Category: Psychology

My Thoughts on “What If the Universe Remembers Everything?”

Bright spiral galaxy with radiant interconnected star-like structures and distant galaxies in a star-filled cosmic background

I recently watched The Why Files video titled “What If the Universe Remembers Everything?” AJ explores the idea that nature might have some built-in memory, that the universe isn’t just random matter following strict mechanical laws, but something that actually remembers past patterns.

The video got me thinking, so I wanted to share my personal thoughts.

Starting with the Big Questions

Science is very good at explaining how things work. It can tell us how genes carry information, how embryos develop into complex babies, and how animals know how to do things they’ve never been taught (what we call instincts).

But when you look closer, the explanations often feel incomplete. How does a single cell “know” how to become a full human being with eyes, ears, and a beating heart in exactly the right places? How does a third generation of rats seem to know something the first generation learned? Why isn’t everything just chaos and random mutations?

This is where the video introduces ideas like morphic resonance, proposed by biologist Rupert Sheldrake. The basic idea is that similar things in nature influence each other across time and space. Once a pattern has happened many times, whether it’s a crystal shape or an animal behavior, it becomes easier for that same pattern to appear again. It’s almost like nature has a memory or habit.

Related ideas include archetypes (deep, shared patterns in human psychology described by Carl Jung) and epigenetics (how experiences can influence which genes turn on or off and sometimes pass that influence to future generations).

My Personal View

To me, all of these ideas, morphic fields, instincts, epigenetics, and new theories about the universe having memory, feel like different ways of pointing toward the same deeper reality.

I believe the simplest and most complete explanation is this: God is the foundation of everything. As the “Uncaused Cause” described by Thomas Aquinas, and what theologian Paul Tillich called the “Ground of All Being,” God is the One who holds all of reality together. As Colossians 1:17 says, “In Him all things hold together.”

God sustains every atom, every law of physics, the visible matter we understand, and the mysterious dark matter and dark energy that make up most of the universe.

In this view, the “memory” the universe seems to carry is not separate from God. It is part of how God sustains creation and gives it order, pattern, and stability. Science is simply discovering how God does what He does. But the ultimate answer to “Why?” is God.

What This Means for How We Live

Logic Statement:

Premise: If God is the Foundation and Creator of all things,

Then: Every single human life is inherently sacred.

That means no person’s life is worth less than another’s, even if they think differently, look different, or come from a different background.

I believe if the majority of humanity truly accepted that God is the Creator and that life is sacred, we would make much better decisions as a society. We would be slower to hate, slower to harm, and quicker to protect the innocent.

Of course, even with this belief, humans are still imperfect. We still wrestle with hard questions: When is it right to defend life with force? How do we protect the vulnerable without becoming violent ourselves? These tensions don’t disappear. But starting from the belief that God is real and life is sacred gives us a much healthier foundation.

Final Thoughts

I’m just a regular person trying to make sense of the world. AJ is just a guy who talks to a fish. Videos like this one are valuable because they push us to ask bigger questions rather than stay stuck in purely materialist answers.

Whether through science, philosophy, or personal seeking, I believe that if we honestly search for truth, God will meet us where we are. We don’t need a perfect understanding first.

I’d love to hear what you think after watching the video.

0

Spring’s Whisper: Why Our Souls Ache for Renewal Each Winter

Ah, friends, can you feel it? That subtle shift in the air, the way the wind carries a hint of warmth instead of a bite? Here in the Outer Banks, where the ocean meets the dunes in eternal conversation, spring is tiptoeing in like a long-lost friend. The crocuses are poking their heads through the sandy soil, and the birds are tuning up their symphony as if they’ve been practicing all winter. It’s finally here—Spring!—and oh, how I’ve ached for it through those gray, relentless months.

Winter has its own quiet beauty, doesn’t it? The stark branches against a steel sky, the hush of snow (or in our case, the rare frost on the beach grass), forcing us inward to reflect and rest. But let’s be honest: by February, that ache sets in. It’s not just the cold seeping into our bones; it’s a deeper longing, a soul-stirring yearning for something fresh, something alive. Why do we pine for spring every year? I think it’s because we’re wired for renewal. Winter strips us bare—exposes our vulnerabilities, our weariness—and in that barrenness, we crave the promise of growth. It’s like our hearts are echoing the earth’s cycle, reminding us that endings aren’t forever; they’re just preludes to beginnings.

This brings me to one of my favorite verses, tucked away in Lamentations 3:22-23: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” New every morning. Isn’t that a balm for the winter-weary soul? Just as the sun rises without fail, painting the horizon in pinks and golds, God’s grace resets with each dawn. No grudges from yesterday’s stumbles, no exhaustion from the long night—pure, unearned freshness. And spring? It’s like God amplifying that truth across the landscape. The seasons themselves are His gentle touch, a rhythmic reminder that life isn’t static. Winter teaches us endurance, autumn whispers of letting go, summer invites abundance, but spring—spring shouts resurrection.

