I Know Where I Am

This whole thing isn’t really happening — I mean physical material “reality.“ This is a metaphor. It’s a dream. I can think of many words for this illusion, this perspective that we have a collective agreement about. It is like a theatrical play. It’s a story or a lesson. Really, it’s a Game. I don’t know how I can feel this so strongly when everyone around me says it’s real. I myself think it’s a farce, but I don’t mean that in a snide way. I think it’s pretty cute. I think it’s funny most of the time and sort of adorable.

We say we don’t like the “drama” of reality, but that isn’t true. I think we love it. We love to play the Game. We love the linear roller coaster of time’s illusions. We love these ups and downs. We love our relationship madness. We have so many emotional ties to the Game; we have so much conviction. We’re addicted to this Game. For the time that we are playing it, we know nothing else.

Rightfully, we also adore nature, the physical world — the beauty, the magnificence, the mysterious playground of sensations. Our imaginations are the most creative to have created such a place. This is how and “where“ we learn, but we keep forgetting that. We keep forgetting why we are in the playground in the first place: to experience the experience of the Game. This is it, baby, this is where it’s at — this is the best Game in town. Stop avoiding pain — that’s a life unlived! Mistakes are the stepping stones on the pathway and pain is the catalyst and transformer; to avoid it is impossible anyway. Screw your pain — how else are you going to level up in the Game?

The wind outside is howling. It plays against my window, thundering like timpani in the London symphony, but I remain undeterred …I know I am in a dream.