Does Time Affect Reality?

Day 1
Session 3

 
    Stanley gave his usual little bow to indicate the commencement of the workshop and that Ti Ming was present.

‘This workshop is entitled Does Time Affect Reality?’ he announced. ‘What do you think?’

I dutifully wrote it down to give me something to do while I thought about the question.

Does Time Affect Reality?

Well, we had two choices.

‘Yes,‘ I said.

Betty went for ‘No.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ June looked confused. (Obviously there had been three choices.)

Stanley marched on the spot while he considered us.

‘Alright. I will tell you a little story,’ I relaxed back into my seat and put the pen down. The pressure was off for the moment.

‘Suppose you were out walking. It is a beautiful day and you are on a narrow pathway going over some mountains. As you round the corner there is a dog standing on the path and barking at you, refusing to let you pass. What would you do?’

‘How big was the dog?’ I wanted to know.

He smiled. ‘It was quite a large dog.’

‘Then I think I’d turn back,’ I replied. ‘I’m not keen on ferocious dogs, I got bitten as a child by an Alsatian.’

‘Who said it was ferocious?’ Betty wanted to know.

‘Who said it was an Alsatian?’ June said. ‘Some large dogs are quite friendly. Well you should know Abby, you’ve got Heidi and she’s quite big isn’t she?’

I turned to Stanley. ‘Was it a ferocious Alsatian?’

Infuriatingly, he just smiled and didn’t answer.

‘I’d talk to it. I’m good with dogs.’ June lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘You know, I don’t tell everyone this but I’m something of a dog whisperer.’

‘I’d approach it and offer it a biscuit,’ Betty decided.

‘Hang on,’ I protested, ‘where did you get the biscuit?’

‘From my bag.’

‘No biscuits allowed,’ I maintained, ‘that’s cheating.’

‘No it isn’t.’

June laughed, she was enjoying herself I could tell.

‘Stanley, are you going to let her get away with cheating?’ I demanded.

He looked around at our animated faces and took control of the situation in a masterful tone that was quite foreign to him. Usually he stayed out of discussions when they got heated.

‘OK. Can we forget about biscuits please? I know it might still be on your mind because we’ve just had our coffee, but what you need to be thinking is, whose right of way is it?’

‘Ours of course,’ I thought it was an obvious question.

Betty was not so sure. The fact that he’d asked the question meant that here was something to consider. I wrote hastily:

  

Whose right of way is it?

‘The dogs?’ she answered hesitantly, making it a question.

‘The dogs?’ June repeated and laughed. ‘How can the dog have a right of way?’

‘Well let’s suppose that he thinks he has, whose right of way is it from whose point of view?’ I admired the way Stanley (or Ti Ming) had got us back on track.

I put my hand up as if I were in school and Stanley nodded for me to answer.

‘I guess from our point of view it was our right of way, and from the dog’s point of view it was his right of way. He was defending his path.’

Stanley smiled, looking pleased.

‘Correct. From your point of view the dog was in the way of the path and from the dog’s point of view the path was in the way of the dog.’

It sounded confusing, so I wrote it down in order to look at the written words. Things always looked clearer when I could see them. June looked over my shoulder as I wrote:

From our point of view:

The dog was in the way of the path
 

From the dog’s point of view:

The path was in the way of the dog