Nice passage in a recent post at Rigorous Intuition:

I resist the trippy impulse to say “everything is an illusion” (that includes the icky corollary, “everything but love”). It strikes me as an adolescent retreat from mundane affairs and a surrender of the world to the forces of death and darkness. Rather, I find myself preferring everything is real. Even our apparent illusions. I think maybe that’s the ground upon which we can pitch our battle. And Life hasn’t lost yet.

For a similar discussion held on this site, check out this old post of mine.