The Difference

It was not a dream like any of the others. We talked long, the woman and I, walking through a dark endless alley. She said that there is no meaning outside this place, there is only void and chaos. This is where the meaning is. And she said that we must all find a door which does not open at some point in our lives. We must forgive the limits of thought, yet never cease to hate them. She said many things, and after she had said these things I remembered, finally, to ask her who she was. 

“I am the sun.”

“The sun in the sky?” I said.

“The sun in the sky, but I am walking with you now.”

I saw how she shone then, but differently than light. I said, “Will you tell me something? I think I have been afraid for a long time. How do we know that everything is not just an appearance, an illusion? A dream? How do I know I am really talking to you?”

She was quiet for a long while.

“Tell me,” she said at last, “if the world were an illusion, how would it look? If it were real, how would it look? Where is the difference? There is no other way things could be.”

But just as I began to understand this, I woke.