The Realness of your Reality

What defines reality? I ask this because reality is based off perception. Then perception is based of an individual experience, and every individual is made different. Meaning everyone has this different individualized, reality. How can you tell when something is real? The phrases and the questions tied to reality are often peculiar too: does if feel real? What does something real feel like exactly? I catch people saying “Real Talk” all the time, but what distinguishes dialogue and conversation from this so called “Real Talk” that you seem to be having. But going back to these peculiar statements, often framed as questions: How can you feel realness? How do you know when realness approaches you? How do you know when realness is so up in your face that you are almost up close and personal making out with it, to then think am I really making out with it? Is it really up in my face?

Time travel with me, because it seems like some realness never changes. The perplexity of your dreams. How far fetched, how far reaching, how unreal they can be. However, they are very much our own interpretation of realness because we set out to attain them, live them, accomplish them, these dreams. No matter how complex, or how unrealistic, we live life with that goal of living our dreams.

I will borrow some words from my favorite author of all time, J.K Rowling, in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows there was a particular moment where it all comes together: “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?’ But there it is, exactly that. Our perception of what is real begins with what we are envisioning, followed by an emotion it evokes and then if it makes us feel uncomfortable we then question the validity of its “realness.” But if it was in your head, it was real to you that very moment you envisioned it.

I grew up an only child living with my mom in Brooklyn. We had this dingy run down sort of apartment in 46th street, two blocks from the park where I spent the great majority of my childhood. We lived with one of my mother’s friends mostly because we couldn’t afford a place of our own, but what I vividly remember was the room me and my mother shared. It was small, but very much ours, full of natural lighting, my bed against these this long panel of windows where on the sill I would rest my books and puzzles. Our furniture was basically crammed together creating tiny passages for walking space near the door and towards our beds. There was enough room to sit on the floor and spread your legs outwards in the dead center of the room. In that space in particular, I was a teacher. I was the Headmistress. I used to have these little plastic stools my mom bought for me to sit and do my homework in, that became the long tables that represented each of the four different houses. I never taught magic, but I taught them my science homework, my complicated math and my most favorite, history. I had a whole classroom in my room when my mom would go to work and I would stay home. Reading this, it comes as something completely ludicrous but it was my reality, and how I fell in love with teaching. I knew I wanted to be a teacher when I felt how real and how passionate I became of being able to come home so passionate about what I learned that I immediately wanted to teach others.

Teaching is such an overlooked, under appreciated profession when it is actually the most rewarding. I dream to be a teacher someday, and that is what I consider in your face real at the moment. Although still not so close for me to grasp, it is one of those things that I have a fire for burning inside because its been a reality in my head since I was a little girl. In my head my room would come alive, be filled with questions, and students talking. I envisioned the classroom that had cauldrons at the end of the room and filled with vapors. Although this was clearly in my head, it doesn’t stop it from being my reality. My imagination is definitely something that keeps me sane and driven, which I am thankful for everyday. The greatest of innovations, all started a simple dream, perceived as reality, made come true.

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