Are you sure you're the one reading this text right now? Strange question. But let's be honest: there's an intermediary between these letters and your consciousness. A strict, authoritarian, and not always honest one. We're used to trusting our eyes, but magicians and optical illusions have long proven: eyes lie. The brain lies. We don't see the world. We only see its convenient version, which has passed strict censorship.
The world, in essence, is nothing. It is neutral. It's just an endless stream of photons, sound waves, temperature changes, and chemical reactions. If our brain honestly processed everything that falls on it every second, we would go crazy instantly. We would burn out like an old light bulb from a power surge.
Imagine a basketball player in the championship final. The roar of the stands, the flashes of cameras, the smell of sweat, the pain in the knee, the trajectory of the ball, the coach's shout. If he starts to realize all of this, he will miss. His brain does a brilliant thing — it cuts off 99% of reality. It leaves only the hoop and the ball. The rest is in the trash.
This is filtering. Survival through ignoring. We don't choose what to see — autopilot does it for us. And everything would be fine if this autopilot was configured perfectly. But it fails. Constantly.
Filters don't come from nowhere. This is not a factory firmware, the same for everyone. This is a custom build that you (often unconsciously) have been collecting for years. Brick by brick.
Your experience is the main architect. Burned by nettles as a child? Now any carved greenery causes subconscious wariness. Were you betrayed by a man in an expensive suit? Now elegance for you is synonymous with danger. And for your neighbor, whom the same man saved, a suit is a sign of reliability. You are looking at the same man. You see a threat, the neighbor sees protection. Who is right? No one. And both.
The psyche is not looking for truth. It doesn't care about objectivity. Its task is consistency. It needs the world to be understandable, not truthful. That is why arguing with conspiracy theorists is useless. Tell a flat-Earth supporter about satellites, and he will not see the fact. He will see "a fabricated fake of the world government." His filter simply will not let in information that threatens the integrity of his house of cards.
It's scary to think about. We live in bubbles whose walls are mirrored on the inside.
If we disassemble our "optics" into details, we can highlight three main lenses through which we look at life. They work always, even when you sleep.
Remember a moment when you were truly in love. Did the world seem brighter? People kinder? Even the slush under your feet looked romantic. Now remember the day when you were gripped by fear or deep resentment. The same city, the same streets, but everything is gray, hostile, prickly.
Emotion is not just a reaction. It's a sharpness and color correction setting. In anger, a person literally develops tunnel vision — he physically stops seeing the periphery and future options. There is only the irritant "here and now." Fear narrows the world down to the size of a threat. Resentment makes you look for a catch even in a compliment.
Words are not just sounds. These are molds for reality. We cannot conceive of something for which we have no words.
Try a simple test. Your colleague stayed late at work to double-check the report. What will you call it?
— If you like him, you will say: "He is so responsible and meticulous."
— If he annoys you, you will say: "He's a slow bore, he doesn't know how to plan his time."
The fact is the same: a person is sitting at a table at 19:00. But reality changes depending on which word you choose. By naming something, we fix it. The word becomes a cage from which meaning can no longer escape.
Previously, these filters were set by parents and school. "It's a shame to do that," "boys don't cry," "you can't earn big money honestly." Now the most powerful amplifier has joined them — algorithms.
We think we choose information. Illusion. Algorithms quickly realized what we like and began to feed us only this. A liberal sees a feed where the world is rolling into the abyss of totalitarianism. A conservative sees a feed where the world is collapsing from debauchery. They live on neighboring streets, but on different planets. The Internet has not expanded horizons, it has narrowed them to the size of a comfortable echo chamber.
There is such a term — "Mowgli children." Those who grew up in the jungle or in isolation, without human society. This is who sees the world without filters. They have no morality, no shame, no ambitions, no words. They see pure "now." And you know what? They are not people in the full sense of the word. It is almost impossible to return them to society.
Our filters are the price of humanity. This is our protection and our interface for interaction. You can't get rid of them completely, and you don't need to — the brain will simply burn out from overload.
But we can do something. We can learn to wipe these glasses.
The next time you are absolutely, 100% sure that you are right, pause. Take a breath. And ask yourself: "What if this is not a fact, but my interpretation?". What if the rudeness of the saleswoman is not about you, but about her fatigue? What if a friend's silence is not an ignore, but his internal struggle?
Doubt is the best cloth for wiping optics. The world is getting more complicated, yes. Fewer guarantees. But it's easier to breathe. And sometimes, through the muddy glass of habits, the real, living beauty of the moment suddenly appears. And for the sake of this, it is probably worth risking your righteousness.