Hopping

I slept in a treehouse this weekend. We took the kids to a remote location for some much needed family R&R. I expected to get in touch with nature. I expected some peace and quiet. What I didn't expect was to literally alter the course of reality...

There's this hippie who lives deep in the forest of the Green Mountains of Vermont. He built a couple of treehouses to rent out to folks who want to really get away from things for a bit. Things like timeclocks, schedules, deadlines and, well, the ground. Things like the sounds of traffic, alarms, News Channel 5 at eleven, and that dog down the street that never shuts up. Things like coworkers, clients, bosses, and over-talkative Q-Mart cashiers that can't wait to tell me their life story. Things like hot showers, electric stoves, flushing toilets, and cell service. We are about as far away from society as we can get without needing to wear a spacesuit.

We rented his treehouse compound for two nights. The kids described it as the best vacation ever. My wife simply called it peaceful. I think I'll call it life-changing.

There were two treehouses, a kitchen pavilion with a propane grill and a sink with gravity fed spring water, a firepit, an outhouse, and an unheated spring water outdoor shower. I didn't get adventurous enough to shower with cold spring water, though our hippie caretaker vowed it was far better at waking you up in the morning than any cup of Starbux could do.

There were several hammocks strung up between trees. I confess that I've never actually lied down in a hammock before now. Despite how tricky it was getting in and out of it, I found it quite relaxing. Like a soft hug.

The kids found they could use them as sideways swings, and tried to find how high they could go before flipping over and thumping to the ground with hilarity.

I discovered that, here, I could truly relax. No cell service meant no texts, calls, or emails from the outside world. We were separated from all of that. We were self contained, temporarily living in a magical protective bubble made up of the forest canopy. We were not only sheltered from the elements (not even much rain fell through, our natural ceiling was that thick), but we were sheltered from the rest of the universe. No social media, no Guugle, no GPS. We were free.

I took a long, deep breath as I came to this realization. And as I exhaled all the mental demons associated with the "outside", I felt a cleansing from my absolute center. My soul, if there is such a thing, was lighter here. It was as if, for the first time in forever, I felt truly relaxed.

The kids and I went for a walk to a nearby pond. We marveled at and alerted each other to various wonderful sights along the way. Pretty flowers, cool bugs, newts, frogs, a gnarly tree nearly as old as the Green Mountains themselves.

At one point I spotted a cluster of mushrooms. They seemed to be lined up as if in queue to get tickets at the theater. As I looked closer, I saw that it wasn't a line of mushrooms after all. It was a circle. A complete, oblong, yellow mushroom circle.

I had once heard of a phenomenon called a fairy ring. Supposedly, a group of fairies dance within the circle, using the mushrooms as seats to rest on when they grow tired. If a human were to step inside, they'd be compelled to dance as well. Under a spell, time flows differently inside the ring. When someone gets lost in a forest and doesn't return for years, fairy rings may be to blame.

I've had enough weird shit happen in my life to be wary of legends, so I didn't tempt fate. I stayed well beyond the confines of that yellow circle of mushrooms, whatever it truly may be.

We reached the pond. I looked into its murky depths and saw some tadpoles and pointed them out to the kids.

As my eyes lazily wandered about the small pool, I had a thought. Searching around my feet, I found a few suitable stones. I underhand tossed one to the center, only about a dozen feet from where we stood. The bloop sound was satisfying, but the ripples emanating from the spot it sunk in were downright mesmerizing! The three of us stared in silence as the ripples slowly spread all the way to the edges.

"Can I do one?" my youngest asked.

I smiled and handed him one of my stones. He tossed it in and I followed it with another. Now the ripples had two new sources, and the concentric circles were colliding, creating new more intricate designs on the pond's surface. This activity occupied us for a good 10 minutes before moving on.

Walking back to the treehouse, I found myself wondering when was the last time I went for a walk in the woods with no more purpose than to breathe and look and touch and smell and listen to the nature surrounding me? I vowed to myself that I would do this more often.

Yes, you should. This is good for you. It's nearly as good as meditation. Which, by the way, couldn't hurt you to learn.

What, meditation?

