Objective Reality

What is O.R.?

It is an experience of reality outside of sandy human algorithms.

The very first lock on the path of discussing objective reality is a refusal for many to even look, and then to see the obvious.
The very first key unlocking objective reality is meeting it face to face.
Then, it is extremely difficult to catch that very first glimpse and continue to follow the path into the virtual obscure unknown. The sustained looking at objective reality is comparable to a solitary launch into a hostile territory at first, but it gets better, and this is what this is all about, the dreaded first look, and the thrill of it at the same time.
For me when it happened years ago what followed in literally seconds, my singularity reality disappeared in equivalence.
Soon after the great unveiling, reality started to unfold, like it happened to many others:
“It happened to me about two years ago, on the day when my bed was first pushed out of doors to the open gallery of the hospital. I was recovering from a surgical operation. I had undergone a certain amount of physical pain, and had suffered for a short time the most acute mental depression which it has ever been my misfortune to encounter. I suppose that this depression was due to physical causes, but at the time it seemed to me that somewhere down there under the anesthetic, in the black abyss of unconsciousness, I had discovered a terrible secret, and the secret was that there was no God; or if there was one, He was indifferent to all human suffering.
…[I]t was an ordinary commonplace day. Yet here, in this everyday setting, and entirely unexpectedly (for I had never dreamed of such a thing), my eyes were opened, and for the first time in all my life I caught a glimpse of the ecstatic beauty of reality.
I cannot now recall whether the revelation came suddenly or gradually; I only remember finding myself in the very midst of those wonderful moments, beholding life for the first time in all its young intoxication of loveliness, in its unspeakable joy, beauty, and importance. I cannot say exactly what the mysterious change was. I saw no new thing, but I saw all the usual things in a miraculous new light — in what I believe is their true light. I saw for the first time how wildly beautiful and joyous, beyond any words of mine to describe, is the whole of life. Every human being moving across that porch, every sparrow that flew, every branch tossing in the wind, was caught in and was a part of the whole mad ecstasy of loveliness, of joy, of importance., of intoxication of life.
It was not that for a few keyed-up moments I imagined all existence as beautiful, but that my inner vision was cleared to the truth so that I saw the actual loveliness which is always there, but which we so rarely perceive; and I knew that every man, woman, bird, and tree, every living thing before me, was extravagantly beautiful, and extravagantly important. And, as I beheld, my heart melted out of me in a rapture of love and delight. A nurse was walking past; the wind caught a strand of her hair and blew it out in a momentary gleam of sunshine, and never in my life before had I seen how beautiful beyond all belief is a woman’s hair. Nor had I ever guessed how marvelous it is for a human being to walk. As for the internes in their white suits, I had never realized before the whiteness of white linen; but much more than that, I had never so much as dreamed of the mad beauty of young manhood. A little sparrow chirped and flew to a nearby branch, and I honestly believe that only “the morning start singing together, and the sons of God shouting for joy” can in the least express the ecstasy of a bird’s flight. I cannot express it, but I have seen it.”
–{ Margaret Montague from “Twenty Minutes of Reality” }
“The first time it happened, I was in a forest in the north of France [..] That particular evening, some friends and I had gone for a walk in the forest we liked so much. Night had fallen. We were walking. Gradually our laughter faded and the conversation died down. Nothing remained but our friendship, our mutual trust and shared presence, the mildness of the night air and of everything around us. … My mind empty of thought, I was simply registering the world around me – the darkness of the underbush, the incredible luminosity of the sky, the faint sounds of the forest branches snapping, an occasional animal call, our own muffled steps) only making the silence more palpable. And then, all of a sudden. … What? Nothing: everything! No words, no meanings, no questions, only – a surprise. Only-this. A seemingly infinite happiness. A seemingly eternal sense of peace. Above me, the starry sky was immense, luminous and unfathomable, and within me there was nothing but the skyy, of which I was a part, and the silence, and the light, like a warm hum, and a sense of joy with neither subject nor object (no object other than everything, no subject other than itself). Yes, in the darkness of that night, I contained only the dazzling presence of the All. Peace. Infinite peace! Simplicity, serenity, delight. The two latter words may sound incompatible, but at the time they weren’t words, they were experience: silence, harmony. It was as if a perfect chord, once played, had been indefinitely prolonged, and that chord was the world. I felt fine. Incredibly fine! So fine that I didn’t even need to notice it or hope that it would last. I can scarcely even say that I was walking- the walk was there, and the forest, and the trees, and the group of friends. … The ego had vanished: no more separation or representation, only the silent presentation of everything. No more value judgments; only reality. No more time; only the present. No more nothingness; only being. No more frustration, hatred, fear, anger or anxiety; only joy and peace. No more make-believe, illusions, lies; only the truth, which I did not contain but which contained me. It may have lasted only a few seconds. I felt at once stunned and reconciled, stunned and calmer than I’d ever felt before. […] “This is what Spinoza meant by eternity,” I said to myself- and, naturally, that put an end to it, or expelled me from it. Words returned, and thought, and the ego, and separation. But it didn’t matter; the universe was still there, and I was there with it, or within it. How can you fall out of the All? How can eternity come to an end? How can words stifle silence? I had experienced a moment of perfection, a moment of bliss- just long enough to realize what these things were.”
– { Andre Comte-Sponville : “The Little Book of Atheist Spirituality” }
“I recall an ordinary day that made [this] obvious. Everyone was already at the hospital making morning rounds. “It doesn’t matter,” I thought as I scraped a patch of ice crystals off the window. “I’m already late.” Through the clear area I could see the underlying apparatus of the trees lining the road. The early morning sun slanted down, throwing into gleaming brightness the bare twigs. There was a feeling of mystery contained in that scene, a powerful feeling that something was veiled behind it that wasn’t accounted for in the scientific journals. I put on my lab coat and set on my way to the university. As I strolled toward the hospital I had a curious impulse to detour round the biology pond. Perhaps I preferred to avoid harsh-etched things before my eyes at morning: the sight of the stainless-steel machines perhaps, or the stark lights in the operating room. It was this that had brought me to pause at the edge of the pond, in undisturbed quiet and solitude. Thoreau would have approved. “Poetry and art,” he wrote “and the fairest and most memorable of the actions of men, date from such an hour.” It was comforting to overlook the pond, and watch the photons dancing on its surface like so many notes from Mahler’s Ninth Symphony. For an instant my body was beyond affection by the elements, and my mind merged with the whole of nature as much as it has ever been in my life. In that unassuming calm I saw nature, naked and unclothed, as she was for Eiseley and Thoreau. I headed back to the hospital, where morning rounds were nearly finished. A dying woman sat on the bed before me. Outside a songbird had its trill, sitting on a limb over the pond. Later on, I thought of the secret denied me at dawn when I peeped through that little ice-crystal hole into the morning. “We are too content with our sense organs,” Eiseley once said. “It’s no longer enough to see as a man sees -? even to the ends of the universe.” Our radiotelescopes and supercolliders merely extend the perceptions of our mind. We see the finished work only. We don’t see how we are part of the whole, save for a space of perhaps five seconds on some glorious winter morning when all the senses are one.”
– { Robert Lanza, MD “Biocentrism: How Life and Consciousness are the Keys to Understanding the True Nature of the Universe” }
And one more ‘account’ of a reality experience beautifully illustrated in literature, an excerpt from “The Picture of Dorian Grey” by Oscar Wilde:
“There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and mishapen joy, when through the chambers of brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality(…) Gradually white fingers creep through the curtains, and they appear to tremble. In black fantastic shapes, dumb shadows crawl into the corners of the room, and crouch there. Outside, there is the stirring of birds among the leaves, or the sound of men going forth to their work, or the sigh and sob of the wind coming down from the hills, and wandering round the silent house, as though it feared to wake the sleepers, and yet must needs call forth sleep from the purple cave. Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, and by degrees the forms and colours of things are restored to them, and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern. […] it may be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in the darkness for our pleasure, a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colours and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance even of joy having bits of bitterness and the memories of pleasure their pain.”
I saw the objective reality – – O.R. – – for the first time. It was June 2009, and I was sick with flu, very sick. It often happens that in such moments of physical pain it all becomes clear. Since then for the next few years I’ve seen reality reveal itself in its entirety.
O.R. is a struggling beauty. Relentless in its limitedness. I am tired looking at it, yet it strengthens. I finally am, in every moment. Confident in my feebleness. The key & the lock, the logical fabric of reality, never failing. It’s a limited reality and it must suffice and it does, abundantly.
It is a terrible experience to see it, at first, even disappointing, but also empowering to my physical human being.
Toil indeed has become the essence of my existence in the last decade. I am physically exhausted, but let my mind wander where almost no one else does. Sometimes I venture to the center of our galaxy, and once even at the end of reality, which was the most scary fathom dreamscape. I was falling down what looked like a vertical ladder of Higgs fields horizontally aligned, lit with millions of swirling universes, and I was falling down along into the infinity.



