I'm not following everything that's being said here very well. It's been a bit abstract for me. I'm not sure where to jump in . . . so I'll just do my little song and dance about projection and hope that fits into the conversation.
I think the first thing that we should set on the table as far as projection goes is its ubiquity for our species. Projection is simply the way we think about everything that is Not-Me (arguably, it is how we think about ourselves, the Me, as well . . . but that's more philosophical than I want to mess with for now). I have been referring to this style of thinking/perceiving as "projective consciousness". Others have called it, for instance, "
theory of mind".
This is the ability (and tendency) to attribute (project) "mind" or agency to others. As an evolved trait, this is incredibly useful, because it allows humans to anticipate behaviors in other humans and often in animals, too. I would argue that many animals exhibit a theory of mind, but in our species it is kicked up to an almost ridiculous degree. Our theory of mind is equivalent to the peacock's tail. Which is to say that it is amazing, but not always practical. Humans tend to err on the side of excess where projective consciousness is concerned. On one hand, this introduces an increased possibility of paranoia (projective consciousness on steroids). On the other hand, it creates the core function of our religions or spiritual tendencies. Namely, animism. Humans assign mind not only to other humans but to animals and objects . . . but the mind or agency they project is a human one. Therefore, we get "spirit animals" (animals with human souls), gods that look and act like humans, natural totems like mountains and trees and rivers, and human-made totems like statues, icons, and art . . . all of which are imbued with anthropic mind and intentionality.
As far as this trait of projective consciousness goes, we can say a few additional things. Firstly, that, despite it's hyperactivity, it tends on average to be incredibly, uncannily accurate (at least for predicting human behavior). If it wasn't highly accurate, it wouldn't have been naturally selected (as it clearly has been). This isn't to say that the finer details of the perceptions of projective consciousness aren't often muddled or entirely fabricated (not based on any evidence). But as an anticipation of survival-important behaviors in others ("broad strokes"), projective consciousness (colloquially called "intuition") is a wonder. It's accuracy depends on the anticipated behaviors being logical and fairly consistent. But this is a relative logic. It is logical for a paranoid person to react to many things in a paranoid fashion, and just as logical for a very serene and laid back person to take potential conflicts in stride.
This is specifically what theory of mind/projective consciousness does. It constructs the personality (the psychic logic) of the other. This construction is generated autonomously (i.e., again, this is just the way the psyche/brain works). We can become partially conscious of these constructions and the process of constructing, but we have limited control over them. They are pure instinct, not "reason", not ideology. I think this is one of the important notions to bring into our interpretations of and feelings about the issue of unwanted projections (such as we Jungians are always accusing each other of) . . . but I'll get back to that below.
Another interesting thing regarding projective consciousness is how it (as an instinctual cognitive process) brings human instinct into the material world. This is most easily noticeable in tribalistic animism . . . but it still happens to us moderns constantly. That is, the idea of the totem is that it is a thing (usually inanimate or at least not "sentient") that has been invested with (projected) "mana" from humans (it usually takes a group or a tribe to invest enough mana in a thing). Mana is numinous, mana is the presence of divinity or supernatural agency. But more scientifically, this numen is the projection of the power of instinct over human egoism and behavior. This is why our totemic gods are always telling us (commanding us, usually) how to behave. The human sociality instinct is being projected into the totem.
It's interesting that our species needs (at least in its environment of evolutionary adaptedness) to do this kind of animistic projection in order to fully experience its instincts. We seem to naturally externalize our instinctual goadings. That is, we tend to devalue internality and psyche. We prefer to (unconsciously) project our instincts into things and into others (along with theory of mind) and then obey their commands or prescriptions. In this way, we convince ourselves that the instincts are "real", because they seem to be
in matter (and we accept that matter is real). This literalization is the most common and indicative trait of what I call "
spiritualism".
It's a paradox (rarely if ever recognized by the spiritualist) that, despite the spiritualist's claims to value spirit and spirituality, the manifestation, materialization, or literalization of spiritual phenomena is considered the highest goal and realization of spirituality. We can contrast this with psychologization, which is an acknowledgment that what is being projected is actually within the projector and is "made of" non-material psyche . . . a withdrawal of projections (more accurately, since projections can rarely be "withdrawn", per se, an admission that projections are projections, that they are psyche belonging to the projector . . . which tends to depotentiate the anxiety of projection somewhat). In alchemy, the First Opus is dedicated to the extraction of Spirit from Matter. This is, in my opinion, very much the same thing. Taking a page from Hillman (an adept psychologizer who's even a bit prone to reducing the material to the psychological and not just the spiritual), I have also been calling this "seeing-through" . . . as in seeing through the veil of Maya.
