Objective Reality Does Not Exist – Get over it!

The Flowers are Real

purple garden flowers in a vase
Flowers do exist objectively – but can only be perceived subjectively.

My assertion that objective reality does not exist does not in any way indicate that I do not believe in God or divine revelation. However, it is vital that we recognize and accept that our understanding of what is real and our evaluation of that reality, by logic or by sensual experience, will always be subjective. Some contend that an objective reality does exist outside of our perception of it and that is not what I contest here. I don’t pretend that the neighborhood I live in no longer exists when I am not there to perceive it. But I cannot either suggest that my perception of my neighborhood will be the same as the perception my own neighbor may have of it, filtered through our very subjective and individual lenses. I don’t deny the reality, but I do deny that knowledge of it could ever in any way be objective.

Beings Limited by Space and Time

shadow figure of man and dog standing before a starry sky and bright full moon
We are bound by space and time.

We are beings limited by space and time and perception. Recognizing those limits and that they restrict all of us in one way or another, should allow us to open our minds to each other. We all move through life as journeymen, born and raised in varied circumstance. To be here, we experienced birth and to leave here we will experience death. But that’s where the commonality of our journey ends. Regardless, the struggle should draw us closer. This blog is part of my journey and an attempt to share aspects of my experience with the nebulae, the multitudes formed of cloud dust seeking to understand purpose and living simply and humbly in the meanwhile.

Why didn’t I speak?

The Unsaid

Some things are better left unsaid. But how to un-think? Just because I haven’t spoken doesn’t change the reality. Or does it? It might alter others’ perception of me but not my awareness of myself. Words unspoken linger in the mind building bridges to no escape, towers and tunnels. They burrow and twist, torturous thoughts sharp-pointed, incessant. There is no escape from me. I am who I am because I was who I was and it shapes my will be.

Countless times I choose not to speak. I see the opportunity drift past, a window open and wide…inviting. If I jump through, I fall somewhere else, at a slightly different angle or sometimes on a different path altogether. It’s like a portal to another me. I hold my tongue and watch the portal pass, wondering if I made the right choice. Should I have spoken? Or more importantly, why didn’t I speak? My thoughts are still there, whether anyone else realizes it or not. My thoughts are still there, but there is no trail for anyone else to follow. I’m a ghost there and a ghost here.

A Coward or Cautious?

muslim woman standing before a tall tree with a large bird concealed within the branches
In silence…

I could define myself a coward, afraid and unwilling to announce my point of view. I could define myself as cautious, careful to observe and measure my words appropriately. Perhaps I am a cautious coward altogether. It’s so much safer to hide in my thoughts…or, is it? In my thoughts, un-tethered, I risk drifting.  But, never too far. For here in my thoughts at the core, my faith does prevail immutable. I know You watch over me. I lean on You, revolve around You, a pilgrim, hallowed in purpose. With You as my center, I am never alone. With You as my center, I can’t possibly lose my self  from myself. Silence doesn’t mean that I have nothing to say, it means some things are better left unsaid.