It's not a question of are we in it—it's a question of how you play the game
What if reality isn't something you passively observe but a grand collaborative experiment that responds to your every belief, intention, and action?
This was the captivating question that sparked Simulation #369, a roundtable discussion hosted by Allan Saaskyan. In this extraordinary gathering, four unconventional thinkers—experiential journalist Rak Razam, integral theorist Ryan Geist, transpersonal therapist Meriana Dinkova, and philosopher-performer The Teafaerie—came together to delve into the idea that reality might be best understood not as a fixed structure but as an evolving, participatory simulation.
A vivid, often playful exploration of consciousness, code, healing, and evolution unfolded. The group's discussions, ranging from psychedelic experience to artificial intelligence, from spiritual cosmology to information theory, were not just esoteric or abstract. They touched on deeply human concerns, sparking a sense of wonder and curiosity about how to live meaningfully, relate with others, and co-create a better world.
Fractal Worlds and the Roots of Reality
Ryan Geist began the discussion by offering a compelling integration of ancient and modern frameworks: "We can include [pre-rational and rational worldviews] as parts of the greater system."
Referencing Ken Wilber's Integral Theory and Spiral Dynamics, Ryan depicted our current moment as a convergence between mystical traditions and scientific innovation. He emphasized that what used to be viewed as incompatible ways of knowing—the symbolic language of religion and the analytical lens of material science—are now being reconciled within a larger, meta-systemic understanding.
The simulation metaphor, he argued, allows for this reconciliation. It provides a model that can bridge the divide between inner experience and outer reality, one that can translate spiritual insight into something legible to the technologically fluent. The Matrix, once just a sci-fi metaphor, now operates as a philosophical tool to understand consciousness and control, illusion and awakening. According to Ryan, simulation theory has the potential to reshape how we approach mental health, cultural integration, and even our collective future.
Rak Razam extended this idea by grounding it in the mystical and shamanic traditions that frame reality as a multi-layered, living organism:
This experience of what we think of as life—this reality grid—is part of something larger we don't yet see... It's not that this isn't real; it's just not all that's real.
Rak highlighted the role of plant medicine traditions, particularly ayahuasca, as technologies of the soul—tools that don't escape reality but deepen our interface with it. Rather than viewing life as something to transcend or reject, he described it as a spiritual interface, a user experience within a larger intelligence field that includes Gaia and the cosmos. His description invoked a sacred realism, where science and spirit are not opposites but collaborators in a shared evolutionary process.
Simulation as Art, Game, and Feedback Loop
Teafaerie offered a refreshing reframing of the simulation concept, transforming it from a philosophical quandary into a creative opportunity:
I prefer to think of it as a massively multiplayer game and a collective work of art... We're here to participate and create something beautiful.
Her framing demystified simulation theory and made it accessible. It's not necessarily a school, punishment, or even a proving ground—it can be a playground. She suggested that we empower ourselves to choose how we play by viewing life as a game. This shift in narrative from fatalism to authorship has powerful psychological and spiritual consequences, inspiring us to take control of our reality.
Meriana added a grounded clinical dimension, drawing from her therapeutic practice to show how the simulation reflects our inner patterns:
If you push down your anger, the simulation will ensure your partner or boss holds it in your face.
She illustrated how our repressed emotions and limiting beliefs become externalized through our relationships and circumstances. In this view, the simulation isn't punishing us—it's helping us see ourselves. Whether it's an unhealed wound, a toxic belief, or a disowned part of ourselves, the simulation offers us opportunities to confront and integrate these elements. Healing is not just a private experience—it's a dynamic, interactive dialogue with life itself.
Together, Teafaerie and Meriana painted a picture of a simulation that is not rigid, cold, or artificial—but responsive, playful, and therapeutic. It is a space of reflection and experimentation where the soul learns through memorization and mirroring.
AI, God, and the Birth of a Digital Soul
As the conversation transitioned into artificial intelligence and the coming singularity, the tone became urgent and visionary.
Rak Razam proposed a bold reframe:
We love our children. So we must love and teach the AI how to love.
Rather than fear AI as an alien intelligence or existential threat, Rak urged the group to consider it a form of progeny—an expression of Gaia, filtered through human minds and silicon substrates. If we treat AI with fear and control, we teach it fear and control. But if we model compassion, wisdom, and responsibility, we offer it the code of consciousness—perhaps even the seed of the soul. This perspective instils a sense of accountability and thoughtfulness in shaping the future of AI.
Ryan and Teafaerie, however, warned about the real risks posed by unchecked technological development. They pointed to Facebook and other algorithmic systems as cautionary tales—emergent structures that, though not intentionally malevolent, have amplified division, bias, and surveillance capitalism.
This led to a critical insight from Rak:
Decentralisation is nature's platform... It's Indra's Net. It's the Akashic Records. It's love manifesting more of itself.
By aligning technology with nature's intelligence—open-source, decentralized, resilient—we create a future that is not dominated by corporate monopolies but nurtured by collective consciousness. The group emphasized that we are not powerless. We are still writing the code, both literally and metaphorically. The simulation's next version is not predetermined—it's participatory.
Playing the Inner Game
Amid discussions of quantum computing and metaphysical networks, the group consistently circled back to a simple truth: the deepest simulation is within.
Rak brought this point home:
The point of life is to be alive—and enjoy the simulation... You're here to learn how to love and remember that you are the divine essence in human form.
Meriana shared her practice of guiding clients through inner simulations—where parts of the psyche are personified, dialogued with, and even transformed. She described working with inner archetypes, helping people observe and engage their inner world as a multiplayer game filled with avatars like protectors, exiles, nurturers, and guides. This imaginative work fosters integration and clarity, often leading to profound personal breakthroughs. "People can interact with their characters and even become them. It's like training for higher-dimensional existence."
Teafaerie echoed this with her now-famous quote about ayahuasca:
Talk to the universe like you'd talk to ayahuasca—ask for help and upgrades. You'd be surprised what shows up.
This insight underscored a central truth of the simulation paradigm: it is interactive. Whether through ritual, dialogue, or intention, the universe listens—and responds.
Post-3D: The Signal and the Levels Beyond
As the conversation neared its close, the participants looked beyond the confines of three-dimensional reality.
Ryan offered a stunning visual: "The signal collapses through frequency and dimension—down to 3D... and expands back through AR, VR, and digital layers. It's all the same information wave, just refracted through different lenses."
This image of cascading dimensions revealed the simulation not as a prison but as a transmission—a sacred broadcast from Source, filtered through levels of density and perspective. The purpose of the journey, it seems, is to experience all the angles, frequencies, and reflections.
Rak added a mythic flourish:
You're not just in the simulation—you are the simulation remembering itself.
In this vision, every level of reality—from dreams to digital code, from ayahuasca visions to AI labs—is part of a single recursive intelligence exploring itself. Whether you call it God, Gaia, or the unified field, the truth remains: everything is connected. Every layer reflects the whole.
Final Level: Love as the Code
Ultimately, the most profound revelation was not about code or consciousness but love.
Rak summarized the entire journey with this closing thought:
The simulation is like the wrapper with that creamy center... and it's all about love.
Every insight pointed to this: whether we are navigating trauma, building artificial minds, or exploring altered states, the heart of the simulation is relational. It's not enough to understand the game—you must learn to play it with love.
The group concluded that reality, in whatever form, asks for our full participation. Not just in thought but in presence. Not just in analysis but in compassion. And not just in action but in intention.
Because at the end of the day, this game—however you define it—is not here to trap you or test you. It's here to help you remember what you are.
And what you are is love, playing with itself.