face us. He addressed us in his deep voice, “Nobody said this was going to be easy. We’re trying to do something that’s never been done. The simple fact that we are observing you two attempting to quantum jump could, in fact, be causing an interference.”
After two months, our lives had improved. We were healthier, happier, and wealthier, but we still felt like we were on the same timeline we had always been on, but how do you ever really know?
It took us a while to realize that somewhere along the way, we had, in fact, jumped timelines. As our lives changed for the better, we wanted more… more of everything. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but we became greedy - not greedy in the sense of wanting more and more money but greedy in the sense that we came to expect getting what we desired and quickly too.
What clued us in were all the little differences in the things around us, like cereal commercials that never happened or company names that were slightly different. Our own memories were fuzzy when it came to certain topics and moments in our pasts. As we questioned our friends and family, we realized that many of them remembered situations very differently. But there were a few that retained similar memories as to the ones we had. It made me wonder if they had jumped too or if we had brought them with us.
Either way, we could no longer deny the fact that we were on a new timeline. At the heart of it all, once we had fully committed to making the jump, we made it.
My question to you is this: would you take the plunge.