As modernism began to set in (probably with the first great proto-industrial city-states), the tribalistic devaluation of psyche and ego received increased pressure from environment. We had to learn to see more and more "mind" in ourselves. As this interiorization (not so much a withdrawal of projections as an amputation of "intuitive organs") progressed, the gods began to die or transform. Gods projected into matter could no longer endure the new human pursuit of industry. If your god lives in a tree, and industrially-minded people come and chop it down to build "technological marvels" with, your god has been amputated or killed. Since you (as the proverbial animist) did not psychologize your projection, you experienced an especially great loss of instinct (which you believed to be external). There are many historical and mythological examples of this phenomenon, most notably, the
Epic of Gilgamesh in which Gilgamesh (king of the proto-industrial metropolis, Uruk of the Great Walls) and Enkidu violate the sacred Cedar Forest, chop down some of its trees, and kill its guardian, Humbaba.
Today, we are often stranded (the Problem of the Modern). We naturally think like animists, but our modern society forces us to survive by and interact as psychologists. Our gods have been amputated all around us . . . but as Jung said, they now manifest as diseases, welling up from within us. Still, we are innately averse to valuating our internal or psychic gods. In other words, it is more comfortable and more comforting to believe in a god living in a totemic tree or a God living up in an abstract heaven than it is to experience and deal with the god-image within or to deal with the Self. [One of our clever modern inventions has been the totemic idea. This idea is treated just like a material totem, but it is also protected from the decay, destruction, or degradation of matter. The abstract (heaven, for instance) is the perfect hiding place and stronghold for a totem. One can protect it from violation through the fluidity of language, which can be constructed in an impenetrable, labyrinthine fashion (where all ways lead eventually to dead ends). The postmodern deconstructionists may believe that they came up with this form of fortification through abstraction, but alas, they were beaten to the punch thousands of years earlier by the Greek Neolplatonists (whose device was then adopted by Christianity and championed by its theologians).]
The last preliminary thing to say about projective consciousness is that it is almost definitely "designed" to help us predict the behaviors of others and conduct ourselves in accordance with that prediction. But it is not, I think, designed to genuinely and innately "understand" the personality or thought process of others as these others themselves experience it. We have evolved to be able to use theory of mind to promote our own survival (a large part of which involves complex social interaction). We have
not evolved to be psychotherapists. But we can "tune up" our theory of mind or projective consciousness, increasing its accuracy in the attempt to understand others' psychology.
The tuning up of our projective consciousness is accomplished, of course, by psychologization. That is, we learn how to recognize our own projections and psychologize or internalize them. We consciously integrate what we project into our sense of self (or, more accurately, into a functional relationship with our sense of self). This allows us to use projective consciousness more accurately or to better anticipate the agency of others. This psychologization or seeing-through is not a mere intellectual endeavor. We can never see-through (our projections) with paradigms . . . it is the paradigms themselves that must be seen-through. The real key to projective consciousness tune ups is empathy, the ability to project oneself (one's "mind") into the psychic condition or logic of the other in a way that involves feeling the logic of their psychic condition. Empathy is akin to theory of mind, but it is not opportunistic. In empathy, there is a desire to feel what it is like to be the other person. Empathy is every bit as instinctual as theory of mind (and
has even been observed in other social animals, especially certain apes).
With standard theory of mind, we are reconstructing the other's psychic logic in order to anticipate that other's behavior. But with empathy, there is a desire (or a compelling) to
experience the other's logic of being. This would included a reconstructed feeling of their suffering, their desires, their joys, etc. This kind of empathic identification allows us to construct a more accurate model of the other while also allowing us to recognize that the difference perceived in them is less severe than originally expected. In empathy, we see how we could think and act like the other thinks and acts.
Just as theory of mind is evolutionarily useful for navigating our environment successfully, for individual survival . . . empathy is evolutionarily useful for generating a feeling of kinship and tribal cohesion. It is the instinctual foundation of our relationality and morality. If we did not care about or empathize with others (specifically, our kin or family or tribe members), we would not have survived as a species (the issue of psychopaths or those who do not seem to experience empathy . . . and seem to have also been selected for, albeit as a minority . . . is another, very complex issue that I won't go into here).
