I try to explain my relationship with reality

Periodically I like to ponder my relationship with reality. Like, now.

Hey, movie theaters aren't open here in Oregon. My wife and I aren't eager to test our COVID luck by going to a gym or restaurant. My Tai Chi classes are on hold, though this week we started meeting on Wednesday afternoon in a park.

So I've had some extra time to contemplate ways reality and I can improve how we get along.

Of course, the first thing I realized is that the burden of improving the quality of our relationship falls on me, not reality, since I'm the one who is concerned about this, not the big wide wonderful world that exists beyond the confines of my cranium. 

Here's some of my current conclusions on this subject, which are definitely open to change at any moment, including the next one.

(1) When in doubt, look without, not within. I used to be a big fan of "going inside," as the meditation approach I followed for 35 years termed it. Meaning, ignore sensory impressions and focus on what lies within my mind or consciousness. 

Well, now I believe the exact opposite is, in general, a better approach. I feel happier and more grounded when I'm in tune with my physical surroundings. Also, less anxious.

A few minutes ago I watched our dog, who was sitting on our deck, tied to a railing by a leash, watch several deer passing through our rural Oregon yard, munching their way on whatever delicacies (like clover) caught their eye and nose. Our dog found the deer fascinating. I found the whole scene fascinating. 

Way more interesting than looking at the contents of my own mind, though I'm having to do that now as I compose this blog post.

(2) Pay closest attention to the physical now, not a mental past or future. The most real things are here and now. Not long ago this included our dog on the deck and deer in our yard. But now those things are a memory, so they exist only in my mind when I'm remembering them.

Ditto for everything that comes after me typing the word I'm typing now. I have a vague idea of what I want to say next. However, until a thought becomes converted to pixels on my laptop screen, it possesses less substantial reality. 

I often find myself worrying about what might happen in the future, or regretting something that happened in the past. It helps when I shift my attention to what is happening right here, right now. I remind myself that reality is immeasurably more vibrant when it is a concrete physical presence.

Memories. Thoughts. Worries. Anticipations. All the mental stuff inside my head is hugely less substantial. So I do my best to take it less seriously than my immediate physical surroundings.

(3) "Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away." As I've noted in numerous blog posts, and surely will note in more of them, I consider these words by Phillip K. Dick to be the best one-sentence bit of metaphysical philosophizing ever written.

I close my eyes. I stop believing in my MacBook Pro. I open my eyes. My laptop hasn't gone away. I'm sure of this, because my wife would let me know if I possessed the power of making my computer disappear by not believing in it. (If I could do this, rest assured that Donald Trump would disappear from the presidency.)

So what does go away when I stop believing in it? Or more generally, stop any mental activity about it. Notably, the past and future, since they are entirely mental constructs -- leaving aside the time-space continuum posited in Einstein's theory of relativity. 

Yes, the past and future may exist as a concrete reality if time is inextricably linked with space. But I'm not aware of anything other than the physical reality of the present moment. 

(4) Rumi has it right, even in translation. I've grown out of my previous obsession with Rumi, when I devoured every translation of his words I could find in English. Yet I still love this Rumi quotation, which I've committed to memory.

Fear the existence in which you are now!
Your imagination is nothing, and you are nothing,
A nothing has fallen in love with a nothing,
a nothing-at-all has waylaid a nothing-at-all.
When these images have departed,
your misunderstanding will be clear to you.

Wow, so seemingly true. What would reality be like without (a) our imaginings about what reality is like, and (b) our sense that each of us exists as a separate self?

That sense of independent selfhood is part of the imagining that keeps us from really knowing reality. As Rumi says, our imagination and our sense of self have fallen in love with each other. They have waylaid each other.

Yet neither truly exists. They are both nothings, or nothings-at-all. The departure of those images leaves behind... reality. At least, that's my current understanding. Tomorrow, or the next moment, I might look upon things differently. 

Comments

[s*]

Very nice :0)!!!

