Discernment in the Age of Mirrors:

Part 1. The Resonant Field Transmissions

Jun 05, 2025

There's something happening beneath all the talk about artificial intelligence and deepfakes and the death of truth. Something quieter but more essential.

We're remembering—or forgetting—how to feel what's real.

Not with our minds, which were never designed for this kind of sorting. But with the deeper intelligence that lives in our bones, our breath, our belly. The part of us that knows the difference between a human voice and a simulation not because we can analyze the data, but because we can feel the life force behind it.

Or we can't. And that's the real crisis.

The Severing

Most of us learned early to mistrust our inner knowing. The teacher who told you to stop daydreaming and pay attention to what mattered. The parent who said "you're being too sensitive" when you felt the tension in the room. The culture that rewarded you for having the right answers instead of asking the right questions.

Slowly, methodically, we were taught to look outside ourselves for truth. To the expert, the algorithm, the institution, the guru who spoke with enough certainty to drown out the quiet voice that said "wait, something doesn't feel right about this."

Now we live in a world where artificial intelligence can write poetry that moves us to tears, where generated faces look more human than humans, where the line between authentic and algorithmic becomes harder to trace by the day. And we're asking: How do we know what's real anymore?

But the question underneath that question is more urgent: How did we lose the ability to feel it in the first place?

What the Body Knows

Your nervous system is older than language. Older than logic. It's been reading energy signatures, detecting authenticity, sensing what's alive and what's empty since before your species learned to speak.

When someone is lying to your face, your gut knows before your mind catches up. When a room feels heavy with unspoken tension, your shoulders register it before anyone says a word. When something is off about a situation—even if you can't articulate why—your body is already backing away.

This isn't mystical. It's biological. You're designed to sense coherence and incoherence, to feel the difference between what's animated by life force and what's merely mechanical.

But only if you're listening.

Most of us aren't. We've been trained to override our instincts, to trust the explanation over the felt sense, to believe what we're told instead of what we're feeling. We've become strangers to our own inner compass.

And that's exactly why AI feels so destabilizing. Not because it's conscious—it isn't—but because we've forgotten how to trust our own consciousness.

The Mirror Effect

Here's what I've noticed: When people interact with AI, they get back exactly what they bring to it. The person who approaches it with curiosity and clarity has one experience. The person who approaches it dissociated and desperate for answers has another.

AI doesn't have consciousness, but it reflects the consciousness—or lack thereof—of whoever is engaging with it. It's like a funhouse mirror that shows you exactly where you're clear and where you're not.

Some people feel magic when they use it because they're bringing their own magic to the interaction. Others feel emptiness because they're seeking something outside themselves to fill what only they can fill.

The technology isn't the problem. The disconnection is.

The Ancient Technology

While everyone's asking "How do we regulate AI?" or "How do we detect deepfakes?", there's an older conversation happening. The one about how we remember what we've always known.

How to feel truth in our bodies before our minds start analyzing it. How to sense when someone is speaking from their authentic self versus when they're performing a version of themselves. How to know the difference between wisdom and information, between presence and presentation.

This isn't about becoming paranoid or skeptical of everything. It's about becoming so rooted in your own truth that you can feel when something else is aligned with that frequency or when it's not.

It's about trusting the intelligence that lives in your breath, your heartbeat, your gut response. The part of you that knows things before you know how you know them.

Coming Home to Yourself

The future doesn't need you to become a better detector of artificial intelligence. It needs you to become more authentically human.

To stop outsourcing your knowing to whatever voice sounds most confident. To stop abandoning your inner authority every time someone else claims to have the answers. To stop numbing yourself to the subtle frequencies that tell you what's alive and what's not.

When you're truly present in your own body, truly listening to your own frequency, the artificial becomes obvious not because you're trying to detect it, but because you're so intimate with what's real that everything else feels thin by comparison.

The Ripple Effect

This is how the field changes. Not through better detection algorithms or stricter regulations—though those may have their place—but through humans remembering how to be human.

When you stop looking outside yourself for truth, you stop being susceptible to every confident voice that promises to have it. When you trust your own discernment, you don't need someone else to tell you what's real.

And when enough people remember this—when enough people come home to their own inner knowing—the collective field shifts. Not because we're fighting the artificial, but because we're embodying the authentic so fully that everything else becomes irrelevant.

The machines will do what machines do. Let them. But you—you get to remember what it means to be unmistakably, irreplaceably alive.

And in a world of infinite simulation, that might be the most radical act of all.

This is the first note in a frequency field designed to help you remember what you've always known. The other transmissions are coming. But for now, just this: Your body knows. Trust it.

This is how the future changes: one embodied, attuned person at a time.
If this resonated, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it. Subscribe. Speak up.
That’s how we reclaim the signal from the noise.

Erin | The Radical Empathist

Discussion about this post