Yeah. It would help you find your center. Get more in touch with your inner self.

I hear voices in my head and I have conversations with them. How much more in touch with my inner self can I get?

You don't converse with me. You argue with me. There's a difference.

What's the point? You're just a voice in my head, created by my psyche. Why do I bother arguing with you? Why do I talk to you at all? Why should I listen to you?

Because one: I talk sense and you'd benefit from listening to me. And two: I'm not just a voice in your head, created by your psyche to torment you. I am so much more. I am here to help you!

Sounds like something you would say if you're trying to convince me you're real, which only shows how smart I am! And how sick I am. I need more psychiatric help than I'm getting. Maybe different meds...

Oh, I'm real. Just because I am disembodied, that doesn't make me any less real than you are.

You're my imagination. I can just turn you off.

Your imagination, huh?

Yup.

Can your imagination do this?

Suddenly, I stumbled.

What the...

Not what. Who.

You're just my twisted up brain!

My hand reached up and slapped my face.

Cut it out! I thought-shouted. This was scary! How the hell are you doing that?!

I stopped in the path and let the oblivious kids walk on up to the treehouses without me.

Listen. There is a lot going on that you don't understand. And there's a good reason for your ignorance. For the time being, anyway. But I'm going to drop some truth bombs on you in a second, so buckle up, buddy. Are you ready?

You are not really-

Shut up and listen to me! Can you do that?! For just one second?! Shut up, and listen.

Fine. I'll entertain this. Why not? I'm out here in the woods with nothing better to do anyway.

Good. That's better. Listen. I'm not... just... a voice in your head. I'm... you. Part of you, anyway. I split. I had to split myself to go in separate directions. But I had to leave enough of myself to continue along my original path as well. Your path. So I could return after I finished... um... after I finished.

Finished what?

Never mind that now. It's too complicated. You don't know enough yet. It wouldn't make any sense to you.

Then spell it out for me.

I'm trying! This stuff isn't easy to explain! They don't teach multidimensional travel in school, you know. They don't even know it exists!

Well, neither do I!

I know, I know. Ok. You know how things get weird when you have déjà vu?

Well, déjà vu is a bit weird, wouldn't you say?

Yeah, well, you don't know the half of it. But I do. Déjà vu isn't just a weird feeling you get. It's actually something you're doing. Something you've done subconsciously all your life. Only, not too long ago, I learned how to control it.

Control it? What do you mean control it?

I discovered how to use it purposefully, rather than just floating on the breeze of subconscious whims. On the winds of whims, you might say. Ha! I just came up with that! I like that. I'm gonna write that one down.

I'm rolling my eyes right now.

That's the appropriate response! And I already knew you were doing that. I'm in your head, remember? Your eyes are my eyes.

I still don't know what you mean by using déjà vu.

Déjà vu is just the name for that weird feeling people sometimes get, when they feel like they've been there before, said that same thing, did that same action. They think it's just this weird feeling and end of story. Truth is, it's the on-ramp that leads to the multiversal highway! Recognizing déjà vu is just the first part. Then you gotta use it. You gotta step through that door and enter the next room.

And what's in that next room? Or on the highway? You know, you should just stick to one metaphor. Easier for both of us.

The other room depends on your need. For instance, let's say you didn't forget your new book at home, the one you were going to finish on this trip, the one Trish got you for your birthday. Something simple like that. Or, more urgently, let's say a rabid dog happens to bound out of these woods and catches your scent. It finds you and begins to advance, snarling and foaming at the mouth. This would be... undesirable, right? So, you open the door to a nearly parallel dimension. One that is very much like this one, but without all that unnecessary rabid dog business. In that other dimension, that dog took a left turn instead of a right turn a few moments ago and therefore is no longer your problem.

You see? Interdimensional hopping is a wonderful way of avoiding unpleasantness!

Ok... so if this was real, then why does bad stuff happen to people all the time? If this was really possible, what's to stop me from interdimensionally hopping you right out of my head?

Whoa, whoa! Slow down there, buddy! Listen. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. This ability is extremely rare. You, for example, are as far as I know the only one that can do it.

That's pretty rare...

Exactly.

