“If only I had more time,” I say. That’s my new mantra. I grumble it as I leave the house to take my daughter to school or stop at the drug store or run to the post office. Usually, I’m dressed in old sweats and flip-flops, no makeup on and my hair looking like a discarded bird’s nest. If I had a clone, I could catch up on some z’s, and I wouldn’t have to leave the house without a shower.
In my fantasy, I send the clone to the day job and spend the afternoon writing my next novel at Starbucks over a chai tea latte. I’m also 30 pounds lighter and I’m eating a cinnamon roll. (Hey, if I’m going to fantasize, I might as well make it good, right?)
Anyway, in case you are wondering, I do know no one can really be in two places at the same time. I have not totally lost it (yet).
But recently, I got to thinking about this. And then I started googling, and the more I learned, the more I began to wonder….
Law of quantum physics
Scientists say it is possible to be in two places at once — if you are a subatomic particle. You see, in the world of quantum physics, which operates on a different principle than our reality, a tiny object is neither a particle, nor a wave. It is in a constant state of flux and therefore, is a bit of both depending on how it is viewed. This means it can be moving or still simultaneously. In other words, it can take two different paths at the same time. (I sound intelligent, don’t I? Thank you, Wikipedia).
Of course this does not apply in our reality — the real world, so to speak. We can’t be in two places at once…can we?
According to many, Padre Pio could do it. This modern day Catholic saint, who died in 1968, was widely known to have the ability to bilocate or be in two places at the same time. Many witnesses have come forward to confirm this claim. Of course, skeptics say Padre Pio was a fraud. He also suffered from the stigmata — the wounds of Jesus Christ — and was accused of using carbolic acid to create the wounds.
And yet…here I go again diving into something I never thought I would ever write about in a blog post — I have had the experience of being in two places at the same time. My mind, not my body. Let me explain.
I am 19 and home from college for the summer. I am getting ready to go to church, a forced commandment in my parent’s home, no matter how disinterested I am at the time. My younger sister is getting ready to go on a date with a new boy. “No fair,” I think. “Why does she get to go on a date, while I’m stuck in church.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting my private pity party, and my sister begs me to get the door so she can continue to prep. I do and am surprised by the boy who is standing there — he’s quite cute — clean-shaven, blond hair and in blue jeans. I’m surprised because my sister’s choices in men are generally more rough around the edges than mine — usually a few tattoos and earrings. This boy looks like someone I might choose.
“Take a seat,” I say, gesturing to a chair in the kitchen. “She’ll be right down.”
I take off back up the stairs so I can finish blow-drying my hair. On the way up, I exchange a few words with my sis.
“Hey, he’s in blue jeans. You’d better change from that fancy dress to something more casual.”
My sister is in panic mode. “We’re going to a movie, and we’re already late. There’s no time,” she tells me, flying down the stairs.”
“Have fun,” I call after her.
And that, readers, is when the magic happened.
Two places at once
You see, I was still blow drying my hair. My mind, however? Well, my mind was curious. It was busy wondering what my sister’s hot date was thinking when he saw how dressed up she was. So, it took off down the stairs after her.
Many hours later, my sister walked through the door, blathering on about her incredible date.
“Do you think he likes me?” she asked.
“Yes, I do,” I told her. “Didn’t you see his face when you came downstairs?”
“No, how did he look?”
“He looked really happy to see you.”
I went on to describe other details. We must have talked for an hour before I arrived at a shocking realization. How could I possibly know what his face looked like or any other details when my sister came downstairs? I hadn’t been downstairs when they left. I had been upstairs blow-drying my hair.
The realization hit both of us at once, and we stared across the bedroom, our startled faces mirroring one another.
“How can that be?” she asked. “I swear I felt your hand on my shoulder as I went downstairs.”
“I know,” I say. “I remember following you downstairs. That’s how I saw what he looked like. I was right behind you.”
“But you weren’t,” she said.
“No, I wasn’t. I never went downstairs. It’s…impossible.”
That night I pondered the mystery. Years later, I am still pondering. My body never left the upstairs. But somehow, my mind did.
Maybe it has something to do with those subatomic particles?