In the modern, we no longer live in a state of pure tribalism. The modern society is a multi-tribe, and tribal affiliations are less totemized, more internalized. These affiliations are now memberships and beliefs and lifestyles we use to construct our own senses of self from. Think of people that have numerous bumper stickers on their cars: maybe school affiliations, political party affiliations, religious affiliations, dietary affiliations, ideological group affiliations, club affiliations, etc. Today, we are all like those people who drive cars with dozens of bumper stickers on them (whether or not we are such a driver). Our affiliations are often just as superficial and devalued as bumper stickers . . . devalued, that is, as compared to the tribal affiliations of a true tribalist. In other words, most of our affiliations have limits and are subordinated to a central sense of self. My bumper stickers might say that a president should be shot or that I never eat anything that comes from animals . . . but if I had to live or die by these beliefs (as original tribalists had to), I may make an exception. Beliefs and affiliations today are mostly taken in luxury.
On the other hand, we have many regressive tribalists among us (especially in America and in the Middle East). Fundamentalists . . . many of whom would willingly die for their most prized tribal affiliations. These people tend to look upon the "bumper sticker moderns" with disgust for their wobbly affiliations. The same situation existed in the Roman Empire around the turn of the Common Era. The level of diversity in many of the largest cities was immense, and whereas some people embraced this modernism, others refuted it. Christianity (taking a page from more militant or zealous, "Maccabean" Judaism) was unequivocally a "regressivist" (anti-modern) or fundamentalist movement . . . at least in its more politically-ambitious, Catholic form.
It comes as no surprise that we generally see less empathy (for Others) and less accurate projections from neo-tribalists and fundamentalists than we do from more modernized or modern-embracing individuals. Modernism involves some degree of forced psychologization and interiorization. Fundamentalists reject this, favoring spiritualization, the notion that the gods or God is literally "out there" or "in matter" (even if that "matter" is called heaven or is a totemic idea). Fundamentalists feel that they can only get back in touch with their instincts if those instincts are manifested to them materially and externally. They are generally frightened and intolerant of psyche.
But we all have our fundamentalisms, our spiritualisms. For every one of us, there are elements of psyche or Self that we do not relate well to our sense of self, that we do not want or want to deal with. Modern fundamentalists may seem socially regressive to us, but they are behaving very naturally (if not very adaptively). They want to modify the environment they live in in order to recreate an animistic, tribal environment. The problem is that this conflicts with the more conceptual empathy of the modern multi-tribe. In order for fundamentalists to have their kingdom on earth, their Eden, many Others will have to die (as we see very starkly in the Rapture fantasy of Evangelical Christians . . . not very different from the Rapture fantasy recorded in the New Testament as
Revelations or the Rapture fantasy of the writers of the Dead Sea War Scroll). These superfluous and disrupting Others ("infidels") have become, for the fundamentalists, dehumanized. They are not deemed worthy of empathy or morality, they are not considered "kin" or integral to tribal participation mystique.
That is perhaps the clearest (although not a very sophisticated) model of projection on a social scale. Shadow projection. The shadow is those aspects of ourselves that we deem not integral to our humanness. As we do not relate well to these aspects, i.e., we do not psychologize and internalize them much, they are the most prone to be loosed into the world. And that is where we recognize them . . . in the Not-Me. This kind of (social scale) shadow projection was probably functional in the tribal environment pre-modernism. The survivable social unit in the environment of evolutionary adaptedness is the tribe, probably the kin-based tribe. Inter-tribal relations have always been dicey. We have probably "modernized" and formed large civilizations more through warfare and conquering (subjugation of the conquered) than by peaceful alliance. We have evolved to instinctually protect (and to define) "our own kind".
Shadow projection in the tribal environment is often ritualistic and scapegoating. Excommunication is seen as a fate worse than death . . . because the excommunicated or scapegoated individual becomes alien to everyone (and tribes don't value individuality the way moderns do). His or her original tribe no longer recognizes his or her humanness, but to other tribes, s/he is still a member of the Other tribe (his/her original tribe). When we still function in tribes today, tightly knit groups with shared beliefs, cults, ideological clubs, etc., we are likely to find ritualistic scapegoating once in a while. There is no tribalism without the scapegoat ritual, because tribalism survives on its sense of tribal cohesion or purity. It is not modern, it does not tolerate Otherness. It purges it.
