“But that’s exactly it,” the professor said, “everything is possible. As soon as one thing is possible, every other possibility connected to it is not only possible, but probable, most likely existing on some other plane, some alternate reality that we don’t yet have access too.”

“But how is that possible?”



The professor shrugged. “That’s just how reality works, once one outcome is exists, all other outcomes also exist. Only they can’t exist in the same reality, that would be too chaotic. So instead, alternate realities get created where that outcome can exist on it’s own. Each reality lives a frequency above, or below, our current reality.”

“So, let’s say in this reality, my car spins out of control and I hit a tree. You’re telling me that there’s another reality where, say, the tree falls on my car instead?”

His face lit up. He turned toward the chalkboard and grabbed the chalk. He drew a car with a tree on top of it in the center of the board.“Precisely. And yet still, there’s another reality where you hit the tree intentionally. Or, where someone else’s car hit the tree and the tree fell on your car.” An arrow flew up from the original point, creating a new bubble of information. “Or where you hit someone else, who hit the tree, causing it to hit your car.” Then he drew another arrow and another bubble, and yet another, and another, all spinning off from the central idea, no other arrow or idea quite touching another. “And it goes on and on from there. The more complex the idea, the more realities it may have.”

“But then what’s this about frequencies?”

“Ahh, yes,” he paused, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his chalk stained finger. “As I was saying, all of these realities cannot exist in the same space and time as another. See, once your car hits the tree, the tree is fallen. It can’t then jump up, reattach itself, be hit by a car and then fall on your car at the exact moment you originally hit the tree. If every outcome played out in the exact same timespace, well, it would be like looking at a glitch in a video game. The outcomes would inevitably stack up on top of one another, causing a delay in time. Multiply that across everyone, everything, and every outcome, well then the world wouldn’t really exist at all.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain —”

“Frequencies,” he interrupted, “Alternate realities are created and cannot coexist, so instead they exist just outside of one another. But how do you reach them? How do you access these different worlds? If you adjust the frequency of reality, you can access these alternate realities.”

“Access? How?”

“Well, in essence, you would become the you of that reality.”

“But aren’t you already the you of that reality? I mean, if this reality exists, and there’s another me, that’s the me of that reality. So, if I, from this reality, accessed another reality, why would I have anything to do with that reality? Wouldn’t it just turn off the light, so to speak, in this room and turn on the light in the other room? What or who would be doing the accessing?”

“What if there was a way for the you of here to access the you of there, but retain that knowledge? You could essentially jump from you to you to you, experiencing the vastness that is you along the way.”

“But what would be the purpose? Why would you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”