What is reality? Well, in this neck of the woods, spring is springing, springing, the grass is growing, growing and I am out mowing, mowing. Everything else in my life has gone into abeyance!
It seems that what one is doing in the moment is the best assessment of what is real. All other people, places and things go into a state of partial stasis, a sort of limbo which one can observe unclearly and indirectly as through smoky glass.
Perhaps we need to be more accurate in the way we speak of memory, and give the process of drawing forward information many more levels of engagement than are hitherto used. The far past, intermediate and then the immediate time frame are probably too broad and lacking in depth and precision to be reliably employed.
We might consider that all life is created from memory, and that it is in a constant dance with reality; together they do a very slow pulsing tango, which can express itself in the Now, upon request.
There seems to be an unbreakable reciprocity between reality and memory. It is Life, however, that gathers to it all that was, and stores it in the forever, against a time when it might well become reality again.
tetralogia 