Reality.
Existence.
Infinity.
Eternity.
What do those mean? How can we possibly understand these concepts through pressed two-dimensional markings on a page? These words are limited—because we are. But that yearning to know everything keeps pushing us forward. That’s our strength.
The question often arises: What’s beyond this universe? Are there layers that exist side-by-side with our universe—ones that are invisible to us?
The simple answer is yes.
The more complicated one requires a few hundred hours of sit-down time to explain.
Humans have only just begun their trek to understand the universe, but there are other beings who’ve had the time to learn much more about it.
In my twenty-odd years of living, I’ve been acquainted—through telepathic communication—with a few of these extra-terrestrials who hold some of that knowledge. I’ve learned about their cultures, the births of their civilizations, their home worlds, and their sociopolitical standings among one another. There are millions of star-faring species in the physical universe alone, and some of them have discovered many of its secrets over their long lives. Some of this scientific knowledge has been shared with me—though I’ll be the first to admit that my ability to comprehend every facet of their discoveries is limited.
One must consider, when learning from beings who think and behave very differently from us, the amount and clarity of information that can be successfully passed through.
Let me explain: when I ask my contacts to tell me what they know about the multiverse, they might not be experts in that subject. Most are more knowledgeable in social or cultural areas. Even if they do know the answer, they must translate telepathically through three means: emotional, visual, and linguistic. Some of my contacts don’t know English (my most fluent language) and must focus on conveying information using only two of the three.
Because of this, information can be mistranslated or lost. Once it arrives in my mind, I must unpack it, connect it to ideas I understand, and then form the words to communicate it here. Though it may take seconds for the answer to arrive, it can take years for me to fully grasp it.
I’m not a mathematician or physicist. But because I longed to know the higher mysteries of the multiverse and the matter woven within it, I was compelled to do my own research and learn from those with a scientific background. My E.T. contacts never promised it would be easy. If I want answers, they make me work for them—so I can fully grasp what they’re trying to share.
Every so often, answers to questions I had asked—or never even considered asking—would click into place. That’s what happened when I began to understand the multiverse.
While still in my teenage years, E.T.s had already told me much about their people, and how some beings had explored beyond the physical plane—even into other universes entirely.
“So there’s more to this place (the universe) than what we can see?” I asked one of my contacts and friends, Mezreth.
“There is so much more than what your (corporeal beings’) senses tell you. They allow your bodies to survive—not to have total cosmic awareness,” he said.
“You’re saying our senses can’t be trusted?” I asked.
“Consider this instead: What is there that I cannot see? That question propelled us to seek answers.”
Mezreth isn’t like my other physical contacts. He isn’t even physical at all. His people have lived so long that they eventually shed their corporeal forms, becoming energy that can shape itself at will and travel across galaxies as easily as visiting the next town. Mezreth can choose to become physical by tuning himself to the correct frequency of matter.
That led me to another question: If there are specific frequencies for objects I can interact with, how many frequencies exist for things I can’t? Where are they? Do they exist in another layer of the universe that shares the same space we occupy? Do these objects—or beings—know about us? Would they perceive us as mysteries? Aren’t we also extra-dimensional beings?
Cintas, another extra-terrestrial contact, was once an exo-planar explorer. It sounds thrilling—but much of her exploration involved peering into empty pockets of space in a lab through a scope tuned to observe infinite planes. When she discovered a new plane, she would log its frequency coordinates so they could be used for interdimensional travel.
Cintas has the best understanding of the multiverse of anyone I’ve met—aside from Mezreth. She taught me a lot about the bizarre nature of space, dimensionality, and planar layers.
According to Cintas, space planes are like pieces of fabric. If you’re large enough, you can sit and roll freely on one. If you’re tiny, like a particle, you can fall through the gaps in that fabric. There are millions—billions, even trillions—of these layers, and some particles can catch on one and become large enough to roll around on it, and so on.
Cintas describes these planes as sitting along a spectrum that stretches infinitely in both directions. Each one vibrates at a specific frequency, which determines whether we can interact with or detect it.
Dimensions, meanwhile, are structural. Using the fabric analogy again, a dimension might be the thickness of the fabric. All beings interact with more than one plane and frequency—that’s why naturally sensitive people can perceive more than just the one they physically occupy.
I asked Cintas if extra-terrestrial scientists had ever discovered the edge of the plane spectrum.
“Certainly not. We’re always improving our equipment to find more layers—we don’t know everything. I’m a scientist because I don’t know,” she said.
“Does anyone?”
“Maybe. But if someone tells you they have all the answers—they’re ignorant at best, liars at worst.”
If there are seemingly infinite planes in this universe, what about the space outside it? How far does it stretch? If beings like Cintas and Mezreth don’t know, then we certainly don’t.
My contacts have spoken about what lies beyond this universe—and yes, there are layers out there too. One of them includes parallel universes, or alternate realities: “fraternal twins” of our own. They’re not exact copies. Each one contains something unique.
A universe could be as drastically different as one where no stars or planets formed—just clouds of gas. Or as subtly different as a single animal walking in the opposite direction.
According to my contacts, this means universes are constantly splitting and being created, like cells dividing in a cosmic organism.
There is no number large enough to count all the parallel universes. But extra-terrestrials have categorized them by degree of difference.
For example, if a tree didn’t grow in one universe, that universe is considered “closest” to ours. But if an asteroid obliterated an entire planet, that universe would be “further.” Cintas says the furthest ones they’ve observed exist in entirely different timelines—or have no time at all.
Right now, in another reality:
- Europeans have just discovered the Americas.
- Humanity has made First Contact.
- Atlantis is being destroyed—at this very moment.
Which brings us to time travel.
If other universes experience different flows of time, then time travel isn’t impossible. Extra-terrestrials and extra-dimensionals have been exploring this for ages. Mezreth and Cintas explained that if someone travels to a universe a century “behind” ours and changes something, it affects that universe—not this one.
It’s even possible to pull objects from those past timelines into ours, or send ours into theirs. To do this, a rift must be created between the two universes—literally tearing through their fabrics.
However, among the interstellar community, tampering with time (in this or any universe) is viewed as dangerous and chaotic.
Mezreth told me that some areas of space are so badly damaged by temporal experiments that they’ve been boarded off—completely closed to travel.
When I asked him why, he said:
“There are billions of unopened doors around you. When you begin opening them, sometimes they lead to greener pastures. Sometimes they hold seas away. If you open the wrong door, the water will come in—it will flood and drown everything caught in it.”
I guess some extra-terrestrials had to learn the hard way.
After being introduced to the wild nature of the multiverse, I quickly realized another danger hidden within that knowledge: our insignificance.
When you consider how massive this place is—and how short our lives are—what’s the point? Why keep going? It can feel like we don’t matter at all.
When my thoughts drifted into those dark places, Mezreth would just laugh and say:
“In this place, if you are made of matter—you do matter.”
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