“I enter the world called real as one enters a mist” – Julien Green
You would think, wouldn’t you, that getting to reality, or even a sense of the real, would be easy or obvious.
We can tell an object is real because we can see or touch it.
Not so matters of life and the soul.
There is often the pain of the upwards mountainous trudge and the sheer f**king foggy uncertainty of it all.
Not immediately knowing what is true, and not getting to any semblance of the truth any time soon.
It is only step by faltering step, day by grinding day, that we find our shrouded reality.