To review, the psychoanalyst Ignacio Matte Blanco begins with Freud's model of the unconscious, which is characterized by 1) eternity (or timelessness), 2) spacelessness, 3) symbolism, 4) non-contradiction, and 5) non-distinction between imagination and reality.
However, Matte Blanco, who was also a mathematician, realized that these characteristics were necessary consequences of the kind of logic employed by the unconscious mind, which is to say, symmetrical logic. You might say that this is the logic of the timeless world of eternity, whereas Aristotelian ("asymmetrical") logic only applies to the more limited temporal world.
For example, in the asymmetrical world, it is not possible for two objects to occupy the same space. But in the unconscious mind? No problemo. There, your husband can be your mother, a government can be a bountiful breast, or President Bush can be Hitler.
Likewise, as we discussed a couple days ago, in the unconscious mind, "time travel" is as easy as failing off a blog. One of the most vivid clinical cases I've seen of this involved a man who had been shot in the abdomen in an attempted robbery about a decade before. He thought he had forgotten all about it, until one day at work a couple of coworkers decided to play a practical joke on him. One of them aimed a metal tube at him, as if he were holding a rifle. The other coworker slapped together a couple of two-by-fours, creating a loud cracking noise that happened to sound just like gunfire.
The patient reacted just as if he had been shot. He looked down and literally saw blood flowing from his abdomen. He became agitated, and an ambulance had to be called. He was actually taken to the ER, and only after being given a strong anxiolytic did "the past" recede from the present. But for 30 to 45 minutes, the past and present were completely interpenetrating, pulling him down into an infinite terror.
This is simply a vivid example of what happens to us all on a moment by moment basis. The past and present are constantly conflated on a deep unconscious level, which accounts for so much of the richness of being. But it also accounts for virtually all psychopathology, which you might say consists not of unpleasant memories that we recall, but unpleasant memories which recall us.
This happened to me just yesterday afternoon. I'm not even sure what provoked it. It could have been a song I was listening to from my high school daze, or the first feelings of fall, or the smell of rain, or the lower angle of the sun, but something triggered an unpleasant flood of nameless emotion. I couldn't put my finger on what it was or what was causing it, but it lasted for a couple of hours. It definitely had an unconscious quality though, because it came from outside time and had a kind of depth that can only come from the symmetrical unconscious, which always has qualities of the infinite. When it's good, you call it joy, or bliss, or ananda, but when it's bad, you call it the nameless dread.
I'm sure you've all felt the bottomless and unending nameless dread. When I was younger I used to feel it from time to time in the middle of the night. I'd wake up and feel as if all my familiar psychological landmarks had vanished, so to speak. Instead, I was wrapped in the eternal silence of the infinite spaces, as Pascal called it -- "the infinite immensity of spaces of which I know nothing and which know nothing of me."
Naturally, it felt like an "external" space, but it was in internal space merely projected outward. In reality, there is no outer space, only inner space projected. A lot of people who are obsessed with extra-terrestrial life are merely inside-out psychoanalysts, treating fantasized objects as if they come from the outside rather than the inside. For example, when I was in that unpleasant state, I might imagine a burglar trying to break in my window. Mrs. G used to imagine a nuclear holocaust.
In hindsight, it is also obvious to me now how my very first heartbreak at 17 reasonated in an infinite way with the loss of Eden that Robin was discussing the other day. I wasn't just alone, but infintely so. Furthermore, I always would be. Thank God for Joseph Coors, who was there when I needed him.
Usually, the deeper the emotion, the more it partakes of symmetrical logic. For example, Matte Blanco noticed that a large part of the pain of psychosis is that emotions are raised to a kind of infinite fever pitch. Imagine my little night-terror occurring 24/7, with no way to stop it. Each moment is a calamitous novelty, completely beyond your control. Even if you've had a single panic attack, you can get a sense of this "bad infinite," which is boundless and unending. This is why some psychiatric patients slash themselves or put cigarette burns into their skin -- anything to end the nameless dread and bring them back into contact with time. Finite physical pain is far preferable to infinite emotional pain.
The logic of the symmetrical unconscious definitely explains the angry left. To anyone who is not participating in their group fantasy, one can see how ridiculously overblown their fears are. But it all makes sense in the deep unconscious. Because of its symmetrical nature, that which you deeply hate is deeply frightening. The more you hate or fear it, the more powerful it becomes, until it is equated with the all-powerful and all-evil.
