19 July, 2012
The Reality That Probably Isn't Actually There
I have mentioned on this blog previously of how I believe there is no reality. There is only our realisation of the world, circumstances and so on. There's nothing particularly original about this belief but to expand on this a little I feel a lot of this realisation comes from our unconscious mind.
At times our spirits are raised and at others they are dampened by the way we see the world. Neitsche, for example, was lifted by the mystical visions of a stable universe but depression sunk him into the depths of insanity. Van Gogh saw beauty in nature as a living flame but also became to believe that his miseries would never end, and this drove him to suicide.
We often look for stimulations outside of ourselves to find happiness when real joy comes from within and our attitude and outlook to life.
Everything is as we believe we see it. We might perhaps think of something such as lying in the sunshine in some posh resort in the South of France, while sipping a cool drink, as perfection. But is this really so very different to sunbathing in our own garden or a public park while sipping a cool drink? We see what we see - an attitude of mind.
Colin Wilson wrote about how, 'we are always declaring that things are good or bad, when we merely mean that we are wearing rose-tinted or dark-coloured spectacles.'
But is some of how we see life rooted deep inside, perhaps carried over in the genes from our ancestors or from previous lives? Nature or nurture if you like.
Having a young grandson I observe him much more than probably I did my own children. I see traits that are built into him. He always wants to share for instance. We bought him some bunny rabbit shaped biscuits, only six in a pack, but he wouldn't eat any until he had handed one to his mum and dad and to me and his grandmother. And this was when he was just 18 months old. It's in his nature.
While sitting with him on my own I showed him a £5 banknote, which he held in his hands and looked at deeply. I told him the picture on the back of the note was of Elizabeth Fry. He nodded as if he understood. I then said that on the front of the banknote was a picture of the Queen. He turned the note over, nodded again and pointed to a tin in which my wife keeps some loose coins. The picture on the lid is of a castle. How does he know this? Carried over from a previous life? Or simply me imagining something that isn't there?
Whatever I choose to see it is my reality - the only one there is. How you see it, or anything, is your reality - but there can be dozens, if not thousands, of other versions as well.
Reality is a funny old thing because it probably doesn't exist.
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