...with a capital T

I have two friends - who remind me of one another in some ways, both older, presumably wiser, and certainly more set in most of their philosophical opinions than I am - who lent me quotes about their ideas on the concept of truth. They each keep a handy satchel of quotes on their person at all times, so they could easily spare these for me to borrow and consider. Granted, they appeared at very different times in my life, they must have been somehow memorable, because their contrast strikes me now, much later.

One said "Thought, in its purest form and as strongly as you can believe in it, is your reality." What you believe is, in essence, your truth.

The other said "The truth doesn't change by how many people know it."

The latter I find comforting on many occasions when I feel injustice is involved, and I stamp my feet in the face of ignorant assumptions and unfair assessments that don't give the accused an opportunity to defend against the charges laid at those stamping feet. But if you consider the first quote, an equally logical and valid philosophy, the second can hardly be true. I suppose it's mostly in how you define truth - but isn't that the issue in question?

Last week, I traveled to the Summer Palace with a small group of other tourists, one of whom is a kindergarten teacher. When we first walked in, we faced a statue of an interesting creature, an amalgam of other animals, as though crafted from a junk yard of leftover parts. Our tour guide informed us rather emphatically that this creature was in fact imaginary, and not extinct. It never existed. Not even when the palace was built long ago. Not extinct, but imaginary.

My friend, the kindergarten teacher, expressed amusement, as she'd recently had the same discussion with her students about this distinction. Dinosaurs are extinct because they once existed and no longer do, whereas Barney the dinosaur is imaginary because he never existed (except of course, in our imaginations. and on television).

This is an interesting distinction in any case, but especially, I think, with regard to the truth.

Given the two quotes above that play a bit of a tug-of-war on the issue of truth, is the concept of truth imaginary? Does an actual truth exist, especially if no one knows it? If truth just a concept we have created to assure us that something is absolute, and beyond our mortal comprehension, but certainly there, assuring us that someone, somewhere knows what is True? Is the idea of a single truth so ridiculous and impossible that it must, in fact, be imaginary?

Or did it once exist in pure form, even if only for the moment it happened, only to be axed a moment later? Once it has been marred and muddled with opinion and perception and assumption and ignorance, and no one can think it, does truth become a silent felled tree?

I notice that at some point I began choosing to capitalize "Truth" throughout these sentences - perhaps in longing for the existence of this idolized concept, or perhaps because it's now a proper noun, like any fictional character name. Does my subconscious mean "Truth" like "Zeus" or like "Barney" or like "God"?

Is it so prevalent in colloquial lore that Truth becomes the stuff of legend? It must exist, everyone knows about it. We're expected to "tell the truth" - but from the beginning, we're not entirely sure what that means. Two kindergarteners can be certain their opposing stories of the same encounter are both the truth. But we accept that it's something we're supposed to understand, and perpetuate and fight for and support. Do we all just muddle through it, pretending we get it, like a calculus lesson that's so complex that it won't be on the test, or a ninth grade unit on existentialism?

China doesn't seem to give the concept a moment's thought on a daily basis; daily Truth is often inconsequential and gets in the way of things like authority and obedience. They've been around quite a while and don't seem to be haunted by the idea of what is true. More so with what is. I'm not sure I would have previously identified a difference. But "Truth" is just that - an idea. In pursuit of truth, then, are we just chasing an impossibly idealistic dream - either of what was, or of what could be?

Is Truth imaginary? Or is it just extinct?