The future already exists: Creativity, love, and the physics of destiny

How art, motherhood, and new love taught me to listen forward instead of looking back.

Mechanical Memory Mountain, acrylic and crayon on canvas, 24” x 24”, © Anne Zelenka

When I had my third child 22 years ago, I recognized her immediately. The nurse-midwife placed her swaddled in my arms. I looked at her calm, serene face.¹ I felt a sense of destiny; I knew she and I had important things to do together. I already knew her.

I said to her, oh, it’s you.

What if certain moments—of love, creativity, or recognition—are not glimpses of possibility, but memories of what already exists?

the block universe theory

Could it be possible that I felt the reverberations of our future together in that moment? Could I detect the echos our future ski and hiking trips? The cruises we’d take together, to Mexico and the Caribbean? How we’d learn to rely on and support each other on a daily basis, not just as mother and daughter, but as the best of friends?

If the block universe theory is true, perhaps.

The block universe theory, a.k.a. eternalism, says that time is like space: all moments—past, present, and future—exist equally. Time doesn’t flow; instead, you move through it as though you were riding on a chairlift,² experiencing what was already foreordained. In this view, the future is just as real as the past and present.

I’m not a physicist, so I can’t argue for or against the block universe theory. Many physicists and philosophers take this theory as a viable interpretation of time, given what we know from relativity. Einstein himself leaned towards such a theory, writing in a 1955 letter that “the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

I am, however, a pragmatist—I believe in things that are useful to believe. I think truth value is measured in utility. And I believe, at times, I’ve felt my future in my present. I believe my future already exists. I believe that my best creative work is channeled from the future. I believe that love at first sight happens when you meet a person who means a lot to you, just not yet.

channeling creative work from the future

If we can sense the future in our children, maybe we can also sense it in our work.

Creators of all kinds describe the act of making as a form of channeling. When the flow arrives, you produce your very best work—and yet it doesn’t feel like you intentionally or consciously did it. It feels like it was done through you, by someone or something else.

I had that experience with Mechanical Memory Mountain, above, and with most of my paintings. I don’t plan them out beforehand. That one was inspired by a show that used the Japanese enso circle as a theme, so I knew I needed circles in it. I had the idea of using a chairlift sheave assembly as a motif. But I didn’t plan out the bright colors reminiscent of ski gear and ski wear or the slanting slope or the faded blue circles in the lower right.

It’s crazy to think that my painting was already in existence as I was painting it, and I was just riding towards it.

an explanation for love at first sight

Could love at first sight be a glimpse of your future? Maybe it’s just chemistry—someone wildly attractive crossing your path. But it’s more interesting to imagine that in the moment of falling, you're feeling your future with this person. A flash of destiny.

I’ve just started seeing someone new, and I feel that pull, that sense of inevitability. He reminds me of someone I used to love, who himself reminded me of someone even further in my past.

But what if it’s not that the new man in my life echoes past lovers. What if they were both echoes of him?

the problem of free will

If the future already exists, then what about free will? Are you just riding a track laid out in advance, unable to choose where you go?

I won’t wade too deep into the philosophical weeds here, but it’s worth noting that some thinkers believe free will and the block universe can coexist. This view is called compatibilism.

Compatibilism suggests that even if the universe is fixed from a God's-eye view, your experience from within it is still one of choice. You deliberate, you struggle, you decide. Your actions may already exist in spacetime, but you still feel your way into them moment by moment.

maybe it’s just stories we tell ourselves

Setting aside the question of free will, you probably feel pretty skeptical about this, and I don’t blame you.

Maybe love at first sight is just projection—a surge of dopamine and unmet longing. Maybe the creative “flow” state where you feel like you’re channeling your best work is just your brain connecting neurons in surprising, well-practiced ways. Maybe déjà vu is nothing more than a neurological hiccup. Maybe a sense of destiny is just hindsight pretending it knew all along.

Some would say that using the block universe theory as a way to make meaning of these moments is just a kind of magical woo-woo thinking.

But even if that’s true—even if I’m just creating a story to wrap around my experience—I think that story matters. Humans are storytelling creatures. Meaning is something we make, not something we’re handed. If the idea that time is already laid out helps me live more intentionally, recognize creative flow as sacred, or love someone more deeply and with a sense of inevitability, maybe that’s ok.

Truth, like I said, can be measured not only in accuracy, but in usefulness. It’s kind of like thinking you’re living in a sim, even if you’re not.

have you ever felt your future in the present?

Have you ever stood in a place and thought: I know this—even though you’ve never been there before? Met someone who felt like a returning character in your life’s story? Created something that seemed to arrive fully formed, as if it had been waiting for you to notice?

Maybe that wasn’t just intuition. Maybe it was memory of a moment that already exists, just not here yet.

When I held my daughter for the first time and said, oh, it’s you, I wasn’t making a prediction. I was recognizing someone I already knew. Maybe all the love, struggle, laughter, and trust we would go on to build was already there, held in that moment that rang into eternity.

1. Incredible that she could look so peaceful after a dangerous birth in which her shoulder got stuck. Maybe I just felt a big sense of relief when I saw her face, and that became in my mind a sense of destiny.

2. The painting shared in this article is intended to represent the sequence of events (becoming memories) that lead into our present and future. It suggests the sheaves on a chairlift, pulling us forward.