Even a casual glance at dailykos or huffpo demonstrates that this is the emotionally charged mental space in which they they live. If they didn't have the cover of a large community of people involved in the group fantasy, everyone would recognize them for what they are: crazy. But because of the dictates of multiculturalism, no one is crazy so long as their particular craziness is shared by others. For the left, politics is about the management of emotion, nothing more (except for their sociopaths who run things, for whom it is about power. They never experience anxiety, an even worse form of pathology.)
But this just begs the larger issue that this is one of the very purposes of culture: to create a cohesive group fantasy in which unconscious anxieties and impulses can be contained. True, some people do this with religion, but there, the greater purpose is to plumb the depths of the unconscious in a healthy way. The left's fantasies are strikingly unhealthy, in large part because they don't realize that they are fantasies. They are like children acting out, only they think they are rational.
The conscious mind, because of its asymmetry, is able to discern differences, whereas the unconscious mind ignores distinctions and sees sameness. Obviously this has an important function that is vital to psychological health and happiness. But both processes can go haywire. For example, the loony leftist notices that Adolf Hitler and President Bush both engage in aggression, therefore, on an unconscious level, they are identical. Only the "sameness" is seen, not the vast differences. At the same time, they may enforce conscious distinctions in an illogical way, for example, between the nature of our fascist enemies in WWII and our fascist enemies today. There they see distinction where they should see the similarities.
You might say that the unconscious only sees "classes," not individuals. As Bomford writes, "An aggressive dog is felt to encompass the class of all dangerous aggressors -- and is thus perceived as presenting an infinite threat. It is easy to see that an irrational phobia is at once accounted for by this principle: something trivially alarming or just something connected with an alarming situation, is treated as though the whole class of alarming things is present within it."
One of the keys to dealing with fear is to give it a kind of boundary. The next time you're feeling anxious about something, notice this tendency of it to shade off into the infinite, which is the real fear. It doesn't surprise me at all that the left is historically so phobic, paranoid, alarmist, and histrionic, since they have no way to tame the bad infinite, being that they have rejected genuine spirituality, which is nothing less than a systematic way to transform the nameless dread of the bad infinity into the boundlessly loving and infinite One. The left will always be with us, because the unconscious will always be with us.
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28 comments:
I've read quite a bit recently from various sources about the growth and development of Socialist, progressive, and left-wing influences during the last century. They've been at this business a long time, and they've been described and discredited many times over. It's not like there has been no debate.
You wrote, "If they didn't have the cover of a large community of people involved in the group fantasy, everyone would recognize them for what they are: crazy."
Certainly their "craziness" has been observed and warned about, for decades. But there is something in not-crazy folk that continues to tolerate the Leftist's "act" and treat it not just as another point of view, but as non-threatening.
Do my eyes deceive me? I see Socialism as very threatening! Creeping Socialism is sort of my version of "nameless dread."
"The more you hate or fear it, the more powerful it becomes, until it is equated with the all-powerful and all-evil."
That explains a lot.
"When it's good, you call it joy, or bliss, or ananda, but when it's bad, you call it the nameless dread."
I find it interesting, as well, how seemingly "bad" experiences that develop character...that are allowed to develop good character, I should say, can be recalled with joy.
Not so much because of the pain or discomfort involved, but because of the results.
Bob-
Is this what you mean by a healthy use of the unconcious?
Apparently it requires team work to establish this, utilizing knowledge fed by revelation, which is, ironically, triggered by the very O we're talkin' about.
Am I on the right track with this line of reasoning?
Another superb post!
This has been very helpful!
Bob-
Speaking of assymetrical-
When medications and/or vitamins work well for people with psychological "problems", does this
indicate merely a physiological deficiency, versus when meds don't work or make the problems worse, possibly indicating a spiritual deficiency?
I'm well aware that both may be indicated, since sometimes meds help, but don't always "cure" the underlying cause.
"Thank God for Joseph Coors, who was there when I needed him."
Ol' Joe, and Bud, have got me through a few scrapes with loneliness.
Ben--
--"Is this what you mean by a healthy use of the unconcious? Apparently it requires team work to establish this, utilizing knowledge fed by revelation, which is, ironically, triggered by the very O we're talkin' about."
I'm not completely sure, but that sounds about right. We'll have to wait for subsequent posts in this series for the answer. I would say the answer should be fully half-baked by about October.
--When medications and/or vitamins work well for people with psychological "problems", does this
indicate merely a physiological deficiency,
Not necessarily, since early experience can hardwire in certain biochemical and physiological dysregulations, and vice versa -- an inborn dysregulation can cause disturbed relationships that are then internalized. Very complicated.
