The myth of objective perception is that we can become unbiased witnesses to all that appears and in so doing know what is really true. The goal is to find some detached vantage point from which to see the world, observe its machinations, and understand it. Unfortunately, as quantum physicists discovered almost 100 years ago, the very act of observation cannot be separated from what is observed. We are embedded within what appears and cannot find a separate place to stand or a separate thing to observe.
The seeming alternative to such a way of knowing is the spiritual path, the process of inquiry and deep reflection that leads to an irrefutable understanding that what we are, our true nature, is only a manifestation of the very same energy that animates all that is, whether we call it consciousness or awareness, Self, God or Brahman. Yet the quandary we face is that it is simply our minds, our own thought processes and brain, that give us this perception, hence any idea about the meaning of our most profound feelings and perceptions remains a subjective interpretation based solely on our thoughts and beliefs.
As Ana tells us, there is no way to stand outside of life to study it and know it, nor is there any way to glean some ultimate truth from purely subjective experience. All we have are interpretations that turn into beliefs, but all they reveal is the way we seem to see the world and ourselves. What is simply is, and life remains beautifully and perfectly immune to our theories and concepts, which are no more than dust blowing in the wind.
You appear only in my mind. You are a character in the only reality I know and it is as real as a movie. You do not exist except as the actor playing a part on a stage in the theater of my mind's eye, because there is no other place. If there was someone out there, I would never know them, and they would never know me. I can imagine I am a character in your movie, and if everyone is only a character in everyone's else’s mind, are there even minds at all? Where are you in relation to any one else that appears? Where is the real you? Is there any one there at all?
Words appear on a screen, perhaps some AI simulation for all I can tell, but I feel no more real than my thoughts. I call them “mine,” but cannot locate their source any more than I can find the origin to “your” thoughts, and even “thought” is a concept that seems to divide something indivisible. There is no edge to what is, no borders or boundaries; all that appears exists within this seamlessness and only language creates the illusion of separation.
There are no places, no people, no things at all, and yet all that appears dances like a story in a fairy tale written in a language no one can ever read. Other people are as real as my reflection in a hall of mirrors; they are all me and there is no me. As the famous guru said when she was asked how she knew that what she said was true, “What fun!”