Seeming Reality vs. What’s Real
Just because it seems real doesn’t mean it’s Real.
We’re wired to believe what we see. Heat waves shimmer in the desert, and our mind says: water. Even if we know it’s a mirage, the body still reacts. We feel hope. Relief. Thirst. That’s the power of seeming reality.
But there’s a difference between what seems real and what is. In nondual teachings, what is ultimately Real isn’t what appears, but what never changes (cf. Non‑duality and mental health). The appearances come and go. Awareness abides.
The Cliff and the Pause
Imagine this story: a man is hanging from a branch off the edge of a cliff. Below him is open space. Above, he can’t climb back. His past is gone. His future is unknown. He’s suspended in uncertainty.
Now, here’s the thing: the moment he stops trying to solve the situation—stops reaching, calculating, clinging—something opens. He’s no longer a man in trouble. He’s awareness in midair. Unattached. Present. Living in the falling.
Living Without Gripping
That’s the kind of living we’re pointing to. Not checked out. Not indifferent. But open. Curious. Can I be open to possibilities as they float into experience?
The mirage captures this beautifully. You know it’s not water—and still, you see it. Still, the body leans forward. Still, there’s yearning. The illusion persists even in the presence of knowledge.
But we don’t have to drink from the mirage. We just have to stop building our sense of self around it.
Falling Into Awareness
We don’t need to land. We just need to fall—with eyes wide open.
And when we fall fully, we realize we’re not falling through life—we’re falling into awareness.
Postscript: Two Endings
The cliffhanger story has, at least, two continuations.
In one, the man cries out, “Is there anyone up there to help?” A voice answers, “Yes, I can help.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m God.”
“Oh—good. What should I do?”
“Let go!”
“Hmm… Is there anyone else?”
The other comes from my daughter Ariel, wherein the man, while hanging, notices a single bright red strawberry growing from the cliffside. With his last bit of strength, he reaches for it—lets go—and takes a bite. It’s the best strawberry he’s ever tasted.
Your Version?
Have your own version? I’d love to hear it in the comments.
You might also enjoy reading Life Is Butter Dream, which explores a similar theme of awareness, illusion, and letting go.
~ Jordan Shafer/nmm