Also, "belief is never knowing"...I feel that this will, of necessity, work against a proper validation of "intuition" (within proper limits) as a conscious function which produces truth. In large measure, intuition, from the perspective of sensation, is "just making stuff up". Even an intuition which is "factually" wrong has a truth value in that it can "work". Belief probably includes a lot of intuitive knowledge that has a lot of "truth" to it even if it is not entirely true. If a belief has "value" then it has truth.
Even as what Jung would term an "Intuitive Type", myself, I am less willing to embrace the innate value of intuition (or to proclaim that intuition can produce truth) than you are, I think. And, although it might be hard to believe, it is actually very difficult for me to say this . . . for not only am I deeply, even lopsidedly intuitive, but I have found my intuitions (when "validated" by material facts) to be almost eerily unerring. Of course, the many times I was unable to validate the intuition through other means could have represented potential errors I never became aware of . . . .
I have (for reasons partially pathological, no doubt) challenged my own intuitions devotedly throughout my life. Aside from the scars of self-punishment, something else, something valuable has come of this. Namely, my intuitions have become much more honed and clarified than they would have been were I the innately trusting sort. I don't mean "as compared to the intuitions of others"; I mean "as compared to what my intuitions would have been if I never threw doubt or scrutiny at them."
I have become increasingly uncomfortable embracing Jung's typology theory on a fundamental level . . . but the damn thing is so useful (and any fundamental analysis of it is better left to another topic). One thing I
do like about it (or one way about it I can manipulate to fit my own experience) is its compliment of opposites. Whatever intuition and sensation are as neurological elements of cognition, they are, most definitely, oppositional to one another in a very distinct way.
Thinking and feeling appear to share this oppositional dynamic (although, in my experience, the conflict has not been significant compared to the primary/inferior opposition . . . which itself could lend credence to Jung's theory of auxiliary functions operating under a somewhat different dynamic).
But (not so much in Jung himself, but) in some Jungian thought, individual types are afforded a "prejudice of purity" that does not correspond with my own experience. That is, intuition, say, is supposed to be the "go-to" function for a specific kind of thinking . . . and its opposite, sensation, only clouds or curtails its capacity. For me, truth does not lie in a pure function . . . but in the coniunctio of that function with its opposite.
Take thinking/feeling for instance. Pure thinking is very abstract and categorical . . . but too much abstraction from a thing (that has at least some materiality) does not lead to "truth". Too much abstraction merely renders an idea impractical (a regrettable problem of much intellectual theorizing). In order to bring an abstract theory into a state of usefulness and applicability, another discernment or differentiation is required. Specifically, the thinker needs an intelligence that can determine the
value of one theoretical paradigm compared to another. Why is an idea "wrong" or "right"?
The trend in postmodernist academia today is to turn this debate into a nebulous mush . . . which in effect asserts a kind of thinking function purity. That is, it
unconsciously values thinking on a scale of thinking purity. This marks the particular complex of the pathological (i.e., imbalanced in perspective to the state of enforced unconsciousness of the other) thinking type. And it should come as no surprise that we see this type in the most theoretical fields: culture studies (itself the theoretical study of something that is abstract), philosophy, quantum physics, cosmology, etc. This type is drawn to such fields where the "certain" pales in comparison to the unknown, because only in uncertainty can abstract thinking run free, can it be "pure". And the dream or desire of a pathologically accentuated type is to purify everything with the primary type of thinking. It's an act of colonization . . . and the fields with the least certainty offer the best colonial opportunities for thinking types.
By contrast, we rarely see this type of thinker in, say, biology . . . or sciences in which practical results determine the usefulness of ideas.
In this pathology of purity (for the thinking function), the process of valuation is enslaved to the primary function's libido . . . but enslaved in a purely unconscious way. The value of abstract thinking to the thinking type is self-evident. There is no need to get bogged down in issues of valuation. But of course, the whole psyche does not abide by the prejudices of the ego alone. Valuation then is given over to the shadow . . . and used irresponsibly (and tends to take on an infantile character).