Just as tribes purge or excommunicate those that do not conform with the tribe's sense of self or cohesion, we (as individual personalities) tend to purge pieces of personality that "refuse" to abide by our sense of self. We excommunicate them with relational severing. We amputate them form the Eros or relationality or cohesion of our egos. So, what we see in the dreams of modern people are many characters and beings and things that are devalued or alienated. These aliens of our dreams are, I would wager, more common than similar figures in the dreams of tribalists who are in a state of relative equilibrium or adaptedness to their environment. We are, after all, today surrounded by alienness, diversity, rapid change in the non-animistic world. And the environment of the modern is putting immense pressure on us to adapt to it (i.e., this is how the natural drive to adapt to environment in us perceives it).
But in order for us to adapt, we have to psychologize and internalize many more parts of ourselves than we once did as pre-modern tribalists. The demand on the withdrawal of projections is stretching us beyond our adaptive limits. We can, in the face of this anxiety, either try to destroy the diversity and otherness that causes it or try to adapt to the new, diverse and Other-rich environment. The modern environment itself is not easily manipulable. The Christian movement in the beginning of the Common Era was able to radically change and repeal the modern environment through totalitarianism, mass-purging, propaganda, and conquering . . . but it remains unclear whether something like this could happen today (at least without the use of nuclear warfare to greatly reduce the population of the world first). Those of us who find it unconscionable to destroy thousands or millions of others are probably stuck struggling to find a way to adapt.
But the state of the modern world, the environment many of us now live in, is one in which the conditions require more psychology than we are capable of easily generating. The effective evaluation of information in this Information Age is greatly dependent upon the psychologization of the perceiver. If we cannot psychologize effectively, we become the pawns of the information manipulation (or propaganda) of others . . . and can sacrifice our survivability and adaptedness to the libido of others in a way that is ultimately self-damning. So the "problem of projection" is not merely a matter of "Those Other Guys" not dumping their shadows on us, "the innocent". It is also a matter of surviving and navigating through what amount to hostile manipulations. That is, the more of our psyches we do not integrate or relate to our sense of self, the more they are left "out there" where other self-interested parties might be able to utilize them as natural resources for their own empowerment.
A simple example of this can be gleaned from the rise of the Evangelical Christian movement in America. The heart of this movement is working-middle class, non-urban, American citizens. In other words, people who have relatively little in common with the interests of extremely wealthy, urban Americans who have political and social power. Some of these wealthy elite have found that by lending a little empowerment to Evangelicals, a little lip service and propagandistic recognition, the Evangelicals will give back tenfold in votes, money, and ideological propaganda dissemination. We associate these wealthy elites in question primarily with Republicanism or a specific kind of Republicanism.
If one was an Evangelical in this situation, one might be inclined to (eventually) ask if the support they are giving the wealthy elite is being used in ways compatible with Evangelical ideology. Any, even a fairly superficial, examination of the "money flow" can tell us that this is not even remotely the case. But the symbiotic relationship between the Evangelicals and the Republicans or Neocons has (at the expense of Christian ideological consistency) definitely empowered the Evangelicals (who are really more tribe- than belief-oriented) . . . perhaps even more than the Neocons intended. The Evangelicals want their Eden and the Neocons want wealth and power. But does either tribe care about the other, about the other's welfare? It is like
Wolfgang Giegerich's declaration that the modern soul is manifested in profit maximization.
But, taking Giegerich's signature incendiary hooting with a grain of salt, is this really what we all want or should want? In our relationships, do we desire to obtain the greatest benefit with the smallest sacrifice possible? Do we compromise on a livable solution due to capitalistic competition? I don't think so. It isn't profit maximization that we (as relaters) or the soul seeks. I think it is sustainability. If I am greed- or selfishness-driven and the person I am trying to make a "relational transaction" with is greed-driven, perhaps on the short term (as "business partners") we can get along (an do so sans empathy). But such short-term (and selfish) thinking is not only not sustainable, it is not instinctual in the enduring, adaptable way that naturally evolved things are. Evolution is a long-term plan, a complex system. The instincts it has formed are "long-term thinkers".
