Seeing the Illusion in France

A ripple of causation up Mont Aiguille

The Internal and Trainable Experience of Sight

What you’re seeing right now—this page, this screen, the room around you—is not the world. It’s your mind’s rendering of the world. A kind of inner theatre—and you have front row seats.

Light hits the eyes, signals shoot through nerves, and your brain paints a picture. Not a camera’s picture, but a highly curated, meaning-soaked interpretation of what’s out there. Your perception isn’t truth—it’s suggestion. A guess made out of memory, context, mood, and belief.

And that’s just vision. The same goes for hearing, touch, emotion, thought.
All of it filtered, colored, and skewed—like a cocktail of consciousness.

This isn’t philosophy—it’s neurology.
It’s also your escape route.

Because if what we experience is this fragile, this constructed, we don’t have to believe every storm that rolls through the sky of our mind.
One weird interaction and we feel unloved.
One difficult day, and we think we’re failing.

But the fact is—it’s all an illusion of sorts.
The world is still happening, still real in its own way, but not absolute in how we experience it.

Consider psychedelics. A mushroom, a vine, or a drop of something organic shifts the way you see the world—literally. Mountains breathe. Trees speak. Time bends.
The world doesn't change—but the lens does.

Simply breathing deeply for a while can have the very same effect (just ask Stan Grof).

Or take an awkward conversation with a loved one. A compliment. A song.
Any one of these can completely shift how you see yourself or your surroundings.
Your eyes didn’t change. Your consciousness did.

Ram Dass said it best: “Life is far too important to take seriously.”

You are not a solid thing.
You are a process. A moment. A ripple of causation—made of your upbringing, your community, your traumas, your joys, the weather, and whatever you ate for lunch.

You can learn to watch this process, not grip hold of it.
And when you do, it becomes lighter. Not meaningless—but less heavy.

The thunderstorm of thoughts and sensations doesn’t stop. But it no longer defines you. You can feel it, even enjoy it, and still walk calmly through it as if:
"Ah, here we go again, old friend."

So next time you find yourself frustrated, or caught in self-doubt, or overwhelmed by the vastness of it all—try to remember:
You’re inside the play. Not the truth.

And you’re allowed to carry on like a kind of amused traveler—aware that the world you see, and the thoughts you entertain, are constructed, not simply received.
Real, yes.
But not absolute.
And certainly not you.

Here’s the best part: our reactions are trainable.

While learning to witness experience without being swept away is a powerful first step, it gets even better—because when we nourish our body and mind through practice (mindfulness, movement, clean food, sleep, stillness), something happens.

Not only does our ability to notice improve, but the content itself—the thoughts, the emotions, the friction—becomes calmer.
The storm loses force. The body begins to cooperate. The nervous system softens.

You don’t have to master it. You just have to engage. The floodgates to a lighter, freer life are not locked (even though they may feel that way sometimes). They're right here—waiting for your attention. They are available to all of us.

A Mountain to Know: Mont Aiguille, France

ELEVATION: 6,820 ft / 2,085 m
LOCATION: Vercors Massif, French Prealps

Mont Aiguille rises like a stone ship out of rolling meadows—an abrupt, vertical monolith rendered against the sky. Early records referred to it as Inaccessible Mountain.

A PLACE THAT PLAYS WITH PERSPECTIVE
Depending on where you stand in the valley, Mont Aiguille appears to float, vanish, or grow taller. Its slabby walls often catch dramatic cloud banks and golden light at dusk, giving the illusion that it’s hovering. When fog creeps across the base, it becomes almost mythic—like a hallucination dropped into the French countryside.

THE ROUTE
Though not overly high, the climb is real alpine terrain. The classic ascent (via the normal route from Chichilianne) involves a long approach through forest, followed by multi-pitch scrambling and climbing (up to UIAA III) on exposed limestone faces. You’ll likely have the summit to yourself.
There’s a small flat meadow on top—quiet, wind-washed, and rather surreal.

WHEN TO CLIMB
Best in late spring to early autumn when conditions are dry. Routes can become dangerously slick in rain. Early morning light and late evening clouds make for the most dramatic visual shifts.

HISTORY & MYSTICISM
In 1492, Mont Aiguille became one of the first recorded technical climbs in Europe—ordered by King Charles VIII to prove it could be done. Since then, it’s been revered by climbers, monks, mystics, and artists alike. Its stark presence continues to spark questions: How did that thing get there?

LESSONS FROM MONT AIGUILLE
Mont Aiguille reminds us that how something looks is never the full story. From afar, it seems unreachable. From the side, flat. From the summit, endless. Our angle changes everything. Just like our thoughts, our moods, our memories—perspective creates the illusion. And knowing that, we can soften our grip and walk with curiosity, not certainty.

The mountain doesn’t change.
But how you see it might.
And that changes everything.

A Book About Giving

The Serviceberry: An Economy of Abundance by Robin Wall Kimmerer

In The Serviceberry, Robin Wall Kimmerer asks what it might look like to build an economy rooted in reciprocity rather than extraction. Drawing from Indigenous wisdom, ecological science, and the sweet, seasonal fruit of the serviceberry tree, she offers a vision of value that’s measured not in profit, but in relationship.

What if we stopped asking What can I get? and started asking What can I give?
What if growth wasn’t about accumulation, but interconnection?

Kimmerer invites us to imagine a world where generosity is the root system of our decisions—economic, personal, and planetary. A short read that might just rewire how you think about money, nature, and meaning.