“Being Human” — Filtering
In the penultimate chapter for this series, I am under direct fire. Memories of my friends and family scream “you’re so negative,” or “you’re just focusing on the negative things; try looking at the bright side for once.” In some sense, they’re not wrong — filtering is exactly the idea that I am disregarding certain stimuli in favor of maintaining a “negative” narrative. I strongly disagree with how they’re relaying this idea, but I’m human and I’m begrudgingly willing and capable of admitting to maintaining my narrative through selective attention.
That’s really the definition I want to put forth for filtering. Filtering is the the process by which an individual maintains an internal narrative by selectively focusing their attention on stimuli that reinforce that narrative.
In my own history, I get called out for this because I am frequently regarded ranting about human behavior, the state of politics in the world, or the “necessary” filth involved in the philosophy of money. Stepping outside myself, it’s really easy to see why other people would think of me as “negative.” I prefer critical, personally, but that’s a nuance for a different story. The important component here is that my stance these issues is fairly unwavering, and I do spend a non-zero amount of effort collecting and recalling evidence that supports my stance. I try to be “realistic” or “reasonable,” and I’ve got some footholds for doing so, but whether or not I am seeing “the truth” I definitely find it easier to spot evidence that supports my claims.
I think filtering is one of the more interesting behaviors to discuss because it’s more obviously related to the idea that we tell ourselves stories.
Biologically, I’m immediately drawn to the idea of homeostasis — the body physiologically attempts to maintain stable function including keeping a steady internal body temperature, hydration, chemical balance, etc. Given that we’re very dynamic creatures, the body has a lot of control systems built in that assist with homeostasis. Perhaps most famously, we learn in biology that mammals are warm-blooded while reptiles (and other species) are cold-blooded; that’s to say that reptiles exactly don’t have the internal control to help them regulate their body temperature the way that mammals (including humans) do. That temperature regulation comes with an interesting “cost”. If you’ve ever gone from hot to cold environment very quickly, or done any physically exerting activity you’ve probably succumb to sweating. Sweating is exactly a component of how we maintain our body temperature (among other things).
Biology aside, I posit that this is directly relevant to our desire and ability to filter our emotional stimuli. Filtering serves as an almost exact emotional analogy for homeostasis. The behavior seeks to maintain a steady personal narrative, and so when something occurs that might act against that story our mind steps in to “even the keel.” It could be an outright rejection of the event as a falsehood, or it could be recalling evidence that reinforces the “desired” storyline but in any case our brain reacts to keep us steady.
Behaviorally, this perhaps looks like a commercial for anti-depressants. Someone shambling dully through life despite their kids playing idly around them, or the park in the background blooming in real time. As with the other behaviors I’ve analyzed, I want to open the narrative a bit.
This is not something distinct to “bad vibes” or “sad people.” Filtering works for any mindset intent on sustaining itself despite evidence to the counter.
Idiomatically, you’re likely much more familiar with the phrase, “seeing the world through rose-colored glasses.” While it bears a connotation of “positivity,” the idea is still that the individual is denying some portion of reality in favor of sustaining a pinkish outlook on life.
The analogy isn’t quite complete though. Biologically, we sweat to help maintain a steady body temperature; that’s because temperature affects the actual chemical kinetics and energetic requirements for our bodies base functions. When our internal temperature deviates from the norm, there’s a set of distinct physiological effects that follow. Analogously, why is it so important for our brains to maintain a steady emotional narrative?
I’d wager that it is energetically efficient to maintain a certain emotional stance than it is to allow volatile swings. Speaking from personal experience, emotional swings and roller coasters are also physically exhausting. That tells me that the physiological component related to our internal story-telling is quite costly when the story is errant and wild. Instead, if we keep a specific emotional frame, we’re less prone to a sort of emotional whiplash.
While it doesn’t feel directly relevant, I think the easiest example of this lies in how we (or maybe just I) cope with rejection. There’s the all-or-nothing “this always happens, no one will love me” approach but there is also a tendency to logically reinforce the rejection. For myself, I definitely bring up the long list of reasons I feel like someone could, would, or maybe even should reject me and I run down that list until I’ve affirmed and validated the rejection so that it’s common place for me. In my mind this is classic filtering behavior — though perhaps in the opposite direction. I normalize the new event using a filter of my past events; in doing so I add to my collection of evidence to maintain the idea that I should be rejected.
Alternatively, I am rejected but immediately conjure up thoughts like, “I’m better than him anyway,” “he’s too preppy for me,” “he’s an alcoholic.” These are all stories I tell myself to enforce an idea that the rejection was nonsense, and that I’m still sunshine and rainbows.
Both methods act in denial of the truth of the situation. I got rejected, in the moment and only in the moment. Mindfully, I need to respond to the rejection in the moment and choose whether or not I’m going to carry it with me moving forward.
That’s the kicker — it’s easy to recognize filtering if you can notice that you’re still thinking about the event or stimulus after it’s occurred. It’s a point in my story, a fleeting moment. It might be relevant to future events, but I’ve no idea as to when or how it might resurface. I am filtering my perspective by sustaining that event in my mind. Moreover, giving the tendency for sensory hyperbole in memory I’m not even just retelling the story, I’m likely spinning an extravagant fictional skew of it to specifically reinforce my feelings.
I’m willfully playing the part in a terrible reenactment of my trauma on a stage set solely for me.
I am a terrible actor to boot.
Filtering doesn’t serve me. It’s mindless behavior that denies and reduces the ambient complexity of the world to a fiction that’s meant to teach me an unreal lesson. I’m not ALWAYS going to get rejected, humans aren’t ALWAYS terrible, and the sun isn’t ALWAYS going to shine in my favor. It’s a skill to know how to “roll with the punches,” but thats the simple version of mindfulness here. When something happens,
- I notice the happening
- I notice my feelings
- I appreciate the separation of my feelings from the observable facts
- I appreciate the scope of my control
- I choose to feel in light of the event
- I choose to move on, to another part of the story.
That’s the silver-lining. When I become aware of my filtering, I can recognize that I’m willfully watching reruns when there’s new stuff streaming.
Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I delight to have reruns on in the background. The stories that I know well make for a wonderful, familiar backdrop to my world.
But, in the world as it happens if I’m choosing to watch reruns, I’m missing the new stuff. And there’s no guarantee it’ll be on again.
Sincerely Not Watching,
August
