Seeking Realization

There is a mental pitfall of instinctively viewing other people as autonomous beings. In the way of viewing a nature documentary where creatures are examined as forces simply “doing what they do, because that’s what they are”. I see other people display mastery of a craft or achieve some sort of victory or status or… anyone in proximity… only then do I notice them. And thus, attention is only focused on that aspect: the fascinating point of arrival. The journey it took to get there and the ongoing thought process behind each of their decisions remains obscured as a vague estimation. After all, how could all that I haven’t actually experienced be accurately filled in with mere imagination? I may only assume what I don’t experience.

I remember, in adolescence, feeling like I am the only actual conscious or even “real” being in existence and everyone else is just an autonomous entity on a preset path, predictable output based on input, their buttons and levers visible, all laid out by the mechanism which initiated this reality (something like the argument against free will I suppose). I see this view being resultant of simply being disconnected from the internal operations of others, only able to experience my own. And even though I remain confined to only ever directly experiencing my own inner thought process and flow of energy, it’s naive to think no other human has similar conscious operation of their being. Some may interact with this mechanism of human being more or less or differently, but it exists nonetheless.

I remember sharing this naive worldview with someone. I forgot what initially prompted this or who said what first exactly but, she also shared how she often feels like life is a dream—that none of this is real, even right now, here on this beach with me… any moment she may wake up old and shriveled on her death bed, realizing it was all a dream. I thought it was silly but valid. Silly, in the sense that I am contrarily committed to feeling how real this all is, of course it is, I am here now experiencing this… but valid, in the sense that I see why someone would feel that way, I am no stranger to being there… Eventually I connected the dots between past and recent traumas she had experienced and the phenomenon of feeling disconnected from reality being a common trauma response. I can relate to experiencing moments of feeling like what I am experiencing is not real—usually in moments of intense pain or ecstasy. In fact I vividly remember feeling such a way upon feeling so intensely loved by her. Even now I sometimes wrestle with how “real” various aspects of those moments were…

What is “Real”?

Is this reality a simulation? Is an idea fake? “oh it’s not real it’s just in your head”… This plastic apple is fake but certainly, it’s really something—it does exist. It does affect. It really is a piece of plastic shaped like an apple. Each of these things are undoubtedly effective parts of our experience. It’s just called fake in the sense of being something other than what it appears to be—something posing as or attempting to convince that it is something other than what it actually is—but it IS existent. Sometimes things are accused of being fake because the accuser is simply confused, mistaking it for something else, despite there being no attempt to deceive. Imagine someone exclaiming “who do they think they are?!” assuming someone is trying to be something they actually aren’t (though, isn’t that how someone becomes?) meanwhile, the accused person doesn’t even have any solid unwavering concept of themselves, openly perceiving and exploring what they may be…. anyway, that happens…—but I’m not speaking of any specific instance, it’s just a hypothetical which now exists in your mind. It is experienced. It affects.

I Feel it all more Visceral—More Raw, as this Instance Ages

The longer I live and the deeper I explore, I am realizing. There are still times I feel like the moment is unreal—which, once again, is usually during states of intense pain or ecstasy—moments where it seems too good or bad to be true… But more and more, I am convinced that the phenomenon of derealization being characteristic of adolescence (or rather, inexperience) and trauma as well as to fill the gaps of what can’t be explained… implies the opposite end of the spectrum: that more experience, healthy nervous system and deeper understanding comes with realization—becoming increasingly aware of how real it all is…

I recently noticed that the aspect I seek in my common practices (exercise, yoga, painting, writing, making music…) is developing a sense of being fully immersed in the present moment and rendering more details of whatever I am experiencing. These mediums are means of realization.

I’m reminded of Alan Watts detailing an eastern tradition of preparing a human for death by relinquishing all material and social attachments, as death is a parting away from all of this that we experience. It is a very conscious facilitation of the process. There was also mention of a man Alan met who, in sight of inevitable detachment— consciously sought to live life attaching himself to as much as he could—to fully indulge, appreciate and behold all that there is to, in this life. Yes, there is pain in being ripped from something you love so dearly. But I think there is wisdom in acknowledging that the intensity of the pain implies the intensity of love and to accept them as two sides of the same coin. Perhaps even wiser if I am able to navigate gracefully in loving as fully as possible while freely letting go whenever it is time to…

I’m inspired to let it all be more real, to feel it all more fully, as much as I can before the concentration of this experience is relinquished. To take it seriously. To find peculiarity to cherish and cherish it all the more in acknowledgement of ephemerality. Everything is visiting, in constant transition, perpetual motion… how peculiar to share alignment of a moment. Increased realization makes it all more visceral—accepting how real the good is means accepting how real the bad is. That’s why it is instinctively shy’d away from. Realization tempts obliteration of the soul—to honestly consider the people lost can no longer be spoken to… to realize that there are consequences… whether good or bad, navigable or irreversible—there are consequences—the game is really being played and I’m a participant—the risk is real—I am mid leap over a bottomless pit with ambition to land safely on the other side…

I delight in playing the game while I can, in view of complete unburden on the horizon.

Maybe intense sensation unrealizes as the vibration shifts structure of our matter’s typical composition—a stark deviation from what is typically experienced…