Are Reality and Significance Subjective?

If one watches US news, Al Jazeera, BBC and France 24 it would he hard to conclude no. Because the narration of reality and its significance to the participants presented therein differ widely. This is a mark of subjectivity as opposed to an objective reality. France 24 today had a debate about Trump’s off the cuff remark about the ethnic cleansing of Gaza. One man’s conquest is another’s brutal ethnic cleansing. One man’s real estate project is another’s exile and abject misery. These realities are not co-realities. A business deal to Trump is less significant than an irreversible life change for another and what is left of their family. Significance is in the context and the eye of the beholder and is not absolute.

The reality of a 9 to 5 job safe and secure in the city where one has kudos and power changes abruptly with a plane crash in the jungle. The hungry leopard does not defer to the fat cat boss over the manual worker. It sees dinner. The boss is easier to eat than the serf. In terms of economy, it selects the most calorific and facile.

Our normal realities are not as secure as we imagine, a mammogram or a prostate exam can flip our worlds in well under an hour. Yet we imagine in our complacency that our “reality” applies and continues to do so.

I am fond of multiple universes or put less dramatically, differing assimilations of “reality”.

My reality today is markedly different than it was 20 years ago. I do not walk in those circles and am not obsessed about the reality-metrics which apply therein for the measurement of success. I do not give a shit about research assessment exercises or student satisfaction feedback surveys. My main concerns are health and the bloody Coypu. My reality is wholly different and significance for me has changed vastly. Which suggests that reality and significance are in a way, time dependent. They are certainly spatially dependent. I no longer occupy that physical plane space; my reality has changed.

A socially acceptable narrative for me is that I was doing OK, then had burn out, and chucked my toys out of the cot. I dabbled a bit with science tutoring and then retired to France. I am now socially isolated and quasi-hermitic. This is largely lacking any wider significance, there are few implications. My impact on the world was short-lived and very local.

Based solely on dream “evidence” and subjective vision alongside this version of reality is that I have partial recall of prior lives inter alia a few as a Buddhist priest/monk. This in itself is not overly significant. It is the sort of thing one might say after a spliff or two.

“Hey man I can remember my life as a Thai Buddhist practising something like Muay Thai.”

“Far out Bro! I always thought you were spiritual.”

Of course this could all be made up hippy-trippy stuff.

People tend to choose the contextual framing of any “reality” to suit that which is most convenient for them to assimilate the world with.

I have been reading Anatole Le Braz today. He has compiled folk stories from the immediate area and they have been fun to read. In one such story a young woman of “friendly” morals had seven children. She dies as does her brood. She is doomed to spend purgatory near her erstwhile home as a sow with seven black piglets. After several interactions that went badly, the locals decided that if they encounter said sow and brood, they should cross the road.

Likewise, the souls of the dead can spend earth bound purgatory as crows.

If you and I were out and about on a misty Breton night and I mentioned the latter “fact”, and even if you were a rational omniscient scientist, a surprise meeting with a pair of crows might unsettle you. If I started to talk with those crows even though you could not hear their reply, you might brick it, a little. You might suspect that I was taking the piss, but you would not be sure despite all your omniscience. I could wind you up or simply laugh at your predicament with the crows. When they laughed back a shiver would go down your spine.

Out of context at your work desk in daylight your encounter with souls trapped in earth corvid purgatory would no longer seem an optional reality. They were just crows.

The assimilated reality is often highly subjective…

Two crows on a misty crossroad at dead of night are more significant than a deskbound recollection whilst dining al-desko.

What you deem significant might only be significant in your little world. This is not a thought which many entertain as they are often self-obsessed and fail to empathise with the wider world. As a consequence, people might miss something with much wider significance after all the fluff in the navel is tantamount.

Just because you don’t understand it or are unfamiliar with it does not mean that other realities are less real than yours. They may be separate but you would be a bigot to deny them if you have not as yet experienced them.

Are Reality and Significance Subjective?

A big fat yes from me…

Renunciation or Self-Sabotage?

The human ability to kid oneself is well known though for those kidding, difficult to accept. At the moment there are many who deem the slaughter in Gaza justifiable and apt. They do not imagine any karmic consequences because that notion would be very inconvenient. Irrespective of how things are temporarily brought to a close, there will be consequences ongoing.

The normal idea of success in the “West” might be to have a good career, make progress, climb the housing ladder and perhaps have a relationship or marriage and thence to propagate the species. One might like a nice car and pleasant foreign holidays. Perhaps gaining some measure of societal kudos along the way. One would not sulkily throw one’s toys out of the cot; one would comply more or less to the norm. Psychology might point you in this direction.

If for example you are a bodhisattva called Siddartha Gautama, it would be OK to run out on a young wife and child, leave the palace of your father the King and renounce the kingdom to which you are heir. But for normal people this would be wrong.

Viewed from one angle this is an ungrateful act of wanton self-sabotage. Siddhartha shot himself in the foot and abandoned a pleasant life, one which many might aspire to. To the starving, the poor and the unshod this makes no sense. Yet according to legend this subsequently facilitated his teaching and his completion of the career goal of any bodhisattva, namely enlightenment and Buddhahood.

In the post previous I pointed at something that many would not understand. I shelved a high value job at a prestigious space agency. The successful completion of which could have opened the way for senior positions and a way back from the “wilderness”. We would have had plenty of cash.

There were a number of warning omens when we were viewing properties in and near Leiden. Retrospect suggests that the job was a temptation of sorts.

Earlier I walked out of a marriage with a very young child which caused the sale of a house in London now worth £ 1 million. I left a new age group which I gave heart and soul to establish. I “gave” my shares back to a start-up company the vision for which was to a fair extent mine. I quit a then tenured academic job at a top university, something to which many aspired. I had no other job lined up just a few training courses. One of these went pear shaped so I gave them up too. To move from a highly timetabled job into near nothing was a bit of a shock to the system. I resigned from another short lived university teaching post. I cut contact with my aged mother. I forwent relations with family.

None of these were easy. I am not a prince.

One could say that I am simply a loser who could not hack it.

One could say that these were acts of stepwise renunciation. The integral over micro-renunciations has a similar effect to sudden departure.

 Or one could call deem them all the INFJ door slam, a fault in my character.

What is it that seeks success? It is the self and not the Soul. In this logic renunciation is indeed an act of self-sabotage. The ambitions of the self are stymied in stepwise succession. I know that I can live without any of these accoutrements. If you like I have physical plane proof by experience. I am not bound by the fear of missing out on a normal successful life.

I could be kidding myself. Trying to find an excuse for my squandering of opportunity. Or maybe I have simply thrown my toys out of my cot because things did not go my way.

Nobody else has experienced these things like I did. Nobody else has felt the tearing, the ripping. I am alone in my moccasins which I may not loan to another.

People might have opinions.

I cannot return to the trajectory my life was once on. Any attempt has gone badly awry. The dramatic might say that I am not meant to. Or one could argue that it is the karma of wanton squandering. I made the bed and now I must sleep in it.

There remains one question concerning what if anything I do with the remainder of earthly sojourn.

Hmnn…