The first moment of the realisation that the concept of singularity was false, felt overwhelmingly lonely, yet at the same time eerily freeing.
Being alone means being free, and to be free one needs to be alone. Whether that means being a reductionist, oversimplifying reality, stripping it from layers of distortion, atmospherical effects, myth making, illusion and fear, or simply arriving there using the philosophical method of logic, the paths being different but the result is the same. It leads to aloneness and freedom.
The keyword is separateness of events in the universe, or linked causality. Aloneness is the basic condition of all being, as it is separate from each other but linked separately in the consequential universe of a web of prerequisites and postrequisites, pre-events and post-events. The evidence is in the lack of knowledge of origin and destination of all conscious being, constantly seeking the truth and meaning of its own existence.
Logically, if the supernatural does exist at all it has to mean that it is separate from our existence. It may be linked in some sequence, being a prerequisite to us as it is wildly hoped, or may be a consequence of our existence. But does it matter whether that being existed before us or exists because of us or after us? No.
The separateness of being in the infinite linked existence is the the law ensuring freedom. The number of potential possibilities of links between prerequisite realities and its consequences is as large as the chances of finding a single electron on the quantum level. So to say there is a single precisely described deity with a number of hoped for and wished for features (the almighty, the supremely good and loving heavenly father, etc.) is like trying to catch a single molecular particle, paint it with a rainbow palette of hues, stripes and patterns, and then hold it up on the tip of the fingernail and say: look, here it is…
Andre Comte-Sponville in “The Little Book of Atheist Spirituality” writes:
“Once the finite nature of the idea of infinity within us has been acknowledged, the brain suffices to explain it; the brain can very well be the mind’s potential just as the mind is brain’s actualization.”
The material existence (the human thought in a physical universe) may be a post-requisite of the mind (the non-material existence) or it may be its prerequisite, the mind is its actualization. However, it cannot be one and the other in the same spacetime, as it violates the basic rule of separateness that ensures freedom.
The material universe can very well be a supernatural being’s potential just as the universe is its actualization. Each separate link that comes after the previous link actualizes it. But the freedom is ensured through an open potential of post-requisites. Each link in the consequential universe experiences aloneness of being. I am one of the infinite multitude of links, and I experience aloneness in each and every moment.
When a transition from singularity reality began, I also realized that not only am I alone but also my thoughts are alone, separate in their own existence. It means that no one can hear them, listen to them, track them, and judge them.
The consequences of being alone are amazing.
In O.R. no one knows what I think and what my intentions are until they materialize in some form, whether in writing or via oral sound effects known as speech.
No one can ever know what I intend to do, which ensures freedom of action.
With the aloneness of thought comes aloneness in spacetime. This is the most pleasant experience I can think of when being free, separate and alone. I experience it in every moment of every day and it feels infinitely free. Being alone is a bit scary but being free is quite the opposite, which cancels the fear of aloneness, and returns me to balance, it is an anchor stabilizing the fear.
Being separate in spacetime means that even when surrounded by people who are random strangers, I feel invisible, free and unique in my present time existence. The feeling is reinforced much more so when being alone in a closed space with surrounding walls. It feels as if I don’t exist to other people and the world, and it gives me comfort and the pleasure of being free and separate. How many people do we not know about that exist concurrently with us in the world on our planet. How many people existed in the history before us. How many people will exist after us. How many people exist on other planets. The multitudes of histories. Can one embrace it with human mind, and imagine all that existence? If one can, and embrace the available spacetime and the infinite multitude of being, do you not think that all the existence, all this reality suffices as it is? Is there a need for singularity? It seems as though it is an excess to what is. And it is.

