I Mastered Time Travel

I sat with myself in 2 timelines at the same spot after I made a promise

The proof that the trick is working, is when the universe shivers down your spine.

If you were given a chance to go back and time and change anything about your life, would you? Or, even just a chance to sit down with your past self, where would you go? What would you say? What if I told you that time travel is real, and you can?

As humans, we are obsessed with the concept of time. We have calendars to track it. Supercomputers measure it to a fraction so precise we don’t perceive it, but boy, do we know how long the day is. Our bodies track time just fine, though. If left to our own devices, we’d still get along for the most part. But, no, we’ve decided we’re obsessed with it.

It’s the one commodity we can never get back. It ruthlessly trucks along, whether we like it or not.

That’s why it fills fiction. Videogames give you the ability to redo (those that don’t have a thrilling component). Vampires and gods defy time.

Time itself is fantastical. Flying at the speed of light and waking up to everything you once knew gone and utilizing the folds of the universe. Delicately going to the past and the consequences of the slightest change.

All you have to do is think about daylight savings from the perspective of the ducks around that pond you walk around. How ridiculous must it be to see people walking their dogs habitually, only to have them all shift by one hour one day without a sign? Fascinating.

Timebound at Work

I work on ships. I took off from Tokyo, Japan, and landed in Hawaii the same day a few hours later. I’ve crossed the dateline many times. One year, I lost Halloween (my favorite holiday), yet got two Valentine’s Days (my least favorite). I am no stranger to time changes or tracking when my next coffee break will come.

I am a master of time. When a whim hits me, I’ll happily wake up at 5 am to make it happen.

So, the day I was told you could time travel, I immediately started to. I had been doing it for years and had no idea. The second I was given a name for what I was doing, I immediately applied intent.

Now I’m here to tell you how to do it, too. Send energy back to yourself.

Before you roll your eyes and click away, stay with me.

Once as a kid, we drove out to Yosemite National Park. Like most of us, my childhood was not the best — my parents are boomers. I’m quite positive we were driving past a vineyard on that trip. Me, being pubescent, was happy to ignore everything and listen to my music too loud. But, instead of just letting it pass by, my dad yelled at me. When I removed my headphones, he angrily snapped we were passing grapevines. Young me could not have cared less about vineyards. I didn’t drink wine. We were barreling by too fast to take it in, and damnit, if you’re going to yell at me like I’m in trouble and interrupt my Slipknot, grapes are not worth it.

We went in the middle of summer, and there were no waterfalls. So, we did the touristy things and were greeted by Yosemite Sam everywhere. I was disappointed to find out it was not named for the cartoon character, and I was wildly confused by who came first. But, I remember promising myself I would go back one day and see it properly — no older siblings bickering, no dads yelling about grapes, and no dried-up waterfalls.

Since turning 26, I’ve gone back three times. I’ve hiked the hikes that get deserted because they’re difficult and long. One year they had an incredible winter, and there were waterfalls on waterfalls. I got lost on that particular trip and had to use an actual paper map to find my way home. It was awesome.

I honored little me. And that energy has carried me to unspeakable places.

As a kid, I both loved road trips and loathed them. I have since gone on to drive all over the western United States and gradually keep creeping east. One year, I put 30,000 miles on my car.

I started to do pole fitness because I could never climb the rope.

I made lists of all the roller coasters I want to ride, and I continue to check them off.

I’ve jumped out airplanes and off cliffs.

I’ve hiked mountains at night because I can.

Despite the sad looks, I’ve eaten alone in foreign countries and here at home.

I’ve done all of those things because I was tired of waiting and feeling like little me with no agency.

Each time I did something little me thought she could never do, I looked back and quietly said to her, “See? You did this. You can, and you will, and it will always be ok.” I kept the promises I made to myself.

Tying it Back into Fiction

Five years ago, I got the hair-brained idea to start writing again. Words have been my life’s passion. I would read or write before bed for as long as I could remember. If I lost myself, the first step back to myself was to read. So, on my path of recovery, that’s what I decided to do. I would begin to write. Sitting down with a dear friend, we made a pact to pursue our dreams of being authors. A five-year promise to myself would end with me being ready to look into the publishing process.

I dragged my feet. I was still sailing, working, what have you. I do recall writing. But, me being the social bee that I am, would often take social interaction over the page. It was just fine, though, because I had five years. Most importantly, though, is that the story continued to become a solid thread of ideas. I was finding ways to be inspired. I remained imperfectly true to myself.

Four years of the story later, something extra special happened. I buckled down. I made it a point to start putting down words intentionally. I would fail to be consistent, but I kept going. Then, last Christmas, I was on a ship. Nothing unique clicked until Facebook threw out a memory that said, “Five Years Ago.” Five years ago, I was sailing with the same company, on the same loop, in the exact port I was five years ago.

There were several differences. Biggest of all, five years ago, I was in the depths of recovery and rediscovery. I had never been more unhappy. But, that same ship is when I wrote for the first time in years. I put down paltry ideas occasionally and was determined to build on them. It was the after of that ship where I made my promise.

This time, I had two novels under my belt. A third is on the burner waiting for me to get the time to write it (with ideas and a plot) and Book One is mere months away from either being queried or published.

There I was, looking out at the same skyline during Christmas, and I was able to tell myself, “You did it.”

I time traveled.

All that energy I sent backward to myself. All those things I did because I promised myself I would. Every time I stumbled, I picked myself back up or pivoted on the spot. It worked. Don’t get me wrong. I was well aware of how I had held to my five-year plan. But, the profound moment of literally being right there when it happened is indescribable.

The Secret To Time Travel

That’s the secret to time travel. Chase yourself through every timeline. Hold on to every moment and send it forwards and backward. Learn to forgive, pick yourself up, pivot, and change course while holding to yourself.

The secret to time travel is that bucket lists are meant to burn.

The proof that it is working is when the universe shivers down your spine. The sensation that you stepped into a space held especially for you. That’s the future you sending it back.

Some notable moments from future me (likely me from five years ago) were the chance to use the word topography in an everyday conversation, an owl landing next to me in the middle of the night, and continually showing me the name of Saint Francis of Assisi. Gentle nudges. Want to know what me of today did? I dragged myself through five years of whatever the heck that was to plunk myself down on the deck of a ship to look out at Shanghai. I’m a person of grand gestures, you see.

I’m also dense as hell and like to drag my feet and bitch the whole way. It was a dramatic gesture indeed.

So, now that you know the secret to traveling through space and time, my friends, you’ll get better at it.

Regrets

Or, Why not timeline travel, in addition to time travel?

I’ve toyed with sending energy into alternate timelines. The me who didn’t mess up that good relationship, me who became a doctor, the one who became a fighter pilot, and me who didn’t have to make inevitable mistakes and just had an easy life. Why not? I got to sit with myself from two different times and fall absolutely in love with the life we’ve built. Unplanned and by pure chance.

I wish for everyone to find themselves so completely.

Worst case scenario is it’s all poppycock and it’s all coincidence. But, at least this way, you’re filled with more gratitude and can tell a story about it.