Think about it: those first green shoots pushing through frozen ground, the blossoms unfurling like prayers answered. It’s God’s way of saying, “See? I make all things new.” In the grind of daily life, we might forget His presence, but the seasons won’t let us. They’re His fingerprints on creation, touching us with hope when we need it most. That ache in winter isn’t despair; it’s anticipation, a holy hunger for the divine renewal that’s always coming.

So, as we step into this season, let’s lean into it. Walk barefoot on the warming sand, plant a seed or two, and let the newness soak in. What mercy are you claiming today? What winter weight are you shedding? Ponder with me, dear readers—spring is here, and with it, God’s faithful touch. Great is His faithfulness, indeed.

0

Getting my ducks in a row

Today I woke up and actually felt it: “Okay, Christine, time to get my ducks in a row.” You know that phrase? The one that pops up when life’s chaos finally hits a tipping point, and you’re like, ” Nope, we’re organizing now or ” We’re doomed.

So what’s the deal with ducks? I did a quick dive because my brain wouldn’t let it go. Turns out, no one really knows for sure where “getting your ducks in a row” came from. It’s murky, like most good idioms. Some say it’s from old carnival shooting galleries where you lined up those little metal ducks to knock ’em down—everything neat, predictable, ready to blast. Others point to bowling (duckpins, those short, fat pins set up in tidy rows). But it’s probably from watching mama duck waddling along with her babies trailing in perfect formation, no stragglers, no drama.

Me? I like the mama duck version best. Because right now my life feels more like a bunch of rogue ducklings scattering in every direction—bills, emails, that half-finished project glaring at me, the laundry pile that’s achieving sentience. But today? Today I’m channeling the mama duck energy. I made lists. Actual lists. On paper. With checkboxes. I even crossed one off just to feel powerful.

It’s not glamorous. No big life overhaul. Just tiny alignments: start on taxes, scheduled the dentist (ugh), finally replied to those texts I’ve been ghosting. Ducks. In A. Row.

Feels good, though. Like I can breathe a little deeper. Maybe tomorrow they’ll scatter again—who knows?—but for now, I’ve got this little parade going.

Anyone else out there getting their ducks in formation today? Or are your ducks more like pigeons, flipping the bird at organization? Drop a comment if you’re feeling the row vibes.

Quack on,

0

Good Grief.

I’ve moved through my storm of anger. It burned hot, it felt righteous, it gave me the energy to rail against the injustice, the confusion, and the horrible loss of Charlie Kirk. But anger—left unchecked—will eat you alive. So often, anger is a mask for what lies beneath: fear, helplessness, grief.

But here’s the truth: We are not helpless. We do not need to fear. We are grieving.

Paul reminds us: “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger” (Ephesians 4:26). Anger is a signal from God and in His wisdom He warns us not to camp there.

In time, we will each move toward acceptance. Not resignation—acceptance. Acceptance is freedom. Jesus modeled this in Gethsemane when He prayed, “Not my will, but Yours be done” (Luke 22:42). That was not passive surrender. It was the hardest acceptance imaginable.

So if you’re caught in anger right now, let yourself name it. Feel it. Then ask: What lies beneath? Fear? Loss? Grief? When we bring those roots into the light, we are already stepping toward acceptance. And in acceptance, we find room to breathe, room to forgive, room to heal—and the strength to move forward.

That’s how we carry on the work Charlie started; and like Charlie, we follow the call of Jesus.

0

My Brain’s New Tenant

Recently my mornings feel like I spent the night front row at a rock concert with several shots of tequila. I promise you, I have not. And yet my brain hurts just the same.

Meet the newest thing in my life: Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension (IIH). I swear they make this stuff up. Basically, it means: “We don’t know why, but your brain is building up too much pressure inside your skull.”

Let me try to explain how it feels: it’s as if a hormonal teenager moved into my head and is blasting vintage Metallica. Or, you know, that piercing sound that makes all moms wince—a toddler having a tantrum in a store aisle. That’s the feeling.

I didn’t invite this monster into my skull, but here IIH is. It’s absurd. And since crying only makes it hurt more, I’ll laugh. No angry teen or bratty toddler is going to break my will. I’ll fight, I’ll live, and I’ll keep laughing in the face of pain—because wit and chutzpah can outsmart anything life throws my way.

Remember: “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1)

0

Some days, the best we can do is simply exist.

The to-do lists sit untouched, conversations feel too costly, and the world seems to demand more than we can give.

But still, we breathe.
Still, we are here.
Still, the sun moves across the sky—slowly, faithfully—whether we watch it or not.

Maybe the work of today isn’t accomplishing or producing.
Maybe it’s letting the soul rest, trusting that rest itself is holy.
Even the earth has its seasons of stillness before the green returns.

So if today feels like too much, remember: you are not failing for needing a pause.
You are simply honoring the truth that even the strongest hearts need quiet to keep beating.

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28
Today, let’s lay down the weight we’re carrying and lean into the arms of the One who never grows weary.

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