And sometimes medicaton can be used in order to continue a dysfunctional lifestyle. Let's say someone is depressed because they're narcissistically self-absorbed. Medication alleviates some symptoms, which then allows them to continue the narcissistic lifestyle.
Body, brain, mind and spirit can have all kinds of permutations, with one part causing more problems than another. You just have to proceed case by case.
--versus when meds don't work or make the problems worse, possibly indicating a spiritual deficiency?
Very hard to provide a general answer. Just because medication doesn't work, it doesn't mean one doesn't have a medical problem. Psychiatry is still pretty primitive. Often it develops in reverse - some medication causes the side effect of lifting depression, and they say "hey, let's call this an anti-depressant!"
Thanks Bob!
Some of the mystery is a bit clearer to me now.
I anticipate more Bobservations in the coming weeks.
Gagster,
Re physiological problems: as a medicated clinical depressive, I often liken having "serotonin issues" or similar complaints, to fixing a computer with a few burnt connections on the motherboard. First one deals with the "hardware" via appropriate medication. Then, one rewrites the "software" in therapy. Ignore this vital second step, and your repaired machine will still be running bad programs that developed as coping mechanisms for the initial mechanical trouble.
Ben said "Apparently it requires team work to establish this, utilizing knowledge fed by revelation, which is, ironically, triggered by the very O we're talkin' about.
Am I on the right track with this line of reasoning?"
Psst... Ben... shhh...keep it down, would ya? you're swiping the plot of my next posts... (assuming I recover from today)
aquila--
Excellent metaphors!
Nameless Dread- I always called it the bone chill. That's what it feels like when it hits- like I'm cold right down in the bones of me, and nothing will ever warm it up. When I cracked up, and lost my job I spent about three years hanging right on the edge of that feeling, and frequently falling into the pit of it. But that was ten years ago.
Artwork gave me the energy to crawl up out of the pit. I burned at it like a maniac for six years. It kept the chill off me until the creative impulse just burned out. And now this long slow fall into the gravity of religion.
The synchronicities. They're intensified here in cyberspace because here we are stripped of our bodies, and voices. All we can do is send a stream of pure thought through the wires and out onto the web. A post here, a response there and I find myself a in the company of Raccoons, and reading the eighth chapter of the Book of Judges. Howhy did that happen?
But last night I got blindsided by the chill. I had the two to ten thirty shift- cleaning up an elementary school. It's always quiet, dark, and lonesome on a school plant at night. Mostly I enjoy it, but sometimes it just gets haunted with all the crappy ghosts of my last thirty years. So it was last night. I saw a printout of the salary scale for teachers lying on the table in the faculty lounge. It gave me a look at the kind of money I would be making if only- And usually I do a good job of not looking back. I run on gratitude, and it serves me well. But I got a whiff of what six thousand bucks a month, plus health insurance would be like. Didn't help matters. It was a long night.
And I got home and my mother was sitting there with the TV cranked up loud. Mary had junk for her art class strewn all over the den.
But right noe there's a Maxfield Parish sunset going on. I'm not proofing this ramble. I want to go see.
JWM
"But this just begs the larger issue that this is one of the very purposes of culture: to create a cohesive group fantasy in which unconscious anxieties and impulses can be contained. True, some people do this with religion, but there, the greater purpose is to plumb the depths of the unconscious in a healthy way. The left's fantasies are strikingly unhealthy, in large part because they don't realize that they are fantasies. They are like children acting out, only they think they are rational. "
At the risk of letting to much Pop into my diagnosis (I'm working on replacing the Pop with ol' Joe & Bud), there seems to be a similarity between the literal fundamentalist, who takes the vertical Truths and attempts to apply them as horizontal commands to achieve the appearance of righteousness, and the lefties, who having abolished Vertical truths from their ken, latch onto the latest all encompassing doom scenario, and proceed to apply it, together with their shamanistic solutions (the least colorful term I can think of for things such as "Use less toilet paper and save the Planet!"), use them as a way to connect with the all encompassing, and seem right in their behavior?
They both seem to rely so heavily on outward appearances, rather than, or even to avoid, inner efforts.
At the moment anonymous’s charge yesterday that all is pain, is feeling very real today. Sanding and staining the deck today. Pain everywhere.
I know Ricky gets a thrill out of mowing the lawn and stuff like that. Not me. Hate it. All things like it. Too much Slackabilly musician still in me I guess. I'd much rather trade some worthless money for someone else to do it, so I could have the time to find the value with my time. Then my wife points out the amount of worthless money we do and don't have, and here I go again.
