Our Own Manufactured Perceptions as the Producer of Illusions

dictionary.com defines illusion as:

“Something that deceives by producing a false or misleading impression of reality.”

It is fascinating to me to think about how deception is produced. 

Is it through an out-right intention to deceive emanating from another person or entity? 

Is it an unintended deception, a misunderstanding or miscommunication, that leads to a wrong impression?

Or, and I think this is much more common that we know, is it because we, the receiver, illude ourselves? 

When this is the case, our takeaway of another person’s personality, or a company’s political and ethical climate, or a house we want to purchase, is warped, not by the person, company or house, but by our seeing—sometimes manufacturing—what we want to see.

It’s the subjectivity of existence vs. the objective.

At times in our life we can see everything as it really is with crystal clarity. 

But at other times, due to a temporary or ongoing vulnerability—sometimes lasting years—we live in a fog of our own perception. Perhaps it is out of self protection—we need to believe such and such about this person, place or thing to keep us steady and to be our anchor when we lack maturity or coping mechanisms. 

And then—what a weird but exhilarating experience—often without any warning, that person, place or thing is revealed for what it really is, and always has been.

It is when, for lack of a better phrase, “the stars align” and we feel foolish and maybe irritated for having thought otherwise all those months or years. 

This sudden spotlight that shines on friendships we thought close but never were, parents and extended families that we attempted to force into our idealist molds, and past periods of life that we had been clinging to as if they still meant something, but don’t—all of it is transformed into lucid, 20/20 vision.  

We can let go now of the dysfunctional security blanket that kept us tethered to these past fossils because we thought they must remain somehow relevant in order for us to be relevant, or to have at least not wasted our lives. 

Our illusions, those larger than life dinosaurs that roamed and stalked our inner being, become extinct; closing (to our grateful and utter relief) those history books for good. 

Recently, I looked across the table at a close friend of many years, and as our conversation turned to those we no longer stay in touch with, it dawned on me that she has traveled with me through much of my history. Yet here we were, sitting across from each other filling hours that seem like minutes with raptured conversation! I sputtered suddenly to my friend, 

“Not you! You and I  still get together because you have evolved!” 

We both thought about that, and she said, 

“The word is evolved. And you’re right. We both have evolved.” 

That is true of every close and authentic relationship I cherish today, especially with my husband, sons and daughter-in-law. 

That evolution, the heroic ability to change, is the result of each one of us taking off the rose-colored or grimy rimmed glasses, as the case may be, and seeing our past, present and future; our faith and our families; our acquaintances and personal histories, as they are, no illusions whatsoever.

The dross of illusion thus burned away, we carry on, lighthearted and still, not to be subject again to this yoke of slavery. 

Copyright Barb Harwood