A cold wind blows on your face. You feel the wind, which is actual. You’re aware of the cold, which is relative. You experience discomfort, which is abstract.
You’re present at an automobile accident. You see a situation gone wrong, which is actual. You’re aware of a mess and people suffering, which are relative. You experience horror, which is abstract.
A bird sings on a nearby tree. You hear a vibrating column of air, which is actual. You’re aware of a harmonious sound, which is relative. You experience pleasure, which is abstract.
It’s beginning to seem as though all life as perceived by the sensory faculties leads to the abstract, so maybe experiencing the abstract is really all that life is about.
This is just a muse off the top of my head. I very much doubt that I’m the first to think along these lines, and there’s probably a convincing argument to refute it. It’s just that I’ve had an uncommonly busy day and wanted to type something now that the darkness has fallen and the curtains are closed.
(Living with me must have been awful.)