Defiltrate

You, gene machine. You must remove your filters.

Ok, I know it's radical. I know the whole point of media and advertising and communicating and sorting and listing is to filter out the important from the unimportant. To let you see your own personalized chunk of the big picture, once and for all, in all its elegant simplicity.

I also understand that the wave of technology might have you feeling like you're awash in an inescapable deluge at times; but of all things, this filtering, it's a truly stifled illusion. The world has always been this complicated. We've just been able to hide behind the ignorance of locality. Withdraw into the immediate mundane. Until today.

I know. I know those other blogs want you to be productive. They want you to settle on your own judgments, hopefully in their favor, and just plug away in one direction until you succeed or are forced to quit. To work hard is to adorn yourself with blinders. Or so it would seem. But, do you really need to limit your scope?

Filters are things that need removal. They may seem to simplify, but the vacuum this exclusion creates sucks in flow like the morbid ghost of a supernova. It limits flow, limits scope, limits being. It puts boundaries on your mental map, when there is no actual limit to your mind's capacity. A filter assumes that human consciousness cannot adapt to the limitless flow of reality and information. But, Our spirit, awake, overcomes the routine systems of an animal brain.

Like a proteal gene, all of the information over our heads and between our ears has originated at our own birth, and also at the birth of a friend, a father, a great-great-great-great-grandmother, the birth of the human race, the birth of the earth. The birth of Time and Existence itself is elastically linked to what it carries forth. If this moment is the only one in existence, if each moment is born anew, then how is all information not lost in transit? The code must exist, in every thing, at every moment. At the very instance of birth, how does the infant know to eat, to breathe, to drink?

The infant knows it's origin. Until he adopts the strictures of language and overcomes his physical feebleness, the newborn soul is confined to a bubble on the surface of a new world, and like the new kid in school he is able to retain the knowledge of love and hunger and pain from his last home. You can't know what he knows; his entrance to the social realm forces him to empty his cup before he can even pour a drop into yours. But who are we to say that any thing would be impossible? That there is no consciousness before social awareness? There is no science of the soul; and I'd posit that the newborn child is the wisest human existence.

Why? Because he has no filters to constrain him. He is open to the full influx.

Realize that the world that exists is not only touchable as corporeality outside of your skull, but that the boundaries are soft, a membranous allowance, the churning reality of chemical, energy, particle as one fluid mass: to know every speck that enters and exits the space behind my eyes, and yet know a sum total of nothing, because there is no hand waiting to wring the meaning out of it, to judge it, to deem it worthy of this category or that. No thing to filter it.

Feel the freedom you already have, but also fear.

Find that fear is only the shadow of hope. And lovingly mix it back in.

So, y'know, fuck those productive jerks. But, cuddle them afterwards.