You can’t see what you don’t see.
It’s bloody obvious, but being fundamentally aware of it changes everything.
There’s no way I can step outside my worldview and borrow yours for a while.
There’s no way I can observe the planet with different eyes than mine (eyes that see what they think, not what they see).
It’s simply impossible.
And even if I tried really, REALLY hard to see what you see, it would still be my interpretation, my idea of your view.
And how would I ever know how close to you I’d be?
We can never not see how we see things, and they don’t even look very personal or unique (because, well, we see what we see, right? It’s there in front of us, come on, no doubt about it!).
There’s no way out this experiential conundrum, or is there?
Well, there is, sort of.
We can be conscious of the fact that we can’t see what others see, and that consciousness is really powerful stuff.
Because realizing I’m the only one in the world who experiences life exactly the way I do, tells me you must have the same thing going on.
The same subjective stuff, pretending to be deeply objective.
Different ‘truths’, happening in real time, unrecognizable for each other.
It means that nobody is ever right.
It means I am as full of shit as you are, and we can laugh about it.
It means I can love what you hate and vice versa, and it’s okay because I don’t hang on to it the way I did, even though it looks as solid and true as it does.
What a relief.
So much space.
Float, just the way you like it.