Reality seems to be riddled with paradox and oddness.
The deeper I look at being here, the more that seems to come forward. Lately I've had the repeated insight, or realization that I can see no way to prove that any of this is actually happening. No single part of the experience that I go through is provable in an ultimate sense. All of it. Every single bit of what I experience and encounter could be false. It could all be made up, or simulated. My memories could be implanted. My sensations could be artificially manufactured.
I can be sure that something is happening, but I can't be sure what, why, or when.
More and more this has been nailed home on a deep level.
And the result?
Contentment. Deep and wonderful contentment. Since this reality all be made up somehow it really is the case that, where I am concerned, it is what I make of it. That does not lead me to a fatalistic laziness. Rather it leads me to an agreement, a deep agreement with the situation. It's not a feel of being at the mercy of things. Instead it's an immense freedom to dance with things and see what happens.
This comes from looking directly at me. The one thing that is consistent in all of this. The lever point upon which all experiences turn. I can't prove what that is, but as I say I can be sure that something is happening, and as far as the view in here is concerned, some of those things seem to be happening to me.
This is not a solipsism. I am categorically not suggesting that my view is the only real one there is. In fact I am suggesting the opposite. As I say, something is happening. I can't prove it's source, or what else is out there, but something is. Happily some of those things are fun to talk to.