duality

Light is known in scientific circles to have a wave-particle duality. Light appears on the horizon, then washes over the world with the brightness of a new day before receding back into the darkness. But light also consists of photons, tiny invisible particles capable of exciting electrons into outward-bound, dancing leaps of measurable energy. Waves of brightness composed of tiny particles of energy, just as the ocean consists of waves of hydrogen-bonded particles of dihydrogen monoxide.

I choose to believe that time, also, has a wave-particle duality. "Time is the fire in which we burn" says one of my favorite actors, Malcolm McDowell, as a Star Trek villian who attempts to harness a nexus wave of time to regain a happier portion of his life. Unfortunately, time only exists as such a viewable ribbon in the movies. Time proceeds ever forward, ever into the future, regardless of the events in its wake. All we can do is attempt to control it by marking its invisible passage with years, days, nanoseconds. Memories are the packets of time recorded in our minds, condensing the present moment's people and events into stored bits of energy which can be recalled by a word, an odor, a vision, a sound, a taste.

I choose to believe that goodness, too, can have a wave-particle duality. We witness small single acts of goodness every day: a phone call from a friend, a smile from a stranger, an unexpected gift from a loved one. But those single acts can foster other acts of goodness, larger displays of charitable intent which benefit not just one, but many, not just the recipient, but also the donor. Giving blood is one such act of goodness with far-reaching effects. Giving blood is a gift one provides to strangers in need, strangers who will never know the author of that life-restoring act of goodness. I choose to believe that the receipt of such a gift inspires a desire to impart further acts of random kindess. I HAVE to believe.