In an earlier post, I wrote about Andrew's view of the world of The Matrix -- no matter what we may see, there is no reality; it's all a stage.
I'm wondering about my life: how much of this is stage and how much is reality?
I have a friend in Boston who claims that her life is nothing more than a show; everything is created for some viewing audience. Like "Truman" but taken to the ultimate extreme. ((By the way, "Truman" the movie was based on a short story which I read years and years ago. In the short story, Truman lives not on a movie set, but in the real world, always on television, but never knowing. In the short story, we are not only viewers, but participants, in his life.)) Anyway, my Boston friend says that when I come to town and see her, it's to add drama to the script. Like I'm a write-in.
I'm thinking if my life is a show, it's not getting good ratings... seems awfully boring... or does it? Sure, the mundane: the work, the dirty house, the shopping, the beating the boys*, the writing, etc. etc. etc.
My life, all our lives, is full of the mundane.
And then, every once in a while, something happens, there's some event, which propels life off in another direction. The un-mundane. The anti-mundane.
I'm thinking those times have to do with relationships between people. ((I have this "argument" with a fellow consultant; he claims, "It's all about process." I claim, "It's all about relationships." We may both be right: it's about the process of relationships... and the relationship of processes...)) Stuff happens and then we react.
It's the how we react that sets the tone and tenure of life.
Okay, a bit rambling. I'm not sure the point of this, aside from I'm wondering what's real... and what's not. If you have the answer, please let me know.
*That was sarcasm, for those of you who can't recognize it when you see it. This is a disclaimer: I don't beat the boys. Except in months which end in "r."