If reality were to exist, what would it be like?

Most people are pretty confident that they know what reality is. Many, however, do not believe that others know what they know. Some say there is no reality. This, of course, just translates into the statement, ‘In reality, there is no reality’. Really?

On the other hand, people who would blush at not knowing the name of the captain of some football team, are quite confident to ask, ‘What is reality? Who can say?’ and be content to leave it as an open question. This is fine, so long as the question does not intrude itself.

But sometimes the question of reality does intrude itself. ‘Does she really love me?’ If we have ever had a misperception, and realised our mistake, we have established a relativity of reality. We have accepted that what we thought was real, was not. We measure this against some more certain standard of reality. Once we have yielded to this temptation, we can no longer assert with any assurance that we may not have replaced one error with another. We are certain of this reality. But we were certain of the previous reality, until something changed our mind. With what greater certainty can we assert this current view?

Alan Watts entitled one of his books, ‘The Wisdom of Insecurity’. I confess I bought the book, then lost it before I could read it. But the title remains. Once we have passed through the portal of doubt, and are able to question our own perception of reality, we have reached the first stage of Socratic Knowledge: we know that we do not know. Really to feel this sense of doubt, called Existential Doubt, is a terrifying experience. Better just to think about it.

Reality is closely linked to truth. In fact, it is the search for certainty, (and if there is an ultimate reality, certainty must surely be one of its attributes), that gives truth its urgency. It is not just about keeping your word, or telling the truth, or not actually breaking the law. As we approach truth, (perhaps on an asymptotic curve), so do we approach reality. We have discussed that our perception might be mistaken. Even if we do not go so far as to believe that all that we experience is a fabrication of the mind, we must surely admit that we retain some illusions. As my squint, Belgian, Philosophy professor used to say to me, his good eye enlarged by his monocle, ‘But Meester Meetchelle, I ‘ave my prejudices’. Truth dispels illusion, just as paper trumps rock, or scissors, paper. Even the most conceited of atheists, Bertrand Russell, confessed that, if we accepted the idea of creation, there would be no logical refutation of the proposition that the entire universe was created a moment ago, complete with records. There really is no proof that things exist independently of our perception of them, because all proof is filtered via our perception.

Russell’s observation is nicely illustrated in the making of the film ‘The Ten Commandments’. The set was created, complete with Pyramids and Sphinx, in the Arizona desert. When the film was complete, the set was abandoned. About 30 years later, archaeology students excavated the site, discovering historical records which were created in modern times. In the same way, we may ‘remember’ memories which our own minds have constructed. Just kidding. Or maybe not.

Carlos Castaneda in ‘A Separate Reality’, talked about a warrior’s folly. The warrior understood that he could not change the way things were, understood that his perception of reality was just a perception, but he still behaved as though things were real. We have to. It is the only way to remain sane. The courage comes in doing so, knowing that they are not.

Questions of the nature of reality lead to questions of existence and quickly devolve to questions about time. This is because we perceive reality sequentially, like the frames of a reel of film. Interesting that the film has already been shot before we view it, and that our perception of the film is simply a matter of seeing the light pass through it, like Plato’s cave. But as soon as we think of existence, we have to think of some sort of time frame. What was there before things existed? This is why Kant began with space and time as the two accepted starting points of his cosmology. Of course, our subjective experience of time varies vastly against chronology. Studies have been done on ‘expected duration’. If we wait more than five seconds for a dial tone, we put down the phone and start again. For an elevator, we’ll wait, say, forty five seconds before we press the button a second time. For a tax refund, we’ll wait a year.

To quote William Blake:

To see a World in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

If life hereafter is eternal, then, since eternity has no beginning, we were already in existence before this life. How that life was, we may not remember, but we cannot confirm its absence.

Macbeth said,
….‘that but this
Blow might be the be-all and the end-all -; here,
But here upon this bank and shoal of time,
We’d jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgement here, that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague th’inventor.’….

There is a bit of an unresolved paradox for me in the view that we exist but in this fleeting moment on the earth. To say that a belief in eternal life is a comfort, is no comfort. If life were to end with our mortal death, there would be no consequences of our actions beyond what judgements may be made here, on this bank and shoal of time. Eternal life is far more terrifying because there is no escape. If our consciousness ended with our death, we could choose a good day, and die. There would be an end to it. We could have no regrets and, provided our passing were tranquil, there would be no loss. But if our awareness is eternal, there can be no escape.

Interestingly, Rupert the Bear was created by the wife of the editor of ‘The Times.’ Although the cartoon was popular, people began to complain that, whenever Rupert got into a tight spot, a magic genie would whisk him away. People could not believe in that, and the writing of the stories was handed over to another. In Greek tragedies the ‘deus ex machina’ – the god hiding in a box on the stage – would come and rescue the hero. Yet, people who do believe that consciousness ends with death, have a tenacity to life that denies them this escape, and to some extent, denies their belief.

If I remember it correctly, Spinoza said, ‘We feel and we know that we are eternal’. I do not claim he is right, but what he says is nicely illustrated in the film, ‘The Matrix’. Even though Neo’s whole experience of his consciousness is a computer-created fantasy, something within him stirs to make him uneasy. He feels, and he knows, that there is a greater reality behind the one he experiences on a daily basis. He has an involuntary impulse to move towards the discovery of that more real reality.

From infancy, we first learn to perceive the illusion. That gives us the tools to start to clarify our perception. In adolescence we have a second chance to re-organize our perceptions. For the rest of our lives, we can continue to clarify our perception of reality, if we want.

How do I define ‘reality’? A definition is merely a boundary put around something you know is there. No definition will enable you to know what is there. It is not a matter of defining reality, but of being real, of learning to see it for yourself. If you ask me who I am, I cannot tell you. If you really want to know who I am you must spend time with me.

A final quote from G Spence Brown in ‘Laws of Form’:

To arrive at the simplest truth, as Newton knew and practised, requires years of contemplation. Not activity. Not reasoning. Not busy behaviour of any kind . Not reading. Not talking. Not making an effort. Not thinking. Simply bearing in mind what it is one needs to know ….’

And that’s the Truth.

© John Mitchell 08 05 08