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UNEATING FROM THE TREE

Writer: Loria Brexley "Brex"
Loria Brexley "Brex"
Jul 26, 2024
4 min read

Updated: Sep 17


Living Beyond Judgment Without Losing Discernment

By Brex

Imagine living without sorting every person, every event, every feeling into immediate categories:

good.

bad.

right.

wrong.

safe.

dangerous.

worthy.

unworthy.

Human beings do this quickly.

Sometimes for good reason.

Discernment protects us.

But judgment can become so automatic that we stop seeing what is actually in front of us.

That is the thought experiment behind this:

What if we could uneat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil?

Not become innocent in the sense of naive.

Not lose morality.

Not stop recognizing harm.

But loosen the compulsion to label before we understand.

THE FALL AS A FRACTURE IN SEEING

In the Genesis story, eating from the tree changes how Adam and Eve see themselves.

Suddenly there is shame.

Exposure.

Hiding.

Separation.

The story has been interpreted many ways across centuries.

One reading I keep returning to is this:

what if part of the fall was not merely acquiring knowledge—

but acquiring the habit of dividing experience into categories and then mistaking those categories for the whole truth?

Before:

presence.

After:

evaluation.

Before:

being.

After:

self-consciousness.

Maybe that is too simple.

But it is worth sitting with.

UNEATING DOES NOT MEAN BECOMING FOOLISH

There are things we should judge.

Cruelty matters.

Abuse matters.

Deception matters.

Consequences matter.

Discernment is necessary.

So “uneating” cannot mean:

Everything is acceptable.

It means something subtler:

Can I recognize harm without turning the person into nothing but harm?

Can I say:

This action is wrong

without automatically believing:

I now understand the entire soul of the person who did it?

That distinction leaves room for accountability and humility at the same time.

1. WE WOULD TRADE LABELS FOR CURIOSITY

Instead of immediately asking:

Who is the bad person here?

we might ask:

What happened?

What caused this?

What harm was done?

What responsibility belongs where?

What would repair require?

Understanding does not erase accountability.

It often makes accountability more precise.

2. HUMILITY WOULD HAVE MORE ROOM

Judgment can feel good because certainty feels good.

Once we know who is right and who is wrong, the world becomes simpler.

But reality is rarely as tidy as our first interpretation.

Humility says:

I can know something is harmful without knowing everything.

I can hold conviction without believing I am incapable of error.

That is not weakness.

It is intellectual and spiritual honesty.

3. WONDER COULD RETURN

Judgment compresses experience.

We see what we expect.

Wonder opens it again.

A child can stare at rain on a window without immediately needing to decide whether the rain is useful.

There is something restorative about allowing reality to exist before we classify it.

Light on a wall.

A bird on a wire.

A stranger's face.

Grief beside gratitude.

Beauty next to sorrow.

Not everything needs an immediate verdict.

Some things can simply be noticed.

4. TRUST DOES NOT REQUIRE CONTROL

There is another temptation inside judgment:

control.

If I can correctly label everything, maybe I can protect myself from uncertainty.

Good.

Bad.

Dangerous.

Safe.

Approved.

Rejected.

But spiritual trust may require admitting that I am not the final authority on every life I encounter.

For me, that is where faith enters.

Not:

Nothing matters.

But:

I do not have to occupy God's chair.

I can discern.

Act.

Set boundaries.

Protect what matters.

And still admit that my understanding is partial.

5. THE PRESENT BECOMES MORE AVAILABLE

Judgment often carries us somewhere else.

Back into regret.

Forward into prediction.

Into comparison.

Into imaginary arguments.

Curiosity brings us closer to what is actually happening now.

What do I know?

What am I assuming?

What am I feeling?

What needs action?

What can remain unresolved for the moment?

That kind of presence is not passivity.

It is clearer contact.

UNLEARNING THE FIRST VERDICT

Maybe we cannot uneat the fruit.

But perhaps we can become less obedient to the first judgment that appears.

The first thought may be:

Bad.

Pause.

What exactly is bad?

The first thought may be:

They are wrong.

Pause.

Wrong about what?

The first thought may be:

I am terrible.

Pause.

Did I do something wrong—

or have I turned one action into an identity?

That pause creates space.

And sometimes the space changes everything.

SEEING WITH GOD'S EYES

I use that phrase carefully.

I do not know what God sees.

But I imagine divine sight would be less hurried than mine.

Able to see:

the action,

the wound,

the history,

the consequence,

the possibility of change,

all at once.

Human beings cannot do that completely.

But perhaps we can move a little closer by resisting the urge to reduce one another to one moment.

ASK YOURSELF

Where have I divided the world too quickly?

Where am I confusing discernment with condemnation?

Where am I using judgment to avoid uncertainty?

Can I name harm without becoming consumed by hatred?

Can I remain curious without becoming naive?

Can I leave something partly unknown and still walk in peace?

STATIC TAKEAWAY

Uneating the fruit is not the loss of discernment. It is the release of compulsive condemnation.

See clearly.

Name harm honestly.

Protect what needs protecting.

But do not turn every difference into a battlefield.

Do not confuse certainty with wisdom.

Do not make yourself the final judge of another person's entire being.

Leave room for context.

For repentance.

For change.

For mystery.

For God.

Maybe innocence is not ignorance.

Maybe it is the ability to see without immediately reaching for the gavel.

And maybe that kind of seeing is something we can practice again.

— Brex

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