How to Be Human in a Quantum Universe -11/5/25

I don’t think there’s a single person in the world who hasn’t pondered what the meaning of life is, what their purpose might be, or where we truly fit in the universe. 

I wonder how many billions of people throughout history have exhausted themselves chasing those questions, while others have lived contentedly without ever asking them. These days, you can find the answer to almost anything with a few keystrokes on your phone or computer—except, of course, that answer. The big one. You’ll find plenty of speculation, though. 

In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams famously wrote that the answer to life, the universe, and everything is “42.” What the actual question was, however, remained elusive. 

In 1921, painter and author Walter Russell (1871–1963) slipped into a 39-day “coma.” When he woke, he claimed he’d been shown the inner workings of the universe. He proposed that matter is compressed light, and that consciousness is the underlying fabric of reality—shaped by thought itself. His ideas were dismissed at the time, but many of them are now being revisited and are being studied further. 

Russell even reimagined the periodic table. Instead of arranging elements by the number of protons in their nuclei, as Mendeleev had done in 1869, he organized them into concentric spirals based on their relationships to light and sound frequencies. 

Around the same time, clairvoyant Edgar Cayce (1877–1945) gave over 14,000 readings on topics ranging from health to reincarnation to prophecy. Many of his predictions proved uncannily accurate. It makes you wonder—how could anyone possibly know such things? 

What we currently understand about atoms, molecules, quantum physics, and theories like the multiverse , teleportation, or even time folding in on itself—all of it might just be the tip of an unfathomably large iceberg. 

The closer you move to the speed of light, the slower time becomes. Photons—the very particles of light—don’t experience time at all. Beyond that limit, physicists have theorized the existence of tachyons, particles that move faster than light and travel backward in time. These haven’t been proven, but then again, many subatomic particles were once only theories too. 

The more science uncovers about the universe, the clearer it becomes that observation itself—the act of being aware—changes what we see. Maybe that’s the thread linking quantum mechanics and our own sense of purpose: consciousness isn’t just part of the universe; it actively participates in it. 

Monks seem to think so. They devote their lives to doing no harm, to finding peace through stillness and compassion. How do they know that’s the right path? Maybe they don’t—but maybe it feels closest to truth. 

These are the thoughts that drift through my mind as I walk down our dirt road alone. Sometimes being lost in thought is good—it gives you space to wonder. But it can also be frustrating, because the answers never quite arrive. 

When I was a kid, I’d often stare up at the stars, imagining what was really out there. Every religion has its own version of what’s right and wrong, what comes after, how to live, and what happens if you don’t. But I’ve never been comfortable letting others define that for me. Too many times throughout history, “holy truth” has been used as justification for unholy acts—wars, crusades, terrorism, torture, sacrifice. Humanity’s search for meaning has often been bloodstained. 

So where does that leave us? 

Maybe it’s simpler than we think. Maybe doing what matters to us isn’t egocentric at all—it’s essential. Taking care of ourselves, being a good parent, striving for kindness, seeking calm instead of chaos—these small choices might be the truest expression of purpose we have. 

Perhaps meaning isn’t found in cosmic revelations or divine instructions, but in the quiet act of living well. Maybe it’s found in lowering your stress, loving your family, creating something beautiful, and walking down a dirt road under the stars—curious, uncertain, and wonderfully alive.