None of this is real.
Our existence, at its most basic level, is the time-delayed, distorted interpretation by a paranoid imperfect brain of grossly incomplete sensory input.
These interpretations are filtered through risk-averse, judgmental, scared thoughts until they reach what we, with some hubris, call ‘consciousness’ or ‘me’.
You know… the thing that makes us way more worthwhile than that dog over there, which spends their day frolicking around, playing with tennis balls and sitting on shady porches watching the world go by.
My life as of late has become buried in the amorphous swirl of impending change. As we know, our minds do not like change. We also do not like things to remain the same. We screw ourselves both ways. Balance is important.
Here’s what I know.
My dad is sick.
He has Parkinson’s.
He’s dedicated his entire life to making visual art, and now his hands shake so much he can’t draw without super intense concentration.
If I wasn’t an atheist, I might file that under the irony category.
Here’s what else I know.
I’ve only ever lived in New York City my entire life, and now we pack to leave it.
To be fair, I’ve been over the city for awhile. I’m over the noise, the speed, the indifference, the twisted pride people feel about surviving here, the grind, the lack of eye contact, the muchness of it all.
I’m excited to be going on an adventure with someone I love.
I’m excited to see what Deeper Context ends up being, now that I will be in a new environment.
I’m excited to figure out which habits I can let go of, and to find more freedom in (and from) this shared illusion we generously call reality.
It all contributes to the swirly feeling, though.
But of course, that’s not real either.
Share your illusion with me in the comments?
Featured image credit: Lady Liberty in Fog by srslyguys, on Flickr