Let's try another exercise in philosophical imagination. Suppose Platonism and dualism are true. Then consider a theory on which our souls actually inhabit a purely mathematical universe. All the things we ever observe—dust, brains, bodies, stars and the like—are just mathematical entities. As our souls go through life, they become "attached" to different bits and pieces of the mathematical universe. This may happen according to a deterministic schedule, but it could also happen an indeterministic way: today you're attached to part of a mathematical object A1, and tomorrow you might be attached to B2 or C2, instead. You might even have free will. One model for this is the traveling minds story, but with mathematical reality in the place of physical reality.
This is a realist idealism. The physical reality around us on this story is really real. It's just not intrinsically different from other bits of Platonic mathematical reality. The only difference between our universe and some imaginary 17-dimensional toroidal universe is that the mathematical entities constituting our universe are connected with souls, while those constituting that one are not.
One might wonder if this is really a form of idealism. After all, it really does posit physical reality. But physical reality ends up being nothing but Platonic reality.
The view is akin to Tegmark's ultimate ensemble picture, supplemented with dualism.
Given Platonism and dualism, this story is an attractive consequence of Ockham's Razor. Why have two kinds of things—the physical universe and the mathematical entities that represent the physical universe? Why not suppose they are the same thing? And, look, how neatly we solve the problem of how we have mathematical knowledge—we are acquainted with mathematical objects much as we are with tables and chairs.
"But we can just see that chairs and tables aren't made of mathematical entities?" you may ask. This, I think, confuses not seeing that chairs and tables are made of mathematical entities with seeing that they are not made of them. Likewise, we do not see that chairs and tables are made of fundamental particles, but neither do we see that they are not made of them. The fundamental structure of much of physical reality is hidden from our senses.
So what do we learn from this exercise? The view is, surely, absurd. Yet given Platonism and dualism, Ockham's razor strongly pulls to it. Does this give us reason to reject Platonism or dualism? Quite possibly.