Fractal Reality

Fractal Reality is the template. The infinite repetition of basic patterns, from the smallest, to the greatest.

I was sitting in the Port Authority in New York City, either on my way home for weekend pass, or returning to Fort Dix, New Jersey where I worked as an outpatient receptionist and Aide, fulfilling my duties as a U.S. Army medic. Waiting for my bus, I usually liked to watch as different people passed by, but, it must have been a late hour, because there weren't any other people to watch. Sometimes there would be parents with kids, sometimes, just a dad struggling with more than he should have to deal with, or a mom in the same situation. Pimps (and back then, they all wanted to look like Super Fly) and prostitutes, drunks and druggies, people of all colors, some speaking in foreign languages and wearing exotic clothing. I was eighteen, and it all seemed so fascinating to me. On this particular trip, my layover at the Port Authority was quite boring. I sat alone, and there may have been other people waiting, but very few. Suddenly, from down around the corner of the bus garage, I heard voices. One excited voice, and at least two other voices, sounding placating, as though trying to calm the excited one down. As they came into view, I saw that it was two Port Authority cops with a bedraggled fellow between them. One had the man by the left arm, the other by the right. As they took the man past me, I could hear him saying "...and there are patterns all around us..." and one or the other cops said "What kind of patterns?" in feigned curiousity. The man replied "All kinds of patterns, and if you look for them, you'll see them too!" At that, the other cop said "Sure, buddy...patterns everywhere. Plaids, and polka dots?" With that, the man started dragging his feet, but the two burly officers just kept pulling him along. The last I heard was the poor unfortunate saying "Plaids and polka dots? No... you don't understand!" I was convinced, as the cops evidently were, that the guy had a breakdown, and had flipped his tip. Then, at the age of twenty four, I started seeing patterns...everywhere. Not plaids or polka dots. Fractal patterns. Fractal patterns are those basic patterns which are found in nature which repeat, from the smallest quantum, to the largest. From the micro to the macro. This is not just the basis for mathematics of the highest order, and the basis for Buddhist thought, but is also the basis for the spiritual thought of the Native American beliefs, the Wakan knowledge. In all three cases, it is the evidence of the balance which exists in nature.

From a tiny shell, and I've seen some that are barely bigger than a pinhead, the spiral follows the path all the way up to the shape of a galaxy. Whirlpool and whirlwind, and windswept cliffs, gravity wells and vortexes, gravitational fields. The shape and arrangement of cells with squares, rectangles, circles, triangles. Atoms, positrons, neutrons and the solar systems which surround this and other stars. Light patterns and the flow of energies seeking the path of least resistance, like a river flowing down the side of a mountain, or the veins of a leaf which evidences the bush or tree from which it originated, or even the unique pattern of individual snowflakes. Each one exactly the same, yet, exactly different. Each one following the path of least resistance. This is the true nature of this Fractal Reality. Resistance is futile.

Like a mirror, all things in nature reflect, replicate, gaining in presence and position, filling up the voids, the vacuums. Filling all the niches. When one thing closes, another one gains an opening, and all things continue, and in truth, there is no beginning, and so, there is no end...that is, if the patterns hold true. Peace