Consequently, freedom is a dynamic movement through spacetime. No movement (or absence of Einstein’s E=mc2, a permanent being is not free, thus cannot exist. No freedom, no existence. No existence, no freedom.
Aloneness is separateness. Separateness is freedom. Freedom is existence, and there is nothing else.
An Absence of Singularity removes noisy spirituality in the sense of removing the fear of absolutes. Fear is noisy. Singularity banished, a different type of spirituality that is quiet, that is more natural, more organic and more sustainable fills the space. The toil and the struggle you see around every day are no longer frightening, they are a part of you. Irregular heartbeat, pain, people dying, blood, violence, are no longer horrifying. The noise of life becomes quiet. Everything you see is a part of you. You understand frightened people, violent protesters, greedy politicians, misguided leaders, predatory humans, people with disabilities, people of other races and beliefs, etc. You understand all life, and accept it in the quiet of your heart. Death is no longer frightening. Nothing is. All fear is gone. Because all life is carried on the shoulders of multitudes, in the strong current of the river of life. There is nothing outside of struggling life, and so there is nothing to be afraid of.
It is the ultimate freedom, compensating for the weak individual link of life that is me. The average lifespan of any living creature is the cost of freedom. The weakness of life, feebleness, short longevity are a consequence of freedom. Freedom being the most precious of benefits of life. Freedom stems from separateness, from independence between causes and consequences and the balance is preserved.
When fear is removed, the consequences in the reality of life are freeing.
Life is less stressful, which leads to a more healthy heartbeat. Which in turn, consequently makes life more sustainable. Eventually, when action is calculated into the equation of life choices, life can become so much more fulfilling and so much more alive. But freedom is there, and it is most reassuring. The benefit of free life, the conscious freedom of choices, is the basis for a progressive, sustainable society of the future. As a human kind we are still far away from there, hindered by fear and absolutes that don’t exist. Our fears make our societies less sustainable, and less successful as a species. We don’t embrace life as it is fully, we are still frightened, we are still making noise.


The above is partially edited out, to remove the parts that need not mentioning, since they don’t exist. The text has been written circa 2010, shortly after the glimpse and following unravel of objective reality, without the knowledge of the Theory of Everything. It is necessary to publish to set the tone for next substacks.



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