What Is Real?

We live inside invisible ideas about what is real. Most of the time, we don’t even notice. Until something cracks open.

Ontology is the study of being. It asks what exists, what is real, and how we know. It is not just abstract philosophy. Ontology shapes how we live, what we believe, and what we think is possible. If your ontology tells you that only what can be measured is real, then mystery becomes irrelevant. If it tells you that spirit is part of nature, then dreams, intuition, and strange encounters carry meaning.

Most of the time, we inherit our ontology through culture, language, school, religion, and social norms. It becomes the framework we use to understand the world. But sometimes something happens that shakes that framework.

That is where ontological shock comes in.

Ontological shock is what happens when something breaks our idea of reality. It is not just confusing or surprising. It shakes the foundation. It forces a reckoning. It leaves us asking if anything we thought we knew is still true.

This kind of shock is not only intellectual. It is felt in the body. I often think of it not as a jolt but as a wave. Like a sneaker wave that pulls you under. You tumble. You can’t tell which way is up. You need deep breaths. You come up changed.

Heidegger warned that modern life forgets Being. That we no longer ask what it means to exist at all. Ontological shock makes us remember. It calls us back to the roots. Heidegger believed that the most real experiences come when our familiar world breaks apart and we glimpse something deeper, something more true.

While Heidegger calls us to remember Being, many Indigenous worldviews never lost it. They already hold space for multiple layers of reality. Spirit worlds, animal and earth consciousness, ancestor communication, and dreamtime are all considered real. These are not metaphors. They are lived experiences. In these traditions, the boundaries between material and spiritual, seen and unseen, are more fluid. There is not one reality but many.

In Western culture, we are trained to separate. We divide spirit from science, mind from body, and human from nature. So when an experience crosses those lines—like a UAP encounter, a prophetic dream, or a message from the dead—we often do not know how to respond. We call it unreal. We push it aside. But it stays with us. And those who live through it can find themselves in a kind of exile.

That exile, though, can lead somewhere new. The shock can open a door. It can make us more curious, more humble, and more awake to the presence of mystery. It can return us to a place of learning, where we ask better questions and listen more closely.

The question is not just, “Did it happen?”
It becomes, “What kind of world must exist for this to be possible?”
And maybe even, “What kind of person do I need to become to live in that world?”

If the reality of non-human intelligences is ever confirmed in a public and undeniable way, the shock to our collective worldview could be immense. A sudden shift like that, what some call catastrophic disclosure, has the potential to destabilize everything from religion to science to personal identity. But we do not have to wait for that moment to begin thinking differently.

By opening space for questions about reality, intelligence, and the unknown—especially with young people—we keep the mind flexible. We allow for imagination, dialogue, and preparation. We leave room for mystery. In doing so, we may soften the blow of future shocks and help the next generation meet them not with fear, but with resilience, curiosity, and centeredness.