Everyone knows I hate doing this stuff, my wife tries to be helpful and cheer me up, but my reaction is always "this is a bad thing that needs to be done. I'll be miserable doing it. Tough luck. I'm better being miserable, than pretending not to be. Just keep at a safe distance from me, and don't try to make me feel better, I'll be fine when it's done."
The only thing I can do that helps is working through some idea, today it was thinking about the post I've been trying to get the time to write for the last week and a half, and then Ben just about spills it. I've gotten used to Gagdad fully saying what I've only half started thinking ... that's become routine... but come on... et tu Ben?
All the bad things, the miserable things blend together for me across time – raking leaves as a kid, replacing toilets or staining decks as an adult, they all trip the ‘kill or be killed’ reaction in me, the task must die before I can go on living. It’s kind of interesting watching me from the inside go through the habitual ritual – slight snarl, head down, shoo people away, kill task, move on.
There’s a slight similarity there to the dreads, when they do come on. I used to get a nightmare as a kid, that I’d be alone on a vast empty plain, and there’d be one single, tiny white flower on it, and a frail mid level tone thrumming through the air… and I’d know that all was lost, complete chilling despair – it was coming and there was no escape. Finally I’d pick the flower, and then coming from across the miles of empty horizon, a low rumbling ocean grey green tidal wave growing to the size of a mountain, then slamming down upon me and the flower, parents gone, world gone, hope gone… and I’d wake drenched in chill sweat. They come, in whatever form or cause, sometimes the dreads come – you can’t brighten them, they’re going to sweep through you, like it or not. Detach and stand back best you can, they’ll course through and then be gone. On with the show.
e"When it's good, you call it joy, or bliss, or ananda, but when it's bad, you call it the nameless dread."
When I was younger, especially in the early years with the band, I used to give the dreads space in my mind, I’d dwell on them, worry at them, and at one point they began to nearly take shape in my life. Probably didn’t help that our drummer, who I was splitting rent with, at the time fancied himself a bit of a mystical magic savvy kind of guy. Really bought into the Ozzy & Dio heavy metal demonology stuff ‘no, I’m not into black magic, but if it comes down to it, I’ll have them working for us!’ yeah, thanks Steve, no thanks.
Drummers.
Anyway, I started having the sensation near to waking up time, of a buzzing, a buzzing that’d set my entire body to vibrating, and I’d know that the Malothorungodel (I was deep into Norse mythology at the time and had a good imagination), the hulking shadow beast, was coming down the hall, coming towards my door, coming through it – I’d be frozen in dream state body lock, buzzing, wanting to scream, to twist around and face it but unable to move, and it’d be right upon me, reaching for my throat… and then finally I’d wake, the buzzing still loud in my ears and neck, I’d twist around, and nothing there, but the buzzing fading away.
It took awhile, but I finally figured out that the time and thought I was giving to the dreads was feeding them, nourishing them, and when I went on a diet, they went away. Mostly. Once in a while they return, can’t be stopped I suppose, but I’m not going to feed them and fatten them up anymore. When they come, I let them. Let them come & do their thing. I’ll check around and see if I’m missing or neglecting something of importance, but other than that, I’ll just be polite, let them spend the night and move on in the morning.
Walt said “Do my eyes deceive me? I see Socialism as very threatening! Creeping Socialism is sort of my version of "nameless dread."
Yeah it is, and I do what I can, and knowing what I can and can’t do about it, do what I can & don’t worry too much about what I can’t. But there’ll always be bad things, and always be good things, and people who don’t know the difference.
Besides, if things get too bad, we’ll just crash at Smoov’s place.
;-)
About the fundamentalist...
I don't have that much a problem with the mythological mind, Van. Yea their culture-centric, and interpret the bible literally and all, but coming from a family who is this incarnate (I live in a town call Bethlehem, really), and looking around now that I'm through most of the tough shit--like transcending them--I really don't think most of them even know that they exist. Most are just out of it, and I really don't think that the majority have the capcity to understand the world any differently; doesn't mean that I don't speak my mind when i'm around them. Though, there are times when silence is preferable to the conflict of a useless argument.
Also, I've never thought that scripture was totally vertical; there's horizontal knowledge all through out, which means that there is the danger that one could get caught up in the net, so to speak, and go around in circles, but looking around...I think that people need to live and exhaust the myths fully in order to grow. Eventually they'll reach the limits of their particular horizonal quality, someone will get sick as hell from it, consequently wake up, and if that person is compassionate, transmission can take place.
