What do we truly mean by “reality”?
A Sikh Reflection on Finding the Real
Dr. Devinder Pal Singh
In my everyday life, I often assume that what I perceive is real. The material world appears solid and convincing. My successes feel meaningful; my failures, painful; my identity fixed. Yet, Sikh thought gently unsettles this certainty. It teaches that the world, as I grasp it, is not false in the sense of being non-existent, but it is transient; constantly changing, fleeting, and therefore not the ultimate reality.
The Gurus describe this condition as being under the influence of Maya. This does not mean the world is an illusion to be rejected, but rather that my attachment to it, my tendency to treat the temporary as permanent, is what veils truth. I begin to see that my anxieties, ambitions, and even my sense of self are deeply entangled in this illusion of permanence. (Image: Courtesy AI) Then arises a deeper inquiry within me: If this is not the ultimate reality, then what is?
Sikhism answers with profound simplicity: Ik Oankaar: the One, the Eternal Reality. This foundational concept is not an abstract idea but a living truth. It points to a singular, all-pervading existence that underlies everything. This Reality is not separate from the world; it is present within it, sustaining it, and expressing itself through it.
As I reflect on Ik Oankaar, I begin to sense that reality is not something “out there” to be discovered like an object. It is something that must be realized within. The Gurus do not ask me to escape the world but to see it correctly; to recognize the Divine presence within all creation.
But then comes the most personal and challenging question: How can I find this reality for myself?
The teachings of Guru Nanak Dev Ji offer a clear yet demanding path. He emphasizes that truth cannot be found through mere intellectual reasoning or ritual practices. It must be experienced through a transformation of consciousness.
One of the first steps on this path is Naam Simran, the remembrance and meditation on the Divine Name. At first, I misunderstood this as simple repetition. But gradually, I realize it is about attuning my awareness to the Divine's presence in every moment. When I consciously remember the Divine, my scattered mind begins to settle. My attention shifts from the noise of thoughts to a deeper stillness.
In this stillness, something remarkable happens. I begin to experience a subtle clarity, a sense that beneath all the fluctuations of my mind, there is a constant presence. This presence is not separate from me, yet it is not limited by my ego. It feels vast, peaceful, and deeply real.
This brings me to another crucial teaching in Sikhism: the challenge of Haumai, or ego. The Gurus describe the ego as the fundamental barrier between me and reality. It is the sense of “I” and “mine” that creates separation between myself and others, between myself and the Divine.
When I observe my daily life, I see how pervasive this ego is. I seek recognition, I defend my opinions, and I compare myself to others. Even my spiritual efforts can become ego-driven. As long as I am centred in this “I,” my perception of reality remains distorted.
The Sikh path, therefore, calls me to transcend ego, not by rejecting my individuality, but by dissolving my attachment to it. This is not an easy task. It requires humility, self-awareness, and constant effort. Yet, the more I let go of my egoic tendencies, the more I feel connected to others, to nature, and to something greater than myself.
Another guiding principle in this journey is Seva (selfless service). At first, it may seem unrelated to the search for reality. But as I engage in acts of service without expectation, I notice a shift within me. My focus moves away from myself. I begin to experience a sense of unity with others.
In these moments, reality feels less fragmented. The boundaries between “self” and “other” soften. I begin to understand, not just intellectually but experientially, that the same Divine essence flows through all beings.
Sikhism also emphasizes the importance of living in Hukam (the Divine Order). This concept challenges my desire for control. I often resist what happens in my life, labelling events as good or bad according to my preferences. But the Gurus teach that everything unfolds within a larger cosmic order.
Accepting Hukam does not mean passive resignation. Rather, it is an invitation to align myself with reality as it is, rather than how I wish it to be. When I begin to accept life’s circumstances with grace, I experience less inner turmoil. I become more present, more grounded.
So what can I do, practically, to find this reality?
First, I can cultivate Naam Simran in my daily life. Even a few moments of mindful remembrance can reconnect me with the deeper presence within.
Second, I can observe my ego. Instead of reacting impulsively, I can pause and ask: Is this my ego speaking? This simple awareness can gradually loosen its grip.
Third, I can engage in Seva. By serving others selflessly, I move closer to the experience of unity.
Fourth, I can accept Hukam. Rather than resisting life, I can learn to flow with it, trusting that there is a deeper wisdom at play.
Finally, I can remain anchored in Sangat, the company of those who walk a similar path. Being in such an environment strengthens my resolve and deepens my understanding.
As I continue this journey, I realize that, in the Sikh sense, reality is not something distant or hidden. It is already present; within me, around me, in every breath I take. The challenge is not to find it, but to remove the layers that prevent me from seeing it.
The Gurus remind me that truth is not achieved through escape from the world, but through living in it with awareness, humility, and love. Reality is not separate from life; it is life, seen clearly.
In the end, my question transforms. Instead of asking, What is reality? I begin to ask, How can I live in truth?
And perhaps, in that shift itself, I come a little closer to the answer.
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