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.
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16 comments:
Wonderful post, Marylinn. The 'truth' perhaps lies in our dreams, our truths that is, but how are we to discern them? Somehow hopefully they ripple through when we explore these dreams as you do here.
I relish this endless struggle to get to the 'truth' and dread the thought that one day any of us might believe we have found it.
To me, truth is something we can only occasionally glimpse if we're lucky, but then it's gone and we're off in search of new truths again. And as you say how much any of these truths relate to so-called reality is anyone's guess, because, of course, we then have the question: whose reality?
Thanks Marylinn.
Have you ever read Sheldon Kopp's book, "If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill him?"
Laoch completely distracted me to the point that...what was I saying?
gosh, marylinn--i love this 'stuff' and the way you talk about this 'stuff.' it is central to what a lot of us are churning over, and yet you articulate your thought process so nicely. i think prob we all see a slightly different facet of this prism we call reality--and maybe truth is the light that each facet refracts... (ok; shoot me now. but maybe you know what i'm saying?)
also: just gotta say, i know exactly what that feels like to give a written character taken from reality a stand-in name because you cant remember his/her real name--it just *doesnt* feel right. you can't see the person. and then when the real name worms its way to the surface: voila!
thanks so much; i love your posts!
--susan
I'm with Elisabeth, a wonderful post, on so many levels. You expressed my own thoughts on the perception of reality and the quest for "truth", if such a construct even exists. Thank you, again.
Elisabeth - Thank you...I think what has brought this so much to mind is being confronted relentlessly with the "awfulizing" of situations, which may be reality, but knowing that if we keep our own counsel, we need not buy into it. That our country is facing financial crises does not mean I will starve. It is a shifting landscape, no mistake, but one in which I think we do each get to find our own way and make from that our own truth. A juicy, significant topic and I appreciate your contribution.
Laoch - No, I haven't read it, though I do know of it. Did the book have resonance for you? Having just read the description, isn't it all a journey of self-discovery, unless one is either complacent or perfect? I have added the title to my list, thanks.
Antares Cryptos - Catch up with you later. :)
Susan - Thank you. I'm really glad to know we both have that giant tilt sign flashing when we try to give a real person a made-up name. I thought I'd have to chuck the whole piece.
I think we are talking about the same thing. The fact that we each, as I see it, have a unique interpretation of both truth and reality means we will never mirror exactly anyone else's vision. But it is - whether due to our internal time or the times around us - a matter of urgency to find a solid core upon which to rely, a place which we know will be steady during upheaval. And we will, I think, have to create it for ourselves.
Antares Cryptos - Thank you...I don't know if truth resides in the outer world but I feel it is a quality we can establish within, if that makes any sense. And I realize I could have this all wrong, a form of unidentified dyslexia, but I intend to keep looking, keep checking.
B and I go waaay back. B being I am lovable. I was taught the opposite at such a young age an age before I could speak I was taught B while still an egg. It's a life going battle to untie its knots but I haven't given up on the work mad (no not mad that word is much too twee for me) wrong wired bipolar manic depressed shell shocked or not I haven't given up trying to untie it. I suppose that's it then. Once I discover the secret I'll be dead. Hahaha.
love and love to you,
Rebecca
ps. This created a density through which much that is desired cannot flow rings out like a gong in my head. Thank you. I have forgotten to think about flow lately and it's a place I need to remember.
Rebecca - That is B,the one that I know. I've missed a lot of buses, worrying over those knots. Still, here we are and I think we may outsmart them in the end. While alive. Love to you. M.
Rebecca - Subversive action, characters out of THE DAM BUSTERS, would give flow a fighting chance. xo
I am glad you liked the suggestion - it goes further,
that those who live on the liminal edges are the ones that steer the rest of us.. the brave ones who can go there AND return.
You do that every day.
Denise - What a beautiful compliment, thank you. The closest I come to saying why I do any of what I do is that it seems to be the next indicated thing. xo
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