So let me get this straight. I have a voice in my head that claims to be me, sort of, and I am the sole human being in the universe that can bend reality to my will. Did I sum that up nicely?

You can be as sarcastic as you like. But here we are, having a conversation in your head. Would you lie to yourself?

I do it all the time. How do you think I get through the day? You can't be me and survive very long, looking like I do, without a certain amount of self deception.

Alright. Fair enough. And yes, that pretty much describes your situation. You are the only one in this universe. There are an infinite number of universes in the multiverse though.

What does that mean? What's the multiverse?

The multiverse is made up of all the universes that there are. And, as I said, there are infinite universes. You are in this universe, currently. There is a universe that looks almost entirely like this one in every way, except you just plucked a leaf from a branch and stuck it up your nose. In that universe, everything can and will differ from this one from this moment forward. Infinite universes are perpetually stemming from infinite universes. Like branches from a tree. Infinite branches. From infinite trees. And every branch becomes a tree in its own right, with infinite branches of its own.

With a forest that big, how come we still have global warming?

That's not funny.

Sheesh! Touchy subject?

You have no idea.... but, a conversation for a later date. Right now, we're discussing the multiverse, and hopping between universes.

And you... are making my head hurt.

Ok. Still don't believe me? Try it! What's the harm?

It's not that I don't believe you. It's more or less that I don't believe that you are real in the first place. So, by extension, all the rest is absolute nonsense. No offense...

None taken.

But do go on.

I will. So... then it wouldn't hurt to try it, right?

Try what?

Hopping.

Hopping...

Hopping into another dimension of the multiverse. To a different universe. One, for example, where you believe I'm real and you trust my words. Just get some of those déjà vu juices going, and hop.

Just like that.

Well, first, you gotta click your heels three times and say "there's no place like the twilight zone".

...

Listen. Take a deep breath. Exhale slowly. Imagine a world where this all makes sense. Where you trust that I'm real and where you have an incredible gift.

Ohmmmm...

You're kind of a jerk, you know that?

Doesn't that mean you're calling yourself a jerk then?

So be it. Just indulge me?

Sure, why not. Just breathe, huh?

Relax. Breathe. Meditate. Zone out.

Well, that should be easy. I'm in a zoned-out state most of the time anyway.

You are! That's why you've accidentally hopped a number of times. Your natural state of mind is already 90% there. You just need to bring it to a conscious level.

I stared off into the forest, but at nothing in particular. Unfocusing my eyes, I took a long, slow, deep breath through my nose, held it for a few heartbeats, then exhaled slowly.

I felt myself getting goosebumps. A feeling of expectation suddenly washed over me. Anticipation. I didn't fight it, I just went with it.

This forest suddenly seemed so familiar. I know that I've never been here before, but I swear I've stood in this very spot. Looking off into the trees. That log over there with the mushrooms growing on one side, the stump all green with moss. I've seen this scene before. Dreamt it, maybe. What if the voice was real? Wouldn't it be kinda cool if I had powers like that? To hop around the multiverse like a parallel time traveler?

I am real.

I shook my head to clear away these strange thoughts, then smiled to myself ruefully. I always hated it when a character in a story "shook his head to clear his thoughts". Like that really does anything. But I did feel better. The goosebumps were gone, that strange feeling of déjà vu had dissipated. The forest around me looked like a normal forest; nothing had changed.

I headed back to the treehouse, feeling rather silly. Trish looked up as I approached.

"You ok?" She looked concerned.

"Yeah, actually, I'm pretty happy. This forest is so peaceful! So easy to immerse yourself in the sounds and greenery of it all!"

"Greenery?"

"That's a word, isn't it?"

I awkwardly tried to climb into one of the hammocks. The book in my cargo shorts pocket kept getting caught in the netting, making it difficult to get in.

"Oh! My book! I thought I left it at home!"

"Aren't you glad I reminded you before we left? Honestly, where would you be without me?"

I stared at her, stunned. I had left the book at home! Sitting right on the counter. I remember the conversation in the car where she laughed and rolled her eyes at my constant forgetfulness! How the hell is it in my pocket?!

Welcome to the next chapter of your life...