I do see problems in fundamentalism, but I see that everywhere else too. There is a such thing as a healthy mythological mind. But maybe you where talking about something different?
...................................
On a different thread, the only weird experience that I had as a child happened for a time when I was about two or three. Every morning for a month or more, I would first become aware--or awake--as a pure personality floating in a darkness that wasn't scary (i think it was light), no memory of this life, nor even that I was waking up. Then I would fall for what seemed like miles, through clouds(a metaphor), then more gross, until feeling surged through my body and memory at the same time. I've always thought that where I fell from was where I was from, and it has alot to do with why i'm different. It's the earliest experience/knowledge of heaven and earth that i've had.
This happen to anyone else?
Van:
I understand the misery of "those tasks", when you're stuck in the peculiar hell of doing something you actively dislike. It almost makes it worse knowing that some people just love that 'paint the room, fix the yard, put in a new whatever...' I do what needs done, but I take no joy in 'those tasks' either.
It's wierd how suddenly all the spiritual growth, metaphysical awareness, and divine insight can vanish when you hear, "I need you to..." It's like all the anger in your system gavitates toward that one moment, and chokes out everything else.
And somehow you figure that spiritual growth should give you some immunity from that kind of petty rage. No such luck. Best you can do is be mindful of your behavior, and not sling the anger at someone else. So you grit your teeth, and get it done. feh :P
Oh- the sunset was great. The sky is clear; the moon is bright. Last week I bought a telescope for thirty bucks at a local discount store. Set it up and checked out the craters. The other night I saw Jupiter and four of the moons. Fun.
JWM
John-
Van-
What you both said, in your own ways.
Can be distilled in two words...
Stand fast!
That's what the Remnant does.
That's what we do!
You keep on keepin' on.
You fight and resist, to the end and beyond.
And, by surrenderin' to God, the O within' the "I"...
Well...therein lies True Honor.
Therein lies Victory through the changes we must embrace.
I'll be writin' more about that, so stay tuned, if you will.
I began this day lucid and with my Coonvision on.
I'll end and begin at my site- grog-gy: my Coonvision still on.
There is so much here to diejest...
I've been thinking lately about what may happen to the Left in this country as the aging deadheads realize that haven't created the utopia that they invisioned in their youthful, drug induced visions and time is running out for them. That, coupled with the anarchistic, thumb sucking neo-hippies, which they have created, encouraged and emboldened with their winks and nods before the election, who are becoming increasingly frustrated by the lack of action in areas such as the war, the Bush Impeachment and more government handouts. Then, to top it off, the deadhead establishment begins to turn on their disillusioned spawn for asking the wrong questions and behaving towards them like they were taught to behave towards the EEEEVIL conservative.
It seems to be brewing a perfect storm of frustration for the petulant.
68' Dem Convention replay anyone?
DON'T TAZE ME BRO!
Very well said, Hoarhey!
Bravo Zulu!
I'm glad to see you back! :^)
Not to interrupt this important thread, but,
Hi Van,
I wouldn’t use the word “thrill” to describe cutting the grass. I may have been misunderstood. I know the type of person you may be describing. I don’t have that kind of energy. You see, I just spent a few years trying to fix this fixer-upper doing too much of the work myself. I’m trying to think…nope didn’t enjoy any of it. What’s the opposite of enjoy. My plan was to do it now instead of 10 years from now, or stretching out over 10 years, compress the schedule to get it behind me.
The grass cutting was one of those other chores that I had to be done on top of everything else, and often best to do before the real work on the house or I’d be too tired to do it after. I have only maybe the winter now to finish a handful of indoor projects around here. Took most of this summer off from working on it. I couldn’t force myself to do much right now.
So this change in the mowing has taken me by surprise. It had never been this way before. And so far it is the only task around here that works this way. One of those things I can do without thinking about it. The other work around here is piling up for the winter and I’m not looking forward to it at all.
I hope this doesn’t come across too strong. I’m not upset. It’s just..if you are picturing me enjoying swinging anymore hammers... man that’s way off :-) But my error really – didn’t explain it well. The best I can come up with about the mowing is that it is ‘maintenance’ vs the other stuff which is ‘too much’. And I thought maybe I could get ‘it all’ behind me. In other words, there is a certain level of maintenance required. Maintenance of lots of things, body, mind, soul and spirit.
