The Perplexing Significance of Illusion

Image by: Lisa L Peters © 2015 'Time'

My earliest memory is one that cannot be wholly true. I was lying on a folded blanket, head resting on an uncomfortably fluffy pillow. My big toe was voraciously exploring the interior of a faucet which loomed above me. And in my mind, I distinctly recall thinking, "Why the hell did they put me in a bathtub?"

I recounted this memory to my parents numerous times growing up and as an adult. They were able to corroborate the incident. It became a part of my narrative, a story I could tell at parties, a tale that set me apart from others around me. What was unique about this experience wasn't the detail, but the timeline. According to my astonished mother, this happened before I was six months old. So I became known as the girl who had an extraordinarily good memory.

But did I?

I still believe with all my heart that I actually remember this. But logically, I realize there's a chance I don't. And at the very least, I must have filled it in based on my imagination, perceptions, and conversations with my parents. For instance, at six months old, it's highly unlikely my toe could reach the faucet. And I certainly wasn't swearing like a sailor.

The memory I carry is an illusion. It's filtered through time. It's embellished by experience. And it's real only to the extent that it's believed. But isn't that the case with virtually everything?

We shape our lives - our realities - based on illusion. Some are personal. Many are collective. All of them have the power to limit or expand the ways in which we experience the world. And even though we often choose not to address this, we know it. We pepper our culture with cliches: "Life is but a dream", "It's all a game", "If you build it, they will come". And on and on and on. We've flooded the vernacular with reminders.

There is only one thing I'm certain of in this world: On some level, in some fashion, at this moment, I exist. I exist and I can decide what that looks like. I can decide who I am right now. And I can harness the power of illusion to manifest my life as I wish it to be.

That sounds ridiculously woo-wooish, I know. And I'm not saying it's easy. I'm not even saying I consciously choose to do it most days. Most people don't. I'm certainly part of that demographic. But I can. And so can you.

In order to be real, illusion requires only one thing of you: you must buy in. As soon as you do, reality is created. Your reality. A shared reality. The collective reality. They are all the same. They exist because someone believes they do.

A few years ago I was on the world famous Venice Beach Boardwalk taking street photos. I live a couple miles away and I'm a photographer, so it's one of my go-to haunts. During this period I'd been going there quite often and had become a bit cavalier about the safety of a woman down there alone.

On this particular trip I decided to duck into an alley to capture some spectacular graffiti. It went smoothly at first. But as I started to wander back towards the boardwalk, I was approached by a man walking towards me. "Hey momma, you got any spare change for me?"

"I'm sorry," I answered honestly, "I don't have any cash."

At this point we were face to face and he got confrontational, "What, you don't care about me and my family?!"

"I'm sorry. I don't have any cash," I repeated as we passed each other and I saw his hand slip into a pocket, reaching for something.

I kept walking. I did not look back. He kept yelling, increasingly agitated and threatening. I knew instinctively that if I turned around - if I allowed him to engage me in his illusion- his reality would become my reality...I'd be staring at whatever weapon he'd extracted from his pocket.

I reached the boardwalk safely and resumed my photowalk. It wasn't until much later that the gravity of that encounter hit me. The importance of my choice. The malleable nature of that moment. And the significance the memory was destined to have on me. I had the ability to shape and reshape this one illusion to service my narrative positively. Or negatively. And I can honestly tell you that over time, I've done both.

We employ illusion to explain, justify, propel, empower, comfort, motivate, define, and excuse ourselves. We use it mercilessly. And we allow it to use us. It's the invisible thread that binds or unravels every relationship we have. It may just be the nature of existence. And yet it's fleetingly fickle.

Illusion will define you. It already does. The question is how. And that is where the great equalizer of choice comes in.

What kind of illusions will you choose?