A Place of Dreams

I love this dream. I lift my arms and pull myself from Earth into the brilliant sky. There is a thrilling sense of rising and great height, of floating, but not control. Whatever magic makes me fly, it mostly ignores my fledgling attempts to steer or speed ahead, and soon, the dream is gone.

I wake in a body that is often stiff and sore, and this I do not love, which raises a fundamental question. Is it enough to feel and not do, to somehow elude the difficulties of inhabiting a real body in a real world? If so, we might better remain asleep.

And yet reality has its charms, too – notably the fact that it is real. This alone might lend a measure of authority that outweighs the charm of any dream. But, curiously, it does not.

Here is the strange hallmark of humanity: this layer of consciousness that lies atop our experience, this capacity to ignore or reinterpret the data of our senses. It may produce hope in the heart of a prisoner or despair in the soul of a magnate, for it transcends physical circumstances, and – far more than our body – it expresses our unique personality and worldview.

And thus, the challenge of humanity: To use this power well. To align our understanding and imagination with reality. To be, in other words, sane.

That may not sound controversial, but it is the fight of our generation because reality itself is on trial.

Like an ancient relic, reality is often considered accidental and meaningless, an obstacle for humanity to overcome. It does not deserve our loyalty or respect. It does not embody some moral to be understood. It is raw material for us to manipulate in any way we choose.

Our new sanity is, for example, to discard the reality of Woman, though every one of us was born to a woman. Or to reject the humanity of newly conceived children, though we were all newly conceived children. Or to pronounce with the utmost dignity that luck made the world, though we know from experience that luck makes nothing.

Our new sanity is insanity, for it turns its back on the evidence that refutes it. It is a waking dream that shuts its eyes to the brilliant world. It is a lunatic, striking out in rage against the light.

Its greatest cruelty is reserved for the innocent. We have become our children’s enemies, denying their inherent value, laying traps for their inexperience, applauding their mutilation, and betraying the trust they place in us.

Our teachers’ unions and school boards were formed to support parents and promote knowledge, sparing children from pain that understanding can prevent. They now subvert parents and suppress knowledge, inviting children into irreversible pain that even rudimentary understanding could prevent.

Our new sanity lives by lies, even lies that no one believes. There are plenty of disputes but little discussion – just the full-throated roar of those who would drown out the question, the silence of those afraid to disagree, and the sophisticated censorship of dissent.

This is the new America, and there is nothing the new Americans hate more than historic America, founded on a bedrock reality they have been unable to suppress.

Our founders recognized that reality is neither accidental nor meaningless. It deserves our respect and embodies a moral easily understood: “All men are created equal” and “endowed by their Creator with inalienable rights.” They recognized that humans do, by nature, understand the “Law of Nature and of Nature’s God,” whether we admit to this knowledge or not.

Nature’s God is not a popular figure in America today. He brings clarity where clarity is not wanted. He is also our only hope for waking from the cruelty and insanity that surround us.

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