Imagine a small community living together in a mountain valley. They know not what lies beyond the cliffs that surround their homes but believe the valley is everything. Each morning, the villagers awake at the same time and tend to their daily chores, be it farming, fishing, milking, or hunting. The village is content in their monotony but each night offers a brief glimpse of truth. Above them in the night sky they see bright lights, as if from some distant skylight. The lights portray symbols of objects; of chairs, of animals, of people, of life. These lights offer only a piece of truth, and the real objects remain unseen to the community. The village lives happily in their blissful nature, knowing not the truth of the world. But imagine if one day a small boy ventured beyond the mountain valley, beyond the distant mountain peaks. If the boy could see the reality beyond his valley home. He would see obscure objects, but would also see foreign ideas and things so complex he couldn't even start to understand. Wouldn't he be intrigued? Wouldn't the dawn of truth make him happy?

The boy wanders back home to the mountain valley, and explains the wonders he has seen to his village. He then offers to show them the small path that leads from the valley. However, people are nervous to venture beyond what has become so natural to them. The reality of the world makes them sad and upset at the truth of the world. They are happier in the ignorant world they live in, a world without truth. They continue to live their meaningless lives in their small valley, watching the looming spectacles each evening. Their reality is their own, a reality set apart from the truth, apart from what really is. Reality cannot, then, be used to describe what lies beyond the valley if that is all that they know. True reality becomes an intimidating discomfort to those of the valley, and they continue their blinded existence in the mountain pass.

Reality can truly serve as a life destructing force, a force that can awaken a human into what is far beyond his emotional capacity. Reality, then, is something that is only needed to be discussed by philosophers and intellectuals. The rest of the world is perhaps better off in their blind existence, without worries of the truth.

The sun sets on the mountain valley, and the lights beam on again. Silently, the community watches as the objects are shined before them. They robotically go to sleep at the same time, in their little houses in their little world.

Learn more about this author, Ace Mcknight.
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