I can »feel the world. The world at the soles of my feet. With my skin. Scents. My fingertips. And this is a kind of knowledge that is proto- to thought.

Thought is a sense, too. An anciently evolved library of faculties. An unknown infinity. Most of us will barely taste its treasures while alive. Because they come to us ‘already co-opted’ with something that malware is a computational analogy of.

And for many if not nearly all of us, this unfortunate circumstance will dominate much of our relationship with the anciently evolved potentials that are our human inheritance.

We »think, perhaps, that thinking allows us to predict. To ‘solve’ problems. But like our relationship with »techne, this is, most often, deceiving. For thought will »create problems. In ways that are habitual to our lives, time, and cultures. And, too often, what it is ‘predicting’ gains attentional gravity.

To be gravid is to be filled with »eggs. To be pregnant.

So as we succumb to the gravity of habit, ‘function’, derivations of meaning or identity over the manifold of relationships… our species is prone to collapse into thought and its predictions.

I remember. That I feel. That thought is a toy, not a God. That its capacities are both lethal and limitless. That my habits and preoccupations… weigh down the birds it might otherwise become flight within.

I remember. That where thought is not truthful, careful, creative, intelligent, and aware… it becomes crippling. And as this proceeds, it ever-more furiously advertises its heroism.

And so I feel. And though I know that I feel, I long ago recognized that knowledge was not necessarily the profound asset we were scripted to believe it to be. Too often, when it appears to ‘solve’ some problem, it creates seven others, more lethal, more likely to draw resources best invested elsewhere, and capable of a form of subtlety that hides this from discovery.

So, sometimes, I unknow. I stop knowing, for a moment. I let thought fade back toward its origins. And there, far away, at the horizon of my consciousness… I see.

An ancient star. Familiar and mysterious. Impossible, yet true. A kind of light that comes before the physical light we sense and feel. And my knowledge begins to … transform … to unwind … to stop producing ‘possessions’. And I feel a strange return of liberty. Of faculties and abilities… that are not merely human. I feel the hint… of wings.