BTW, the Nameless Dread, I had similar experiences. I mentioned them to Bob a few days ago. Mine I think were closer to what Robin called ‘the big littles’. I was about 5, I think, when they started. I used to call them fevers because they felt a lot like the high fevers I used to have around the same time. My head burning. I can remember getting out of bed late at night and going to the bathroom, had to get out of the bed, and my head feeling oversized. But with that was this sense that everything was too large, the room was too large and solid so at the same time crushing. It took a good deal of relaxing myself to make it go away. I can remember my mother had to help me through it once during a fever. I can remember coming out of it like a hallucination.
Since those few times that that happened, mostly at night as a child lying in bed waiting to fall asleep I would settle on thinking about space - trying to comprehend how it could be infinite and always expanding and what was the expanding expanding into? What was beyond the edge of it? And time as well. The thoughts would always follow the same route. I’d get to that point I just described and by then was almost in a panic in my head. Like everything would vanish if I dared to think a little further. Like the jig would be up. But it quickly went away as I came to my senses and cut the thought off, turned away from it. This was followed by a wonderful sense of warmth and safety. I went through this many times.
Van-
"So many drummers, so little time."
Coonified said “Also, I've never thought that scripture was totally vertical; there's horizontal knowledge all through out, which means that there is the danger that one could get caught up in the net, so to speak, and go around in circles, but looking around...I think that people need to live and exhaust the myths fully in order to grow.”
That’s an interesting point that I’ve puzzled over a lot ‘sometimes a cigar is just a cigar…’. I believe you are correct there, though to be sure to see the items that are Horizontal, as opposed to the Vertical… I think you need to be looking at them from a Vertical perspective.
“I do see problems in fundamentalism, but I see that everywhere else too. There is a such thing as a healthy mythological mind.”
Oh I think there certainly is such a thing as a healthy mythological mind, what’s unhealthy is when it is applied out of its realm. I’ve said that the literalist fundamentalist and the barking atheist are two sides of the same coin, but I’d say the Fundies are the Heads side.
JWM said "It's wierd how suddenly all the spiritual growth, metaphysical awareness, and divine insight can vanish when you hear, "I need you to..." "
Yes indeedy! I about to experience round two of it very soon. sigh.
Anytime you think you can just live in the Vertical... you can pretty much bet a "I need you to..." is just around the corner!
We recently started pulling out a telescope that'd been gathering dust for years, setting it up on the deck (which worked just fine without being sanded and stained, IMHO) - it's a thrill. Especially getting to see through the 8,15 & 19 yr olds eyes too.
Coonified said " would first become aware--or awake--as a pure personality floating in a darkness that wasn't scary (i think it was light), no memory of this life, nor even that I was waking up. Then I would fall for what seemed like miles, through clouds(a metaphor), then more gross, until feeling surged through my body and memory at the same time."
I felt a very similar experience every time I blacked out as a teen (blood sugar and growth spurts one summer)... still has a significant affect on how I see the world.
wv:uwpkh - I do, but not at the end.
Ricky, I hear you on the to-do's.
Hey the 'big head' thing? I used to feel that too when I had a fever... interesting.
debass said... "So many drummers, so little time."
LOL!
I told my 15 yrold when he wanted a drum set, to keep in mind I used to almost always have to throw a drummer, at least once!
Fortunately he prefers Bass - not a bad drummer too though... got to keep my eye on him.
;-)
"I felt a very similar experience every time I blacked out as a teen (blood sugar and growth spurts one summer)... still has a significant affect on how I see the world."
yea, I'm sure it's a response to some kind of illness--i started having night terrors a couple of years later. Maybe it was my regressing ego or something, Winnicott's true self. Or maybe, it was the higher self. Suppose they're the same thing.
"though to be sure to see the items that are Horizontal, as opposed to the Vertical… I think you need to be looking at them from a Vertical perspective."
Yea, i guess the vertical is all that's really looking, as opposed to being identified with a horizontal personality whose looking for whose looking, and therefore usurps the validity of all other unlike horizontal personalities, above and below.
There's an interesting transition, though. Spiral dynamics, with its goofy coloring scheme, as bob has commented, recognizes a distinction between first tier and second tier modes of awarenesss, the first being guilty of most of the categorical trespassing, while the latter begins to see the seer present in all. The difference is infinite, I think.
"what’s unhealthy is when it is applied out of its realm. I’ve said that the literalist fundamentalist and the barking atheist are two sides of the same coin, but I’d say the Fundies are the Heads side."
Agreed. :)
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