Without going into as much detail, something very similar happens for the feeling type that has become pathologically accentuated. The ability to use abstract thought to "detach" from an idea or issue enough to develop a broader perspective on it or to simplify it enough to consciously compare and contrast it with other ideas is stunted. Abstraction is deemed pointless . . . because the feeling type person
knows what's what, what's right and what's wrong.
This attitude falters when abstract ideation is given over to the unconscious shadow. In these circumstances, the feeler is not cognizant that the thing s/he is certain is right (at the expense of other things) is, in fact, an abstract idea and not a thing-in-itself. S/he does not question the abstractness (and therefore, the arbitrariness) of pet ideas.
But, in order to think clearly (on this axis of
differentiation that thinking and feeling seem to operate on), an equal union of the thinking and feeling intelligences produces the best result. The scale is balanced . . . and this is an apt metaphor, because the "midpoint" between thinking and feeling is what might be considered "Justice". Justice is ideal differentiation.
When it comes to intuition and sensation, I see the same dynamic in operation.
Intuition is a cognitive function that illuminates how things might be related to other things. It senses patterns and potentials. This makes it the primary intelligence behind mysticism, I think, because (as I see it) mysticism is rooted in the relational dynamic between the ego and the Self. Mysticism, then, tells us the nature of the relationship between the ego and the Self.
Intuition, in my experience, is profoundly logical . . . but the logic of intuition is not easily discerned unless we devoutly employ the sensation function. Jung called synchronicity "acausal" . . . and if I remember correctly, he took this notion of acausality from the nascent quantum physics of his day. I disagree completely (with both Jung and with the Copenhagen school of quantum physics that intrigued him, to the small degree that I can understand it).
Insomuch as intuition is the "bread and butter" behind synchronicity, synchronicity is entirely
causal. The "trick" of intuition (and here I do see a parallel with quantum physics) is that it is atemporal. That is, it does not operate by our standard sense of linear time. Like a wave, intuition can be in multiple places simultaneously. Bang . . . the whole relational pattern emerges as a whole.
Jung makes the same mistake that (I have come to believe) the Copenhagen quantum physicists made/make: namely, he interjects the perceptual measurement of the ego/observer, which has the effect of making a wave appear to be a particle when observed/measured. In other words, noting points in the grid of the intuitive pattern interjects the sense of linear time and position we require to think about things.
As for causality, I believe the relationship between the arbitrary points in this intuitive pattern is absolutely logical . . . in the sense that "when there is A, A will always lead to B". But what pathological intuitives all too frequently fail to grasp is that there need not be an A. That is, all of the causal, logical connections are potentials . . . logical potentials of causal relationship. Each potential has a kind of "situational weight" in a given circumstance . . . so, in circumstance X, let's say, there is a higher probability that A will lead to B than there is that A will lead to C. All the situational weights for each potential are automatically factored into the intuitive burst.
By automatically, I mean "unconsciously" . . . in a pathological intuitive type. This can be so unconscious as to create the impression of a leap, an almost linear leap from point A to point Z with no recognition of all the relational "choices" made in between".
The problem with this is that it is very difficult for the intuitive to differentiate one potential from another, because the intuitive does not understand the "situational weighting" that necessitates the various complex turns and branchings-off that causally led from A to Z. And why? Why was the situational weighting meted out as it was? The intuitive doesn't know. S/he doesn't actually understand the fundamentals of the situation.
And so, when the intuitive goes to act on or apply the results of the intuitive flash, suddenly the situation has changed. The act itself involves other factors in the intuitive equation and can "jostle" the pattern intuited. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that intuitives tend to be horrible at actualizing and applying. It is easier to intuit without application, because one can "see" without the technicalities of influencing the seen.