Relationality is not a war, not at least in the depths of the instinctual psyche (the soul). Ecosystems are not "stalemates" . . . and only seem to be so from the individualized, egocentric perspective. From the perspective of Nature or instinctual libido, ecosystems are equilibriums. Everything is always moving, always relating. The interrelationality is vast and complex. Sustainability is not merely Us vs. Them, opposing wills canceling one another out. We may suffer from greed, but what we need as human animals is equilibrium. We need to be sustainable. And in large part this is achieved through empathy. That is, we need to understand and appreciate that the Other also needs and desires sustainability. We don't have to go at Others like rabid dogs on one another's territory. We can learn to accept that the Other has a sacred space around his or her individuality that needs to be sustained in the same way our sacredness needs to be sustained. By sacredness, I don't mean "sacred cows", delusions, and delicate beliefs . . . although sometimes these things also need to be respected. I mean a right to be that is directed from the Self, from instinct into the world.
Our beliefs and sacred cows can rarely survive diversity, modernism, and intimacy with Others in tact. In many circumstances, we must either relate or believe. We can't do both at the same time. And the idea may eventually occur to us that relationality is more valuable than protecting our beliefs from difference. To relate in this state of tolerance and recognition is empathetic. The goal toward which this relationality gravitates is sustainability. Sustainability is the motivator behind all valuation of Otherness. To live in a state of sustainable relationality is the direction equilibrium or adaptation moves toward, the median point it swirls around.
The ego is generally a defensive structure, but the instinctual Self is relational. While the ego devotes its self-construction to the protection of its boundaries against the environment, the Self yearns for access, engagement, relationship. The ego attempts to limit relationship to what reinforces its own (the ego's) safety. Our sense of self is often like a helpless infant surrounded by bodyguards and armaments, booby traps and subterfuges, militias and propagandists. The Self is less paranoid, less fragile, less rigid and fortified. It seems to behave as if the purpose of life is not selfishness, individualism, fortification, profit maximization, kill or be killed, take or be taken from . . . but flow into Otherness, Eros, a state of connectedness and interrelationality. Influence. Resonance.
This elaborate dynamic is at play in the problem of projection. That is, there is a difference in relationality between the egoic way or condition of relating and the instinctual way of relating. The ego is more concerned with boundaries, the Self with connection. Where the instinctual Self and its Eros seek to find themselves in projections into the Other (and to find the empathy for the Other in their own reflections), the ego seeks to discriminate relationality and empathy with Others. The ego fears violation of its walls or even "possession" by Eros or Otherness.
Jung's attitude toward the Eros of the unconscious is very telling. He felt "possession" by archetypes was a real danger and that the ego should be built up strong enough to prevent this from happening. But I feel that this so-called possession is a paranoid delusion fabricated by the ego that fears the flow of connectedness rushing through its fortress walls. Yes, if those walls are built to stand against this flow, they may very well be smashed. But why build the ego in the shape of such walls? Why not conduits? The flow of Eros can be conducted through the personality. The ego can become a sophisticated irrigation system. In conduits, there are still boundaries, definitions, differentiations . . . in fact there are much more elaborate differentiations than in the fortification or damming model of egoism. But the ego doesn't stand against the flow of relationality.
This more-permeable, conductive, conduit style of ego construction is accomplished through psychologization. Whereas the animistic tribalist may have very few gateways in and out, the modern individual, in order to cope with the diversity of modern Eros, must have many. Modernity pressures us constantly to open more conduits of relationality . . . which would allow us to sustain and be sustained by a wider variety of relationships. Diversified relationality allows empathy to expand and the drive for social sustainability to reach actual society. We can recognize in today's political milieu a battle raging between long-term sustainability and short-term self-interest. In America, we live under a government that hopes giving every individual $600 will help convince many people to ignore sustainability and social welfare. In other words, society is not a complex system, an ecosystem. It is a battle of isolated individuals to endure, to protect their turf, to own their own properties and their own hand guns with which that property can and should be defended.
There is in this (mostly Republican, but the Democrats are closing in) ideology no sense of interrelationality or complexity at all. That which doesn't promote one's favored sense of self can be amputated or atrophied at no loss to either the individual or the society. Everything Other is either a commodifiable resource or a threat to a resource entitling the owner or desirer of that resource to defend it at all costs. But this is the madness of the modern, this egoic interpretation of living as defensible isolationism.
As moderns these forces of defensible isolationism and interrelationality are at war within us. At the core of this is the innate conflict between theory of mind/projective consciousness as tool of individual survival or self-promotion vs. projective consciousness as empathy or relationality (individualism vs. communalism). Our ability to relate is a factor of being able to attribute validity and humanness to the theory of mind projected onto others. Often this means that the projection must be relatively accurate as well as relatable to the projector's own sense of self. That is, we must not only intuit or perceive (via projective consciousness) accurately, we must be able to find a way to functionally connect the perception to our selves.
