There’s a certain sense of relief associated with the idea that our whole universe is nothing more than a hologram projected from a massive 2-dimensional surface. This has been speculated about for some time, but the concept was supported with new data from a German experiment studying gravity, as reported recently by “New Scientist” online.
What that means is that we are, for all intents and purposes, composed of information. Data. And all our info is encoded in the light at the edge of the universe and projected back through space and time — a condition I’m willing to wager means we never cease to exist. All that we are, ever were, or will be is saved in the cosmic data stream.
What that has to do with belly dancing may not be clear at first glance, but follow me here.
I was a guest of the Unitarian Universalist Church last week, and read a short story likening quantum physics to the art of crochet. (Ask a woman who crochets about chaos theory; she’ll show you her tangled skeins.) Other guests showed off artwork or rug weaving, played jazz piano or read poetry. One group performed a series of belly dances, including a snake dance that sent at least one member of the audience looking for the back door. (See photos of the event here, and watch video of the event here.)
In the midst of reflection, as I sought the invisible connections between all these people and their creative interests in an earlier effort to write this column, I ran across the news above.
The funny thing about holograms is this: All the information that makes up the image is contained in its components; a hologram can be broken into smaller sections and the original image can still be seen from each small piece. (The smaller the segment, however, the less perspective can be achieved in viewing the image.)
So this means that, in a holographic reality, each of us carries within us the whole of the universe — though the view is limited. By extension, our expressions of creativity carry within them an abiding view of the whole of our beings.
It’s a truth with which most artists were already familiar, whether they’re writers, painters, weavers, musicians — or a dancer with jewel in her belly button or a snake on her head.
In the end, it’s more than just navel gazing. Who you are and what you do reflects the universe.
Peace.
