When Reality Is Fading, Write in Vivid Color
What is real?
With AI infiltrating everything we do, and politics convincing us that hatred and vindication are desirable traits, and change coming at a pace that induces whiplash, reality becomes hard to distinguish. At best, reality is blurry—and blurring.
I see videos of the California wildfires, and while I know the fires are real, I don’t always know which reels are. I have family members who endured Hurricane Helene. These disasters are beyond devastating, yet the illegitimacy of AI-created disaster videos could easily dismiss the real experience of a region of hurting people.
How often have you been scrolling on social media, only to read comments with inflammatory responses to even the most (seemingly) benign posts? I don’t know if those are real people, or bots.
Does it matter?
In 1994, I traveled to Russia with a student group. I feel fortunate to have been there at this time in history, especially after growing up during the Cold War. While Russia was technically (and suddenly) a democracy of sorts, remnants of their past remained like a garment no one knew how to shed.
“Are those police real?” we asked the Russian students we were traveling on the tram with, after some men demanded we pay a fine for not having the right ticket.
We had the right ticket.
“We don’t know,” they answered, “but you still need to pay them.”
I’ve thought about this often over the years. It was as if the truth didn’t matter, because whatever it was, the consequence was the same: we’d be forced to pay. Citizens had grown numb to the abuse of power, so they’d stopped questioning.
What are we willing to pay for in the face of an “altered reality”? Whether it’s AI or not, it’s getting harder to tell what’s true, what’s real, and what matters. It’s getting easier to pay the price either way, because we’re tired.
So what should we do? What can we do?
Since this blog relates to writing, let me bring it back on brand. In a world where we feel out of control, and where our minds bend to see or process what’s really going on, writing helps you document what’s real.
Your ideas are real. Your story is real. By documenting those things, reality gets to live another day. And the more you observe and document—basic rules I was taught in journalism class—the easier it will get to see through the fog.
Documenting your perspective also helps society get a broader picture of what is real. If I’m standing on one side of a mountain, and you’re sitting on the other, our perspectives are different, but the mountain is real. Let’s observe, write about, and then read about the mountain together. Maybe listening to one another starts with seeing.
If you’re struggling to get started—to refocus in a pixelated world—see if any of these ideas resonate:
Bring your mind back to your grade-school days of playing in the creek. You could feel the cold water—and in my case, salmon fingerlings—around your ankles and hear the laughter of your neighbors. It was real. Write about that.
Think about a loss or trauma you’ve overcome. The pain and resilience you showed were real. Write about that.
Go outside and observe something. Maybe it’s a bird scratching, a neighbor mowing, or a bus driving by. Write about that.
Sit down with your child or mother. Have a conversation that makes you laugh—or cry. Write about that.
Whatever is keeping you up at night—whether it’s a business idea, an imaginary conversation you need to make real, or an acute observation of current affairs—write about that.
It’s hard to know what tomorrow will look like, but if you write about today, you’ll see more clearly. And just maybe, your words will help to ground someone else in knowing it’s worth fighting for their reality.
How can you get started today?
