Morphic Fields
By: David Deschesne
Editor/Publisher,
Fort Fairfield Journal
February 28, 2018
In 1999 I shattered my right leg just below the knee by trying to stop my Ford F150 pickup truck from rolling into a ditch [lesson learned: I can’t stop a 3,500 pound truck from rolling, no matter how slow it is creeping along.]
Dr. Hersey fixed me up at TAMC quite well with a couple of plates, fourteen screws and a cadaver bone.
During one of my checkups, I asked him how does my bone know that it’s broken, then what to do to make the proper mineral and chemical reactions to regrow it, then to know when to stop once it’s healed.
His simple answer to my complex question was; “It just knows.”
While humans can’t regrow whole new appendages, other life forms can. For example, a shore crab can regrow a lost pincer in just a few weeks and salamanders are also able to regrow parts of their body that have been removed. Establishment, mechanistic-based science is unable to come up with a reasonable explanation on how this process works or why. Science is only concerned with regularity, repeatability and predictability. It cannot account for creativity which in its very essence is unpredictable.
A few years ago my wife and I raised ten Rhode Island Red hens for eggs. We got them when they were 6 weeks old, around the time they were ready to get out on their own.
We brought them home and kept them in a small cage until I finished building a chicken coop for them. I was told to put a horizontal bar about halfway up for them to roost on and build some nesting boxes for them to lay eggs in. After plenty of wood chip bedding (eventually I changed them over to hay) they were ready to move in.
All were happy in their new home with lots of food and water. They were still young, so no eggs yet.
A few weeks later they were able to flap their wings and get airborne. That’s when I noticed my first curiosity about our new feathered friends. They all would flap up onto the perch bar just as the sun was beginning to set on the horizon and they would remain there until morning, when the sun was just starting to come up. How did they know to do that? No other bird was around to teach them and my wife and I certainly didn’t (we didn’t know that’s what they would do to begin with). Presumably it was instinct to get off the ground when night came in order to avoid nocturnal predators. It was just interesting how a bird with such a small brain would be hard-wired to know not only when to perch, but where, and when it was okay to get back down again.
As these young chicks grew to egg laying maturity, I would go into the chicken coop to find them choosing a nest box, making a nest of the hay and laying eggs in them. [Side note: healthy hens will lay an egg a day. We had ten hens so after 30 days, we had 300 eggs. Think of that before you get a bunch of hens for personal egg consumption. We ended up donating most of our eggs to Friends Helping Friends food pantry.]
How do the chickens know when to roost, when to nest, and how long to brood over their newly laid eggs? How did my broken bone know when to begin the healing process, how to heal, and when to stop healing when the bone was all back together? How about the crab regrowing a lost pincer or a salamander regrowing a lost tail? These were some really intriguing questions and while “instinct” is a blanket answer given by most scientists, it doesn’t really answer to the actual mechanism—be it physical or metaphysical—that’s going on.
Looking throughout the animal and insect kingdom we find copious examples of intelligence, or pre-intelligence exhibited such as the migration of the monarch butterfly, to birds flying south for the winter and back north to the summer, birds flocking together and flying as one unit—just as fish do in schools. Salmon even return to the spot in the freshwater stream in which they were born in order to lay their eggs and ultimately die.
What is this mechanism called instinct and how can it be rationally explained?
These were questions I pondered from time to time through the years until 2015 when I got my hands on a book by Rupert Sheldrake entitled, The Presence of the Past: Morphic Resonance & the Memory of Nature.
To answer the scientists’ theory of instinct being encoded in the brain neurons of the respective life forms, Sheldrake points out that “the conventional idea that memory must be explicable in terms of physical traces within the nervous system is an assumption rather than an empirical fact.”1 In other words, scientists are assuming instinct is the process but have no way of proving it.
Instead, Sheldrake postulates there is a sort of a field, a memory field, or in his words a “Morphic Field” which permeates the entire universe to which the memories and lessons of various life forms are uploaded and ultimately accessed by their respective life forms both contemporary and in the future. This access is not in the brain, but instead via the brain. In other words, the information field exists everywhere and the brain is merely the receiving mechanism for it like a television tuner or a computer Wi Fi modem that receive signals from all around them.
Under this theory, it seems all animal instincts originate from a so-called “memory pool” which is constantly updated from preceding experiences of animals that came before. These conscious experiences are uploaded into an infinitely large pool of memories. This, for example, could explain how an isolated group of macaque monkeys on one Japanese island began to wash the dirt off their sweet potatoes in the ocean or a stream, after their cousins on a distant, isolated island discovered the technique a short time before—by tapping into the knowledge of a theoretical ‘morphogenic field’ which had that information uploaded to it by the first group of monkeys.2
Under a process of Morphic resonance called “formative causation” Sheldrake suggests that complex protein structures and even DNA receive information from the Morphic Field that ultimately influences how they form.3
Like a gravitational, electrical or even magnetic field, a Morphic Field could also surround us similar to the way information is encoded in a hologram.
A hologram is a three dimensional image encoded on a photographic plate by a combination of direct and reflected laser light from a split laser beam. A series of what appear to be random wavy interference patterns that look nothing like the image are encoded everywhere on the plate simultaneously. When a laser light of the same frequency is shined through the plate, a three dimensional image will appear to manifest in the space outside of the holographic plate. If you then cut that plate into a number of pieces and shine laser light through each piece, you still get a whole image which illustrates the 3D image is encoded everywhere on the plate simultaneously—not in a standard reductionist 2 dimensional X-Y axis like a standard photograph. Multiple holograms can be encoded on the same plate by using lasers of different colors; then, only the image which corresponds to its encoded color will result while all other images remain hidden. Perhaps this is similar to the process where various conscious life-forms upload their memories and experiences to the Morphic Field and other similar species’ consciousnesses download it, but it does not cross-download to other species’ consciousnesses.
This field not only influences formation and “instinct” but has been also shown to influence learning and behaviors in society and can also account for various ESP phenomenon such as pre-cognition, clairvoyance and remote seeing as the brain-receivers of those so gifted appear to have a greater ability to tune into these theoretical fields than others.
Notes
1. The Presence of the Past: Morphic Resonance & the Memory of Nature, ©2012 Rupert Sheldrake, p. 249
2. Mysteries of Mind, Space and Time, © 1992 Orbis Publishing. Vol. 2, p. 187.
3. The Presence of the Past pp. 136-142