Everything. Every object of human experience, for every human being.
Real: every table and chair, every rock and tree, every force of nature.
Real: Every god ever prayed to, every demon ever feared, every spirit ever venerated. Yawheh, Jesus, Allah, Manitou, Q’uq’umatz, Ogoun, Yggdrasil, Athena: all of them, real.
Real also: the world without gods, the world of atheists in which body is all there is.
Real: every nation, every community, every form of identity inhabited by humans.
Real: every law or duty or right ever claimed in the heat of conflict or the calm of peace.
Real: all objects and events in fictions. Jane Eyre and Lancelot, the taming of the shrew and the War of the Ring.
Real: every passing ephemeral thought, every dream, every fevered or schizophrenic hallucination.
Every body, and every spirit, and every movement in between. No object of experience any more or less real than any other.
Some experiences we find more useful and reliable as guides to present actions than others.
Some experiences we can ignore or let go of more easily than others.
Some experiences we share more in common than others, find easier to communicate than others, feel more deeply and indelibly than others.
All of the many distinctions evoked by the word ‘real’ still apply, except the only one which that word alone conveys: no experience has a greater or lesser share of Being than others.
The word ‘real’ would no longer make any difference. We would have to use other words, with other meanings, to make our distinctions.
We would accept two claims: that human beings live in multiple worlds, and that these worlds overlap. By letting go of a fixed attachment to any one particular reality, we could travel from one world to another, communicate, build relationships. In this way we could learn to struggle together.