Just as you still feel the reverberations of past events so too you must feel the effects of future events without naturally any present knowledge of what they are. The consequences of a decision are hidden within the act, you do not choose them but you recognise them when they arise, as if they were in another knowing inaccessible but felt only as a certain colouring, light coming to you from further along the path. Nothing was unanticipated, much less that the anticipation was a real link to what had not yet been revealed. It is as if the timeless and complete book of your life exists alongside the temporalised, the serial edition of the same history or world-line. But then surely the luminescence of the event at the end of the mind is also here, bronze by gold, or chill blue, raking beneath the jumbled chaos of the day. Not a single thing can be without these two crossing beams from inexistence, one from birth and one from death.