What do I think is real?

Does thinking it make it so?


I accept that the chair I sit on is real because I can A) see and B) feel it.

I experience both confirmation senses via my brain.

I am used to relying on my brain to tell me what is and what is not, and like all loudmouths, it has a firm opinion on everything.


Suppose I shift from the physical world of the chair and explore the more nebulous, abstract and psychological realm of abilities, concepts, ideas, methods, agendas, and what I can, can’t, should or shouldn’t do.


In this arena, I find my brain no less verbose about its certainty of what is and is not, possible or impossible, good or bad…. Reality.


But how reliable are its pronouncements?

They are not.

They can’t be.


My brain is permanently hot-wired into a survival mode that is greedy, pessimistic and risk-averse.

It bases its opinions on history’s successes and failures.

It is bigoted.

It stores data on cause and effect but only links them if they occur in the same relative time frame.

It is limited to a view of the physical, primarily via the five senses, and cannot see the spiritual, a world I also inhabit and from which I can draw much.


In short, my brain has a limited view, is heavily biased and has a weak moral compass.


It will pontificate on who is friend or foe, what is possible or not, what will or won’t happen.


Regarding alcohol, my thoughts told me that the reality was that I couldn’t stop, didn’t need to stop, and it would be best if I didn’t try.

It was wrong on all counts!


My thoughts advised me to refrain from writing as it won’t amount to anything.


My thoughts tell me I am insufficient, and others won’t like me.


My thoughts would have me hold a grudge, distrust, batten down the hatches, erect barriers and keep to myself.


My thoughts urge me to amass and stockpile more and share less.




My inner voice tells me that things are either not as they seem or….



I want to say that again.






It’s what human beings do.

We create stuff and, in so doing, change realities.

We change what was and make what is.

We do it all the time.

But my mind struggles to see this.


If I want to see past my mind’s limitations, I need to lean into my quieter but more resourced self, the peaceful awareness behind my busy thought life.

The still, small voice within.

It has had many names over time:

  • Instinct.
  • Intuition.
  • 2nd sight.
  • 3rd eye.
  • Gut feel.
  • Knower.
  • Conscience.

Whatever I call it, I am always better off paying it heed.

It is a reliable guide.

My inner voice is patient, loving and kind. 

It does not envy or boast and is not proud.

It isn’t rude or self-seeking and is not easily angered.

It forgives, protects, trusts, hopes, and always perseveres.

It is rooted in the divine and the absolute awareness beyond time and space.


My inner voice’s limitation is that my rambunctious thoughts easily drown it out.


A classic he who shouts loudest!


I must learn to quieten my thoughts if I want to discern reality.


Mindfulness practice.

Being still.


I do not advocate ignoring my thoughts; They have their place, but it’s a case of stowing them there until I need to use them.


Living life is full of choices I make following a throng of judgement calls shaped by my perception of reality.



Choose carefully the vantage point from where I view reality.

If I don’t like what I see, change it. 

Get creating!