How real it seems, this world of shadows and dreams.
‘Real’ – what point is there in this word, and how many centuries of futile argument has it spawned about what is and is not real? It seems to me the ultimate in foolish questions to ask, what is real? It is the start of a meaningless voyage. Yet I must have asked that question, as I am here.
For how can I tell anything about ‘real’. Everything I perceive is ‘internally constructed’. It is obvious after just a little thought that the light rays hitting my retina and sound waves hitting my ear drum have no meaning to me in themselves. They require interpretation, just as the binary 1′s and 0′s that make up this Post are meaningless unless interpreted and projected onto a monitor. The interpretation creates the meaning, and the meaning is the interpretation.
Even science tells us that information reaches us in electrical signals. From these signals I create my virtual reality, a drama that plays itself out on a stage that I call the universe. But that universe and everything in it is created by me, within me.
Including my body and mind, which are the Theatre itself, as well as actors in the play. For “I” am neither my body, nor my mind, otherwise they would not be my body and my mind.
Hi there Roland^^ How are you?