What have I done lately? In one portion of last night's dream, I introduced a new religion. My presentation consisted of taping glittered paper in vaguely Christmas shapes to the meeting room wall and telling people things I'm sure they already knew. Yet they welcomed me and what I told them as an affirmation of what they suspected. Their reception was friendly and attentive. They helped with the taping. The shapes, scissor-cut from glossy, solid-color gift wrap, were mostly Christmas stockings, though some were just rectangles with a band of glitter across one end. Pretty flimsy material for an evangelical pitch.
Internal debate, Part One: Is it more difficult to (A) believe a new concept or to (B) unbelieve an old, fixed notion which was never true, has never brought any measure of strength or reassurance and has, generally, created a density through which much that is desired cannot flow? Answer is (B). Part Two: Can one be courageous and cautious at the same time without being a weenie? Answer is not known. Mobility issues cause me to retreat from situations in which I fear I may be unsafe in my unsteadiness. This impairs my quality of life. I wish to be safe and unafraid. The perfect recipe is still being worked out.
My mind surprised me this week with a name I was sure had been lost. For a piece I'm writing, I wished I could remember the real name of one of my subjects. Calling her Mrs. G (which I knew wasn't right) made me cringe. I could see it on the page, draining all the juice out of the story with its falseness. Then from nowhere, not a flash, not a big deal, she was Mrs. Welsh and I thought, oh yes, of course. And thanked out loud whatever bearer of pixie dust made that happen.
This might be where the truth versus reality discussion is introduced, not completed, just begun. It is a topic of such scope for me that I am wary of taking it on at all but it is central to what I believe and to the choices I make. In a comment on the last posting, Denise referred to modern shamans as being able to step between realities and being called mad. Simply told, my definition of truth may well be what resides outside reality, the everyday life in a media, politics and money-driven construct that has nothing to do with our essential selves. What I see as reality has no provision for the spirit; it makes no allowance for intuitive existence, a life fueled by the heart as a source of quiet clarity. Reality is demanding and linear with abrupt, jutting angles; truth rolls in on unchartable currents, delivers its message and departs. Reality has evidence, it has facts, even statistics. Truth is an unprovable knowing.
Since I think about this all the time, I'll probably keep jousting with it. It is as important as, "We hold these truths to be self-evident..." Notice we said truths. No one mentioned reality.