But the intuitive who can learn to bring intuition together with the practicality of sensation . . . which senses the "thingness of things" and can tell us how they can be used . . . can begin to flesh out the "situational weighting" and the causal connections in the intuitive pattern. This can potentially be done to the degree that the effects of action can be calculated into the intuitive equation . . . albeit with the loss of a kind of "false certainty" that A
always necessitates B.
The pathological intuitive has a "sweep under the rug" reflex for intuited potentials that don't pan out. The intuitive intelligence is throwing out potential patterns like crazy (and somewhat indiscriminately) . . . most of which are ignored or allowed to evaporate. But inevitably, some of the intuitive patterns manifest in the real world . . . and the intuitive personality latches on to these as mystical truths, perhaps divinely sent.
This tends to lead to a "totemization of the actual" . . . which is the hallmark of the pathological intuitive. This is characterized by the magical valuation (all the more accentuated in auxiliary thinking types who valuate more or less unconsciously) of any intuition that "comes true". No matter that these intuitions that come true are far outweighed by those that never materialize in any way. This is lost on the intuitive. The intuitive here places so much importance on the manifestation of an intuition, that s/he doesn't retain any consciousness of randomness and probability . . . of the annoying little fact that it could have been otherwise (and frequently is).
Intuitives (who also lean heavily toward auxiliary thinking) have a special love of mystical patterns (and we see this a lot in people like ourselves, in Jungians and those interested in mysticism) . . . but they have a distinct difficulty with bringing the recognition of such patterns into a practical usefulness. For such intuitives, that mystical patterns "are" is absolute proof of their mystical authenticity . . . not what such patterns can do, what they can be applied to. We might call it "pattern worship". A favorite Jungian pastime.
But is the worship of such patterns indicative of the sole function of those patterns (i.e., as objects of worship)? It would hardly seem so. It is possible to see these mystical patterns as abstractions of a relational dynamic. A mandala, for instance, is the abstraction of a relational dynamic (usually between the ego and the Self) . . . and it may be able to give us a snap shot of what is (or was) at a point in time . . . but it is much less helpful in informing us how to
do. The Self is a living, acting thing. It's dynamic and present, not still and abstracted.
My brief but rather rich experience in Jungian communities has lead me to believe that the thorn in the paw of many Jungians, perhaps even the "Jungian disease" is this tendency to relate to the Self as though it were still and abstracted rather than immediate, communicative, adaptive, dynamic . . . and life-seeking/libidinous. I think this is a veil of maya many Jungians don't want to transgress. It's a tabooed realm, this realm of the living, dynamic, instinctual Self . . . the Self that acts "biologically", the Self as prima materia.
So, although this digression is excessive, I hope that it indicates what I think about the multiple "ways of knowing". Basically, that there is a crux, a coniunctio with all of these intelligences where a kind of equilibrium exists. This all distills down to one point, one "way of knowing" that balances all ways of knowing. I am happy calling this theoretical midpoint "Gnosis".
But I (and here we definitely seem to agree) do want to emphasize that this point, this Gnosis (in my opinion and experience)
is theoretical. An actual point is stillness, death. In death, multiple ways of knowing are not in a state of equal interplay (or equilibrium).
So, we may be left with a rather mystical question: is there any perfect knowing other than death? In life there is flux, and in flux there is no perfection. Perhaps Gnosis is this dynamic. Jung's idea of "wholeness" is pretty much the same thing. I would only add that perfection (which is the dream of thinking function-guided spiritualism) is an abstract idea. Wholeness, equilibrium, flux, balance, reciprocation . . . this is actual and practical. We see this constantly in nature, in every aspect of nature . . . whereas perfection is only glimpsed in our imaginations.
Well, this came out more muddled than I would have liked . . . a sign, I feel of an excess of abstraction on my part. It is hard for an intuitive to think through these steps in a way intuition has no patience for
. I am heading in the general direction of where I wanted to go, at least.
Apologies for meandering.
Yours,
Matt
