Reality: An Inescapable Eternity, Or A Failed Century-long Experiment

Ezra Ryder,
Citizen of The World

"Reality" - the word feels so concrete, like tiling under my feet, or a stable branch in my hand. But reality, like the telegraph, the styrofoam cup, and the eight-hour workday, is an experiment founded in the industrial revolution that has run its course and been found wanting.

As we, stuck in this terrible cycle, look at folklore of the past, we find its claims hard to believe. Sasquatch? Walking like a god among the old growth trees? Unlikely, surely he's not that blurry in real life. The Thunderbird riding a massive storm? Impossible. Birds like that died off years ago. How would they sustain themselves without being hunted to death? Angels, Atlantis, Ancient Assyrian cities of gold. Downright laughable you say, and I agree. The only difference is my chuckle is a knowing one. The impossible only appears that way because we have forgotten how to look. Our eyes are not the only sensory organs we possess, though we may have forgotten that. Seeing may be believing, but more importantly, believing is seeing. For a very long time, human beings coexisted with myths, legends, and things far stranger than what you might spot at a Walmart at 3 am. Where did those things go? For those of us with the right kind of eyes, they went nowhere. The only difference is the change in the nature of belief. If you would go on a hunt for a thunderbird, you’d never find one. They’re not something to be measured, only felt.

Don't believe me? I understand. Our lives are cushy here in the Pioneer Valley. We do not need to alter our reality with our minds, and as such have long forgotten the times when that skill was necessary. When it rains, we go inside. When the sun comes out, we put on sunscreen. If it is cold, we put on the heat.

You may have never seen a thunderbird in person, and I accept that, but stand in the middle of the rocky desert as a wall of clouds fills every inch of the sky to the west, flashing bolts of lightning a hundred miles long, and you may feel yourself changing your mind. And that feeling matters. We forget that. In a world of measured minutes, timeclocks, and tachometers, it’s hard to remember that there was a time when belief kept us alive just as much as our own two feet & eyes. In the depth of a storm, miles from help, and miles more from shelter, that feeling returns. When one is feeling smaller than a speck of dust in the eye of god, it does someone good to give the god’s blind hands a chance for benevolence. Or even give one hands to start with. It's easy to spot a thunderbird there, where the will of nature shows you how small you are. It is easy to change your mind when you can no longer change your situation.

[For an alternate view on this matter, see A Dream is Simply a Wasted 8 Hour Rest Cycle]

For more articles by Ezra Ryder, click here. To get in touch with this writer, email ryder.ezra@surrealtimes.net.

POST A COMMENT

See Also

Want to read more news? Click here for a random article.