I have this very abstract idea. The analogy is this:

The Sun does not actually move around me, rise and set. Rather it is the
surface I am standing on which revolves.
Time does not actually pass inexorably from the future into the past.
Rather it is the present where I reside which moves.

If I can leave the surface of the earth, why can I not leave the surface
of the present?

Memory is just imagining with some inference: I can see the vague
impression that the past has left on the present. From that I infer both
the past and the future.

To leave the surface of the earth, I must overcome gravity, a force which
is accepted by my animal mind as absolute, but which is really just an
arbitrary vector of limited power and scope.

What force constrains me to the surface of the present? How do I overcome
it?

To overcome gravity even temporarily and fly is an exhilarating experience
which provides new perspectives and greater freedom (and danger) than is
to be found on the ground. To break completely free of gravity and enter
orbit or even move off into deep space is to enter an utterly unfamiliar
world where much that we take for granted is absent or changed. Even
surviving away from the Earth is a fantastically difficult proposition.

What is it like to overcome the force which holds us in the present? Is it
dangerous? What happens if we become completely detached from the present?
Where could we then go? How limited would the perspectives of those mired
in the present then seem?

There is a lot of thought given and material written on the subject of
life on other worlds; whether it exists, what it could/would be like,
whether we can communicate with it, and why we haven’t met any yet, in a
universe which produced us and our world, why isn’t there anyone else?

What about other ‘presents’? If there is a present ‘plane’ to which we are
stuck, why can’t there be more than one? What might we find on other
presents? Should we expect to have heard from other presents?