It isn't easy to construct a highly accurate and detailed portrait of an Other . . . especially when the Other may be determined to defend against one's projections and attempts at relating. But the drive to relate pushes us into this. The more relationally equipped our ego's are (conduits not walls), the more flow of Eros in and out. Ability to relate is inclusive of the hunger to relate. The push for relationship pushes us to construct more and more accurate projections onto Others. The more accurate the construction, the better the chance at meaningful, sustainable relationship.
The Eros-driven individual is more likely to keep reconstructing and revising his or her projections onto Others . . . and more willing to relinquish strict determination of what the relationship is "allowed" to be. This relational drive to reconstruct projections is not only empathy, it's morality. The desire to treat others fairly and see them clearly is a moral desire. This morality often requires us to find and restore previously devalued parts of ourselves in the attempt to relate them to our construction of the Other. Relationship is not only self-sacrifice (the setting aside of ideologies, restrictions, and sacred cows), it is self-discovery. Even self-creation.
And even though shadow projections from others can feel violating to our sense of self, they also welcome us to self-create. They may place too rigid boundaries on our relationality with that other, but they also often point to the limitations of our own sense of self. We can even relate to shadow projectors through the narrow conduit of their projections. That is something laden with innumerable problems and is generally ill-advised. That is, we would do well not to identify overmuch with these projections or invest too much hope that they will enable any functional relationality. But we can observe from such situations that the other's projection onto or construction of us is the only conduit of relationship we have with them. If the other designates their relational conduit as "shadow" or as "animi", this may at times be suffocating, but it is nonetheless a relational availability.
In recognizing this, we can recognize how our own projections and constructions serve to limit and define our relationships with others. When we feel so reduced and misjudged by shadow projections, we should take from this experience an empathy for others who might also feel reduced and misjudged or somehow constricted by our projections onto or constructions of them. Of course, many personalities and relationships are very complex, and in reality we typically each limit the relationship with the other through our respective projections, but in different ways. Often, even if we are able, acquiescing to the other's projection can become a mutilation of self. We can't always find a way to make our respective conduits connect, but the more relational conduits we can create, the better the chance that we might be able to connect with others. Unless, of course, the other (with limited relationality) is threatened by one's "polymorphic relationality".
Such polymorphic relationality is perhaps classifiable as "Dionysian" (but not exactly in the more Nietzschean sense). It is not so much the extremes of the ecstatic that can make polymorphic relationality seem threatening as it is the plasticity and scope of that relationality, its ability to incorporate what we Jungians would call shadow. We might say that the sheer ability to relate is not the same thing as the fitness to relate, because relational fitness is not the product of the individual degree of polymorphic relationality but of the compatibility of relationality among multiple individuals. This is a problem primarily for individuants . . . which I won't go into here.
Sometimes the most fulfilling, sustaining, and sustainable relationships are those that ask both/all parties to "grow more Otherness". These relationships can be threatening to people unwilling or unable to relate, because the relationality is clearly calling on them to valuate eschewed or unactualized potentials. But if these fears are worked through or set aside, these growth-generating relationships can become substantially valuated. Typically, such relationships involve transference . . . which is a form of intensified projection in which the relationship becomes a vessel of transformation.
People who might be called "relaters" (not always extraverts, though) are typically more open to transference relationships. That is, relaters are willing to transform in order to relate. They might even love the transformative aspect of such relationships and seek relationship in part for its transformative effects. It might even be fair to draw some degree of correlation between one's willingness to transform for or be changed by relationship (or by Others) with one's ability and willingness to relate. Perhaps all intimate relationships transform us. Which means that our fear of transformation might be the key obstacle to our inability to relate to Others well. We could say that self-possession or the attitude many people have of a fortified, unyielding, impregnable sense of self that is precious and an utterly "private property" is precisely the kind of modern, defensible isolationism that is destructive to or forbidding of relationship.
In other words, our modern sense of ego is a construction, ironically and regrettably, seemingly designed to defend us against the very Erotic diversity the modern environment poses us with. It's no wonder that we get neurotic
. We are dragons sleeping on our own unusable golden hoards.
Well, just as Chris has imposed a temporal limit on his dream work replies, perhaps I should impose a digression limit on my posts
.
In other words, I'll stop here.
