On Truth and Love

Truth and Love

    The noted Beatle philosopher, John Lennon, once quipped, “The more I see, the less I know for sure.” Quantum scientist, Werner Heisenberg, quantified that idea with his Uncertainty Principle that states, in essence, that the very act of observing disturbs the system being observed, so that its exact properties can never be known.

    What then is truth? For each of us, truth is what we perceive it to be, and no two people perceive it the same. Thus perception is reality for anyone, but is it really truth?

    Goodreads.com lists 454 quotations on perception. Here are a few.

    Jonathan Safran Foer in his novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close,: “Songs are as sad as the listener.”

    Edgar Allan Poe: “All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” Of course, not many may claim perceptions similar to the extraordinary Poe.

    The German philosopher, Arthur Schopenhauer: “Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world.” I think we can, in the spirit of equality, expand that observation to include women.

    Eighteenth century Scottish philosopher, David Hume, is considered by the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy to be “the most important philosopher ever to write in English.” I love his perspective on the subject—“Each mind perceives a different beauty.”

    Is there any wonder that discrepancies arise over the seemingly most simple matters, let alone those of great consequence? Science fiction writer, Philip K. Dick, warned, “. . . if subjective worlds are perceived too differently, there occurs a breakdown in communication . . .” As a long-married man, I can attest to the truth in that.

    But, surely there is a real, immutable truth, a physical reality that stands outside of human perception—or is there? Albert Einstein said, “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.”

    If a single “correct” version of truth exists, how are we ever to recognize it? Author Anais Nin put it this way, “We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.”

    But wait; it gets worse. Christof Koch reported on a structured study of the issue in the 8/9/10 (cool date, no?) volume of Scientific American magazine. “Our perception of the world, though relatively stable, is not static . . . our awareness is informed . . . by any number of transient factors—our strength and energy levels, our sense of confidence, our fears and desires. Being human means seeing the world through our own, constantly shifting lens. We are incapable of being fully objective.” (Italics, mine.)

    I devoted many years of my life to scientific study and research, both in academia and in the more practically or commercially directed practice of industrial R&D. I have discovered new “truths” and contributed that knowledge to the scientific and patent literature. Yet, with Lennon, I always felt that the more I learned, the less I knew. This feeling of ambiguity is not restricted to my understanding of the physical world but extends to more esoteric and metaphysical concepts, as I express in my poem,

No Ordinary Fish (from Another Season Spent).

I caught a fish the other day.

Glancing down I perceived it dimly

through rippled waters

wagging its tail at me.

Odd, I thought—this fish

acknowledges my presence

but does not dart into the depths.

And so I reached down

with my left hand and grasped it

expecting now for sure that it would

squirm away and leave me foolish,

empty handed.

But no, this cold creature did not

twist or fight as all fish do

when I lifted it dripping from the water

and held it in my two hands

beheld it face to face, dumbfounded.

This is no ordinary walleye, I said,

as the fish looked me in the eye

raised one brow quizzically and blew

me a fish kiss. Well I’ll be damned!

So when it spoke I hardly flinched:

My name is Pythia, it said, through bubble lips

but you can call me Scales.

I have the answers you have been searching for.

The answers?

Yes. It flipped its tail impatiently.

So ask away, I haven’t got all day.

But I don’t know where to start.

So what?

You never did.

Then I pondered on the expanding universe,

(or is it universes in the plural)

and how it (or they) came to be.

What would I find beyond the outer edges

of the cosmos, of space and time? And

of the soul—its composition and mortality

the meaning of beauty

the need for evil

how life came to be

collisions of galaxies

the death of the sun

my parent’s graves

my children’s faces

my life

love.

The walleye pursed its lips

but with no other word

it shook its head

and shrugged.

I placed it deep down

into the water

a full arm’s length.

I felt its scales abrade my hand

as it backed off slowly, and

with a sudden silvery burst

I saw it flash away.

No ordinary fish.

    Humorist Douglas Adams (The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and others) had this take on the question: “There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.”

    Lest you feel put off or disturbed by the enigmas of a universal truth, let me conclude with another quote from John Lennon:

“All you need is love,

All you need is love,

All you need is love, love

Love is all you need.”

Richard Allen Anderson, ProetryPlace Blog 38 http://richardandersonblogs.blogspot.com