There is a repeated theme in scifi in which someone attempts to timetravel by jumping forward or backward through time. Interesting as it may seem, this mental phizzyness has nothing to do with the actual properties of time.
The fiction writers have their directions wrong.
If one were really, truly intent on experiencing other times, one must go up or down, through the dimensional levels. Each level experiences time differently, the time clock of each level ticking at slower or faster rates, as do all things associated with the other dimensions.
Intrepid time traveler, this is what you must do.
Imagine yourself a small red bead rolling about on series of concentric gears. You experience reality on the gear in which you were born. There is only one speed for this reality; one tick tock clock that controls everything. But step off the gear onto the next one. Its speed differs. The red bead traveling on this gear has further to go to make a complete circuit.
Do you want to visit your past? Step down a level, let your reality whizz on by and then step back into it. Voila. Your past.
Visiting your future self? Step up one level, run as fast as you can and then drop back down into your reality and visit yourself as an old man.
This example is very simplistic. In truth, if you ride the elevator between dimensions you are just as likely to go whizzing sideways as up or down, with a few dips and swoops thrown in for excitement, not unlike a roller coaster ride. When you arrive, who knows where you are in relationship to your own reality.
Perhaps you have slipped sideways, like Alice in the Looking Glass, to a place that exists just around an eighth dimensional corner where time does not exist at all and the thought of visiting yourself in your future is considered ridiculously gauche.
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