Among the stars

Real­i­ty is an illu­sion, it is said because our mind is a great inter­preter of its stim­uli. Con­scious­ness is not what we are, but what we think of ourselves.

It is enough to under­stand that the sen­sa­tions con­veyed by the dif­fer­ent strings of our nerves reach the brain a lit­tle bit at the tail end. What we call con­scious­ness would be the sum­ma­ry of the sum and sort­ing of the infor­ma­tion received.

Iso­late the right brain from the left, and two con­scious­ness­es will be born, unable to com­mu­ni­cate with each oth­er. The world, as we per­ceive it, even if it is very real since we all oper­ate through its net, is nonethe­less a sto­ry that is con­stant­ly being reinvented.

And the nar­ra­tive doesn’t stop there. Trees exchange with each oth­er, even between species, infor­ma­tion, car­bon, and air. Cats hyp­no­tize their mas­ters so that a small virus could reach the felines’ intestines. Par­a­sites cause but­ter­flies to fly into the mouths of fish, and how many oth­er liv­ing things act like ghosts ?

There is so much going on that we have no idea about. We are made of atoms that have passed through I don’t know how many black holes. What are they doing to us ?

It is said that mat­ter, yes, the mat­ter that we think is inan­i­mate, has with­in it the capac­i­ty to awak­en, not as we can do, but still capa­ble of trans­mit­ting, of push­ing for­ward what it carries.

What can we believe in the end ? Every­thing, of course. We are not here to rebel but to participate.

You only have to flip a pho­to to believe you are among the stars. So…