I’ve been thinking a good bit about the nature of reality. Specifically, the notion that we create our reality through consciousness. I was thus occupied when I noticed the sky above the beach here in Destin seemed just a little too perfect.
smays.com
“Now that’s how you scrub a fucking bloodstain” — Al Swearengen
The past and the future are constructions of our mind. One doesn’t exist any more, and the other one hasn’t happened yet. We can talk about the past because of our memory, and the future because our prefrontal cortex is guessing what will happen next. But in both cases, it’s imperfect. Without a measure of discipline our minds can become entangled in their own inner dialogue.
The ground truth, the only verifiable facts you can rely upon are that the entirety of the universe is nothing more than what you are doing in this present moment. I have found that reminding myself of this (between my normal trips into deep abstraction) is a good thing.