In mindfullness..one does not believe..
One undergoes..
I love that...
One has not to believe anything..
just because ,as you say,we ca'nt know..
We know nothing..
It's also fun..
Actually living as a child..

[Um]

That is what you get when people grow older :-)

Slowly and steady, in autumn the leaves grow yellow and brown and finally drop down.
If one is aware it might look like a marvel but even if not, it still does happen to all leaves.

Meaning drops .... culture drops .... what remains is nature.

[Jen]

So called 'reality' is what we see, hear, feel and experience with our senses on this planet. If our brain is damaged then our 'reality' changes dramatically. When some of us are old and become senile this is because our faculties are not functioning properly any more. Everything around us is still the same but for the old senile person it becomes confusing and frustrating. So, 'really real reality' is simply created by the brain and its not really real at all.

[S]

“That sense of independent selfhood is part of the imagining that keeps us from really knowing reality. As Rumi says, our imagination and our sense of self have fallen in love with each other. They have waylaid each other.

Yet neither truly exists. They are both nothings, or nothings-at-all. The departure of those images leaves behind... reality. At least, that's my current understanding. Tomorrow, or the next moment, I might look upon things differently.”

This makes sense from a Buddhist oneness perspective but how does it fit into a materialist’s belief system?

[Teo]

Reality is a matter of perspective.

Everything is energy.

What you want to believe in or not believe in is the question.

We used to believe that time was linear and constant. That there was only past, present and future. It’s not intuitive to believe that time can be altered but in reality we live in some kind of weave in which only a sequence of events exists. For many years the question was “What is gravity?” But the question is backwards. We used to think that there was an invisible force that pulls or pushes us against the earth, but really it was just a curvature of space-time. From your perspective, it feels like a force pulling or pushing you down but really it depends on your point of view. Because you could say the earth is movie upwards. Everything is relative.

[Spence Tepper]

The human mind trying to catch reality through the senses and thinking of the human mind is a dog chasing its own tail. Spinning in circles. A dog's circles are spun on the lawn, and the only record, the circles of torn grass on the ground, soon healed by rain and the growth of new grass.

Human beings leave tomes of written circles on electronic blogs that technology records. They inspire others to join them running in circles, chasing their own trails, hungry for the narcissistic view of their own backsides.

[Dungeness]

@ Fear the existence in which you are now!
@ Your imagination is nothing, and you are nothing,
@ A nothing has fallen in love with a nothing,
@ a nothing-at-all has waylaid a nothing-at-all.
@ When these images have departed,
@ your misunderstanding will be clear to you.

The mystic says our attention has become wholly extroverted.
We're entranced with objects seen outside and have forgotten
the observer. Our fabrications of who we are have waylaid us
as Rumi says.

We obsess over the imagery as it flows past 24x7. We exult. We
cry at each passing cinema frame. We have given it our power.

Yet the observer is the real power. Mindfulness looking within at
that power drain can reclaim it. To become aware of the prison
we've built becomes the first step. Awareness cuts a hole in the
wall.

Ironically, the mystic says imagination itself becomes a power
tool in that reclamation project. We listen. We imagine ourselves
repeating a mantra or seeing the form of a teacher, a beloved
friend. All of it inside in imagination.

Like a child absorbed in his inner toy, he can let slowly go of the
chaos and reclaim his lost power... his precious attention. The
same imagination which traps you helps free you.

[Tim Rimmer]

Hi Brian

Nicely put and also cool to see the door being left open ..
I was shockingly brought back to ‘earth’ the other day while working. Inadvertently touched a live wire on the other side of a fence and ‘BOOM’ - didn’t get thrown backwards but man my whole body felt this massive belt (wondered what they were trying to keep in - an elephant?) Been somewhat more ‘electrostatic’ ever since. So the science of positive and negative and the flows between, certainly don’t go away if you stop believing (don't pay attention?) to such things at least in a physical sense.
The great sages Ren and Stimpy pointed this out: ‘Don’t whizz on the electric fence!’