Our Concept of Real Is Not Reality
"Reality" - Our Word for Illusion
Illusion is something that Santa Claus and reality have in common. Both are our minds' constructs and a reflection of our deep need for a comfort zone made up of certainties. We choose to believe in goodness blessing us with all sorts of gifts from heaven - in this version arriving down the chimney.
Much more than that, we choose to trust our limited senses and minds as we interpret their computation of perceptions as "reality". Well, why not, you say, we've got to believe in "something". Ultimately, it's all a part of a divine show, and it might even pass for a good comedy if we didn't take it so damn seriously.
Somehow, what's happening between our hearts and our minds gets lost in translation, and we are stuck with all wrong illusions - just because our mind keeps telling us that our perception is accurate, and our logic is universally valid for all of us.
We just can't allow for a possibility that we don't experience the factual reality - but our interpretations of it. We may perceive the same thing, and agree upon it to the effect of claiming it to be "real", but we don't see how we are still only agreeing upon an illusion.
Creators by our predestination we forget to create new illusions, new interpretations, new logic, the one that could be cherished so much more by our hearts than those which are so obviously taking us nowhere.
Loving and Rejoicing by Calendar
Since we found it so necessary to have a celestial "script-writer", why did we have to scare ourselves with him so much, rather than welcome him in the club of creators - his department to him, and our department to us?
If we wanted to envision him as perfect, we could let him do those perfect things in the universe - while allowing ourselves to be imperfect and not mix his realm with ours. That way we could have our Santa, and all other illusory traditions, creating even new stories that would cheer up our imperfect hearts.
The Santa's annual parade somewhat helps to revive that spirit of love and faith. At least everyone is cheering while making themselves look ridiculous by commenting about him to their tiny kids, as if they would really like to believe what they are saying.
O.K., now, don't take me wrong, I have nothing against the fat dude, I used to be a part of the cheering crowd myself. But, what really tickles me to laughter is the fact that we needed to be told what is the right time of the year for us to thaw our frozen, zombie hearts and allow ourselves such a massive festivity advertising love, harmony, and of course - best gifts to buy.
Like Elvis Used to Sing: "Why Can't Every Day Be like Christmas?"
As you know, that parading is of a short duration, followed by so called "January Blues". You've got it right - it's originally "February blues", but you tell me, who can really wait till February to start feeling lousy after all that excitement, over-eating, partying, and the spirit of love ends up looking somewhat like that dead Christmas tree sticking out of the trash bin.
"Divine Comedy", coined that way long time ago by Dante Alighieri seems so proper name for the illusions we cherish. Was he by any chance the first quantum physicist after the Buddha and Jesus to clap and laugh, while entertained by the sight of bunch of clowns with a sad make up performing in the theatre called life?
Could We Make up Some Better Illusions?
Now really, whom are we really kidding with all this farce about stress and self-inflicted suffering? How much longer will it take to the smart beings like ourselves to realize how we are the only directors and script-writers, in our lives, so we could create some better illusions than the ones which make us wallow in tears, sweat, and blood?
Something that would include rainbows and flowers and butterflies - and I don't mean those in the stomach. Maybe some romantic skies sprinkled with diamonds, instead of heavens polluted by all kinds of deities and celestial personnel that can't make up their minds whether to love us unconditionally or punish us.
Wait, I Am Not Done Yet Rubbing It In
In the hollywoods of our minds we seem to be such able masters to produce untold varieties of dramas, tragedies, and soap operas - but we are failing so miserably to make laughter so contagious that even our gods would join us laughing.
We cherish only those illusions that give us stress and psychosomatic ailments, and plenty to complain about. And we can't even experience the divine without inventing so many different gods, just to get an additional excuse to hate each other, mock each other, before killing each other.
Creating "Reality" Is a Team Work
Someone in the circles of those brainiacs managed to figure out that our brain processes 400 billion pieces of information per second - and we are conscious of only some 20,000. What is the rest of those billions doing after regulating body's functioning?
In my modest opinion, they are co-creating the virtual reality in form of our collective consciousness. You know what I mean, every species have theirs - so we see a flock of birds and a swarm of bees flying in that perfect unison, without bumping into each other, while being "tuned into" their collective consciousness.
Our particular collective consciousness allows us that everyone sees "green" the same way - those with brown eyes and those with blue ones equally - just kidding. That also goes for the range of sound frequencies that we all can hear as humans - of course, except for us older farts who have lost some of it after hearing too much nonsense in our long lives.
The point being that on a certain invisible realm of events we are collectively creating our reality, and that existential confusion in each one of us is lavishly contributing into the collective confusion, so that we are having a world as we have it - congratulations everyone, myself including!
You probably read somewhere the true story about "The hundredth monkey". Some of you may even know where I am going with this, but let me say it just the same. Allegedly, on a remote Japanese island some monkeys hit upon an idea to start washing their potatoes before eating them.
Then soon after, someone - who obviously had nothing better to do - noticed how on another island the same kind of monkeys started doing the same, without a possibility of monkeys from both islands getting in any contact with each other.
The story makes valid the earlier mentioned theory about collective consciousness within each species. Now, a big hope is sticking out of all this that perhaps some day a "critical mass" of intelligence is achieved on this planet to affect the whole humankind.
Wouldn't that be great? One day we all wake up and for no apparent reason we are in harmony with each other, helpful, compassionate, accepting, tolerating even those biggest individual differences. And there is a celebration of life, something like a "Christmas in July", with everyone willing to contribute to the dignity of our kind.
Can you see what I am doing here? Just hoping that somewhere yet another hundredth human gets inspired to do what I am doing - creating a better illusion for myself to cherish.