There is more to a memory than its physical traces. And despite the importance of libraries, a book recedes into oblivion until someone opens it. The same applies to the data filed on the ‘world wide web’ – for just like our books, artworks or machines, and even the ancient stone circles, it represents ideas and memories that cannot be realised or revived without an act of recognition. Indeed, as with the world itself, all such devices remain essentially oblivious to the fact that theirs is a reality of oblivion. Together with the universe at large, they simply function as temporary storage devices for the information built into them, which scientists read as the laws of physics. Nonetheless, this physical memory is active at its own level – because everything exists in active form. Thus the physical world ‘behaves’ lawfully. However, there are other sorts of activity that build into different realities – where information translates into knowledge, meanings and understandings that act both within and upon the laws of physics.
Of course anyone can set a stone rolling, and the physical world happens to resonate with our activities. The computer is a more sophisticated example which appears to take on a life of its own; but in terms of that ethereal thing called awareness, or its ephemeral counterpart called intention, it is more like the rolling stone. And of course, only physical forces can upend stones, though no one is in any doubt that these stones were put there intentionally. As such they represent a part of nature that is more than just natural. They represent an intentional shaping of reality located in a nature that acts without intention or awareness. They remind us of a fact that physics does not teach – of things we are apt to forget. Meanwhile, scientists hang onto the idea that it is always possible for the standing stones to have fallen into place by chance. But where in nature do we find the ‘thingness’ of intention and awareness except as resonant features of our beliefs, theories and ideas?