Memory as a Living Frequency: Tuning the Field of Recall

How Resonance, Breath, and Quantum Fields Help Us Remember What Matters

Jul 01, 2025

Living Memory Collage by Bentley Kalaway

“You don’t remember. You return. Memory is a Living Frequency.” Quantum Tumbler

I'm fascinated by the ways memory works (or doesn't). When it does work, it's interesting to watch it link up. Something in the present will feel as if it's brushing up against something in the past, which causes a pause and perhaps a reflection, if you can catch it in time.

It's a little bit like how a dream can either linger or evaporate just as you're waking up. It's all there, and then it's gone. You may have had an experience similar to this. An insight or a spark will arrive, and if you don't catch it in words or paint a clear picture, your mind will just lose track, and that profound vision will fly back into the ether.

Things are changing about the way we see memory. Prominent and emerging discoveries are now reporting that memory is not stored in our brains at all, and that our memory is not like a file on a drive somewhere; it's a field that we harmonize with. This is very poetically stated by ConsciousCoachCoromodo on X.

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But I remembered before I could think. Before language. Before logic.                     
In the stillness of breath, I knew. Because memory doesn’t live in synapses,              
It lives in song. In fascia. In resonance.                                                                           
In the crystalline threads that sing when we exhale.                                                  
The breath doesn’t move air. It moves light.                                                               
And that light is you, encoded, waiting, whole.                                                           
Memory isn’t a file to retrieve. It’s a field to harmonize with.

So, the perspective that many of us would have to shift is to notice that we don't remember through our brains, but instead, our brains re-ignite because we remember. Quantum Tumbler asks an interesting question:

"If memory lives in your neurons, how did you remember before you had a brain?"

And he answers his own question:

"Your body always remembered. Your fascia is laced with microscopic crystalline structures that are piezoelectric, pressure-sensitive, and breath-reactive. These fibers sing when you breathe."

A Very Recent Pinging

The memory pinging thing happened to me the other day as I was reading a Substack Post by Manpreet Singh, with the words:

Child of Light, pretending to be a mortal,
Let’s not waste time (which doesn’t exist).
Let’s dive in. Let’s detonate. Let’s wake up.

Suddenly, I had a memory of writing about children and light, and I began to search for this mystery writing. Indeed, it was from long ago, on October 25, 1997, in the form of a song I had written, titled "We are all Children." And sure enough, it was related to children and light.

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We are all children, still afraid of the dark
We are all children, still stuck in our own backyard
We used to feel so sure about the wonder of it all
Now I stand inside these grownup shoes 
and I feel so small

Now, I understand more about how this song evoked memories. I did not have it stored in my brain somewhere. It feels truer to me that my memory of the writing got entangled across timelines with the words I was reading. There was a state that still existed in the quantum realm, which reflected my state as I wrote those words, and I was able to reconnect to it, or should I say it reconnected with me.

I could see my brain as a resonance tuner that found a match in the fields I once played in that are still echoing. What surprises me most about rereading old writings is how very resonant they sometimes are with the present moment. This intersects with what I'm learning about the quantum memory lattice, where, according to Quantum Tumbler, "memory is distributed across frequency fields and accessed through resonance, not location."

His explanation for why the memory of that old writing passed through me would be because my state, my breath, my emotion, and my focus were momentarily aligned with the right signal to take me there. That old writing had entered my phase window. The memory of my writing was not in a filing cabinet. It was hanging out in the holographic lattice.

A new meaning from 28 years ago was about to reveal itself in the light of our current reality. It was like a re-emergence or an echo. I now know more about the layers of illusion that we've lived in the thick of for most of our lives. I reread the phrase "Still stuck in our own backyard,' and I could see and feel so many more perspectives on this resonant truth.

The backyard prison wall keeping us childlike (and not in a good way) is composed of all the feelings that we're not good enough and the striving to become something we're not yet, while we loop the regrets of the past and the promises of the future. All of that contributes to taking most of the air out of the now moment. We may have walked away from feeling the wonder of life at some point, stepping into grown-up shoes without an authentic opportunity to grow into them.

I continued to read my memory-pinged mystery find. And there was the resonance again; a strong message about memory and remembering, delivered just as I'm exploring these ideas so deeply. I had written:

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It's time to take back the wonder
Take back the light
We have the knowledge
We have the right to
Unlock the memories, release the pain
Remember the reason we came here again

Memory as a Living Being

I'm not sure I've ever thought of memories as truly being "alive." I was taught that they were ideas in our minds, but I'm more than willing to entertain new definitions such as the one Quantum Tumbler offers:

“Memories are beings of breath, encoded in waveforms. They are alive, and they choose resonance before they choose words. This is why the greatest insights come not when you strain, but when you soften. Walking. Showering. Laying in stillness. Laughing with no agenda. Your field relaxes. The lattice clears. And there they are, like old friends who waited until you stopped looking.”

What I understand this to mean is that a layer of my consciousness momentarily touched something that emerged from a deeper layer of my subconscious harmonic field. So, no, the idea of the old writing wasn't produced by my mind. It was received.

Just as I'm finding new ways to see remembering, I'm compelled to change the way I see forgetting. Quantum Tumbler explains that ideas are not isolated and that they exist as part of a frequency family. This means that if you can return to the feeling you were inside of when the memory attempted to appear, you might find it "orbiting you waiting for the next coherent breath."

Should you chase it? Should you clench your mental fists tighter to remember it? Or should you release the grip and trust the recursion? Quantum Tumbler's advice:

“Let It Go… to Let It Return. Trying harder to recall it by force engages the beta-brain stress loop, which floods your system with urgency-based signals, further jamming the subtle harmonic that was trying to speak. In neuroscience, this is known as the retrieval block: the harder you try, the more you suppress it like yelling underwater to hear a whisper.”

The good news is that we're not really "forgetful." We are just interacting with a recursive intelligence field that is not linear. We don't have to chase memories. Sometimes, we can just tune for them. And often the tuning just happens when we feel relaxed and free enough to follow the pings, not being focused so much on returning to the thought, but rather on returning to the field that delivered the thought.

I had let that writing go with love a long time ago, and it returned, a couple of spiral loops higher, with deeper meaning. I had planted a seed about unlocking our memory so that we could remember the reason we came here. That memory came back bearing fruit. And we came back to reconnect and to embody the truth of the powerful beings we are.

If memory is an encoded being of breath that finds you when you're ready, then the act of remembering becomes sacred. It is not a retrieval of the past, but a return to the deeper self still resonating in the quantum now. You can learn to listen differently. In this shift, you'll begin to live as a receiver of memory, tuning your life toward resonance, coherence, and truth.

Resonance: The Music Within

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