Some people get really rattled by their world shaking just a little. It doesn't take much for them to freak out. One bomb miles away, but in their safe country or one bad grade that hardly threatens their academic career and they panic. I like to think I'm a bit more hearty than that. I suffer from the same anxiety as everyone else, but for some reason it doesn't surprise me when something I thought was true isn't anymore. You're expecting me to say it's because my world was shaken when I had a heart transplant, but I think my mistrust of everything started long before this blog.
I won't go into the physics of it here, but a fact is that when you look at electrons or atoms, you can't really talk about where they are. The truth is that in the real world most things don't have an actual, fixed position. Everything we see every day could be anywhere. It is only most likely to be where you think it is. It makes all of matter seem sort of sketchy. Most people have a hard time with this concept. I think I have an easier time than most. People trust their eyes far too much. I don't. Playing frisbee or catch with me is quite the experience. I'm always guessing. The thing isn't there until I catch it. When somebody throws something at me my depth perception isn't good enough to give me a location of the object, only a vague idea of where it was thrown from.
I've never trusted my eyes. I've never trusted the world around me to be stable because things don't exist until I touch them. When there are bombers in my city or extra tests at the end of the semester that come from nowhere I am slightly less surprised than everybody else. I don't like it. I hate change. I resist anything being different partly because once I let go of the known I can't trust anything again, but I'm not alarmed. I just get sad that the atoms I thought were there, the things I thought I knew, really were optical illusions all along.