First things first, there is no physical 3d. The physical universe is 2d and 3d is a reflective interaction between two plane surfaces (The Fermi Neighbourhood) we will all eventually use this fact to our advantage, but more on that later.
To define* anything real one needs to define three things. This is a philosophical predicate; engagement in any further cogitation, debate or discussion from the definition of any unitary object will assume the other two by default. This is always true. To define a person you necessarily assume things which are not people in that definition. If you do not assume this then “person” refers to everything and you have defined nothing at all unique. Further to that you must assume the substrate on which the existence of “person” is sensible. If you are not assuming a substrate for the existence of your things then you are defining something which you have never seen and will never see. Fine if you don’t care that your premise has doomed you to start from scratch at some point, but if you would prefer than not to be the case then you’ll need to define what you see as you see it. Things exist in a universe, not a void. We can’t even make an actual void with our most advanced technology, so why would we assume one around anything we see occurring naturally?
These three things necessary to predicate existence can be modelled like a number line where, rather than the sides of zero being at 180 degrees from each other in the sense of some linear arrangement defining a vacuum into which things disappear, the positive and negative axes are orthogonal and always defining the same plane space. This is more real, the linear number line is nonsense in respect to the real in which we are psychologically engaged. Nothing disappears. It changes location and transforms. That is all. If a monkey eats a banana is there now nothing in the banana’s location? The banana is in the monkey. It becomes the monkey. So, past zero is fundamentally and provably, on infinite levels, into another thing. Every. Single. Time.
And negative one banana is equivalently positive some bits of monkey.
So one can see, the space defining ‘what is’ and ‘what is not’ is a plane.
To wit, this is the physical correspondence of Cartesian coordinates at its purest.
So on what axis does this plane rest? Of course it is time, and yet, we do not understand that well either. Again we define it as a line about a void into which things disappear. And this is harder because time does seem to disappear. Yet we know a future and a past, they are material on some level, they must be. We have scars and pain, we feel loss and distance, we hope above ourselves, we ride a wave of *something*, void seems so pointless to even contemplate, where’s the evidence of that? Nowhere.
Now allow me to further stir the contention about this “time” we call a dimension. It’s not a dimension. Yes you are entitled to demand my explanation for that, I’m challenging Einstein after all. 😛
Time is an angular momentum, a rate of change over light speed distances.
I model it like this. The semblance of all things in time are packets of information carried through light distances. The universe is constantly in motion, ergo, interaction between these packets of information occurs in parallel across the wavefronts of projected and reflected light. If you define an interacting surface, in motion, across the wavefront of travelling light each increment from your initial location will intersect a later running packet of information than the previous one. This rate of change is definable relative to the light distance of your initial location. So to say, at your initial moment, the information which you intersect in the light has travelled a precise distance from its source. That distance tells you how old the information is, in the relative sense. Increment that intersection one step across from the initial point, in parallel to the wave front. At this point the information of the age at the initial moment is behind you and you are intersecting a packet that was “behind” the packet you intersected in the initial moment. The second moment information is younger than the first. Move across again and the same thing happens. The previous point is now behind you again and you’ve intersected a, yet, younger packet of information. The rate at which this changes, I propose to you, is the phenomenon of time.