What fascinates me most is that the brain doesn’t simply record life — it organizes life into meaning. That may be why certain people, memories, and emotional patterns become so hard to let go of. I’m exploring this exact territory on my channel: the hidden psychology behind human behavior, relationships, and identity.
Interesting, i never thought i needed it. But i did realize that in a good story. You can learn a lot from them. Art imitates life, doesn't it? And what is a good story? I'd say it's art.
Humans need stories and fiction as tools to project their desire for separation, but these same stories can be repurposed by inner wisdom (the Holy Spirit) to teach unconditional forgiveness and reflect spiritual truth.
The truth is that physicality is a mental illusion or a collective fiction, that the mind created to escape the truth of Heaven. Human stories simply act as tools the mind uses to reinforce this overarching mental illusion.
Fiction allows humans to indulge in drama and emotional investment in a safe way. Because people know the stories aren't "real" by worldly standards, they can engage with them without the paralyzing fear that characterizes real-world attachments.
While much fiction is used for escapism, inner wisdom (the Holy Spirit) can use stories to point to spiritual truths. Fictional characters exhibiting immense courage, grace and unconditional forgiveness can inspire us and help us reflect on our own spiritual journeys in the real world.
At best, good stories remind humans that their own lives are also just a tale they have told themselves. Through the practice of unconditional forgiveness, humankind can let go of the fictional drama of fear and see (
Come the pandemic concerns in early 2020, I had read at least a dozen sci fi books about different scenarios. I knew exactly what to do and how to respond to new information. I knew the possibilities and had already taken some precautions.
That’s why meditation is key as you age. It allows you to not only rely on memories/the past to interact with the present.aka comparison is the enemy of joy.🎉
This is fascinating. I wonder if other animals also interpret their environment through narratives, and when our brains evolved narratives.
And then I wonder about plants, which have no brains. How do they interpret their environment? They definitely do, as the plant by my window turns its branches and leaves to capture the best sunlight.
As I get older, and living on my own, I've noticed my penchant for immersing in literary / imaginary worlds in my quietude away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Away from crowds. It'd be just me and the page in front of me carrying me off to another place somewhere by virtue of the words I encounter, decipher and internalize. The need for fiction is perfectly dramatized in the film Matilda. Speaks deep human truths❣🙏
The split-brain patient is the clearest version of something that's running in everyone. Joe's left hemisphere didn't know why he pointed to the bell, so it made up a reason - and delivered it with complete confidence. No hesitation. No sense that it was guessing.
That's not a malfunction. That's the interpreter doing exactly what it always does. Every time you explain a decision, a reaction, a preference - that explanation arrives after the act, not before it. The left hemisphere's job is to keep the story coherent. And it's very good at that job.
The uncomfortable part isn't that we fabricate things. It's that this "fabrication" feels exactly like insight. You can't tell the difference from the inside between genuinely knowing why you did something and the interpreter filling in the blank.
This dovetails with how our memories work. Recent studies speak of how every time we recall a memory from our past, we are actually rewriting that memory, and as time goes on, the memory becomes less of what really happened and more of how we have rewritten it. This process can also help us cope with the past depending on what and how our memories are rewritten.
This is fascinating because it suggests that identity is not something we simply “have” but something our brain is constantly constructing through narrative.
Perhaps the stories we tell ourselves are less about recalling reality perfectly and more about creating enough meaning to move forward coherently in the world.
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The truth is that physicality is a mental illusion or a collective fiction, that the mind created to escape the truth of Heaven. Human stories simply act as tools the mind uses to reinforce this overarching mental illusion.
Fiction allows humans to indulge in drama and emotional investment in a safe way. Because people know the stories aren't "real" by worldly standards, they can engage with them without the paralyzing fear that characterizes real-world attachments.
While much fiction is used for escapism, inner wisdom (the Holy Spirit) can use stories to point to spiritual truths. Fictional characters exhibiting immense courage, grace and unconditional forgiveness can inspire us and help us reflect on our own spiritual journeys in the real world.
At best, good stories remind humans that their own lives are also just a tale they have told themselves. Through the practice of unconditional forgiveness, humankind can let go of the fictional drama of fear and see (
Вот и получается: чтобы быть счастливым, нужно "переучить" своего интерпретатора/рассказчика
And then I wonder about plants, which have no brains. How do they interpret their environment? They definitely do, as the plant by my window turns its branches and leaves to capture the best sunlight.
That's not a malfunction. That's the interpreter doing exactly what it always does. Every time you explain a decision, a reaction, a preference - that explanation arrives after the act, not before it. The left hemisphere's job is to keep the story coherent. And it's very good at that job.
The uncomfortable part isn't that we fabricate things. It's that this "fabrication" feels exactly like insight. You can't tell the difference from the inside between genuinely knowing why you did something and the interpreter filling in the blank.
- some guy
Perhaps the stories we tell ourselves are less about recalling reality perfectly and more about creating enough meaning to move forward coherently in the world.