by Matt Licata
It can take some time and experience to allow this realization to filter in and wash through our bodies, nervous systems, and hearts. From this deeper layer of meeting them at a more energetic level, we discover that we need not do anything active in order to “transform” them but only hold and touch them with greater awareness, mercy, and compassion. And then whether they are coming, going, or staying becomes secondary, for we see that our suffering and struggle is not inherent in these feeling states but arises out of a shift in our relationship with whatever appears. This is a profoundly empowering realization. As with a house guest we recognize as a part of ourselves and a carrier of important guidance for our ongoing journey, even if at times they are disturbing or provoking, we allow them the space to come, to stay for a while, and eventually to move on. We care for them, nurture them, and are curious about them, while at the same time we establish healthy boundaries so that we do not fuse or become enmeshed or flooded by them. We meet them in this alchemical middle territory, which is intimate but always a bit uncertain and unknown, full of possibility, creative, and alive.
Anger and Rage as Portal
As I noted earlier, one of the more common experiences we either deny, repress, or act out in unhealthy ways is that of anger. Rather than cultivating a conscious, embodied, and curious relationship with this natural energy, we often engage in a variety of inner and outer behaviors to avoid meeting it directly. But no matter how hard we try, at times the visitor of rage will push its way into conscious awareness. We might envision it as an ancient companion from whom we had to split off at an earlier time, despite it being a valid and sane response to terror, abuse, neglect, and boundary violation . . . a natural reaction to narcissistic injury and a deeply misattuned world.
In just this one moment, receive and touch this anger. Be touched by it, for just one second, or two. Fully. Not partially. Speak with the angry one, listen to him, at a pace that is provocative, yet safe enough. Feel what he is feeling, see what she is seeing, imagine what they have come to imagine; be a vessel in which this one can find sanctuary and safe passage from an exhausting journey. Open a dialogue into relationship with this forgotten soul part who has returned, longing to be allowed back home.
We all know the tragic effects of disavowing our anger, denying this one a seat at the table of Being. But sending it into the underworld does not purge or heal him or her. Pretending we’re never angry, discharging the feeling in unconscious behaviors, or engaging a fantasy that it’s not “spiritual” to have feelings of rage only allows the emotion to gain energy like a psychic tornado, spinning and gathering force within the shadow, where it will eventually surge, often in ways that can be incredibly destructive.
Separate a bit from the anger so that you do not fuse with it. The invitation is to move close but not too close. Open to an intimacy without fusion, honoring your own integrity as you enter the interactional field. “I will enter relationship with you but will not merge with you. I am listening. I will no longer deny you, but I will not be flooded and taken over by you. I will meet you in the middle. We will work together now to protect and defend my own integrity but in a way that also honors my vulnerability, sensitivity, and eccentricity. I will no longer deny you, but I will not allow you to control me. I will consider your position, but I will have the ultimate say.”
Find a provocative but not overwhelming boundary. In this liminal, in-between state, we don’t repress, dissociate, or split, but we also do not fall in, drown, and act out in unhealthy, habitual, and addictive ways. In the alchemical middle, rage is not a toxin we must expunge from what we are but an intense and wrathful energy, an organic part of the human psyche that only longs to be integrated and provided its rightful home. Anger is life itself, wanting to be known and here to serve a vital function, but it must be understood, digested, touched, and metabolized in order for its intelligence to flow.
In this sense, anger is not something that needs to be fixed, cured, or even healed. It is not a sin, and its wave-like appearance is not evidence that you have failed, fallen short, are not “spiritual,” or have descended into a pathological state. It is evidence that you are alive, that you have a human nervous system, and that you are in touch with sacred life energy, albeit an energy often misunderstood. The anger is not the problem but its repression, dissociation, and acting out in an unconscious, disembodied way that can be so devastating.
With the fire of curiosity, deep care, and the commitment to no longer abandon yourself—and with the ally of the breath as your guide—descend into your belly, touch your heart, open a portal to your throat. Find the anger lodged in your somatic being, hiding out and pleading for reunion, buried in the old stories and the unfelt emotions. Make a journey into the core of the rage and feel the feelings, sense the sensations, and touch the raw, shaky life longing to be held. Dare to see this one not as enemy but an ally and harbinger of integration.
By way of this journey, anger will be revealed as what it is, a secret wisdom-guide and bridge into the universal heart—a messenger of power, clarity, and fierce compassion that wants you as its midwife. In ways that seem contradictory and paradoxical, befriending this anger opens a portal into connection with others—others external to us as well as lost figures and pieces of soul within—so that we may live and move and dance with them in skillful, wise, sensitive, and compassionate ways.
Projection and the Mysterious Other
It can be fascinating (and disturbing) to see how we locate and discover qualities in others with which we long to be in touch in ourselves but for one reason or another have turned from and disowned. It is no coincidence that we tend to attract and are attracted to (as well as repel and are repelled by) those we perceive as embodying a quality we’ve lost contact with internally. To return to a previous example, say we meet with someone we see as being extraordinarily dependent. They nag their partner, are super clingy and unable to function on their own, and manifest an overall repulsive state of neediness. We are nauseated. “God, what is wrong with them? They are clearly lost in some state of codependence. I feel sorry for them. They are so annoying. Grow up!” Moreover, we assure ourselves by noting there is no way we would ever be like that.
Of course, our observations could be “true” about the other, but for the purposes of this vignette, that is not the point. As Jung clarifies, projection rarely flows in one direction only; the recipient will often provide a “hook” upon which we can hang our projection.1 In this sense, projection is an interpersonal process, occurring at the intersection of the conscious and unconscious aspects of two subjectivities, not just something one party is doing to another.2 What we’re on the lookout for is an irrational, emotional reaction on our part in response to the relatively innocent behavior of another. This reactivity can come about in a conversation with someone we know well or even in our observation of a stranger across the room with whom we have absolutely no history. Somehow, just by being themselves, the other triggers an unexplainable surge of feeling, rage, irritation, embarrassment, or fascination. What is happening here?
As I’ve mentioned, as young children we made the (usually unconscious) decision to disconnect from certain feelings and parts of ourselves that threatened to disrupt the tie with important caregivers. We are wired to do whatever possible to keep the connection intact, even if the resulting contact was misattuned, neglectful, or even (sadly) abusive. In the tender, developing nervous system of a little one, some contact is better than none. At times, maintaining connection required that we split off from native ways of being and disconnect from parts of ourselves, including even which ideas and emotional experience were permitted to be felt and expressed. As painful as this was, the capacity to disconnect in this way was an act of intelligence and creativity at the time, an early attempt at self-care, and it served a critical survival function.
Although I believe that on some deep level we have a genuine longing to reclaim these lost soul parts and unique expressions of our personalit
ies, it can feel unsafe to allow them back in consciously and directly, for we sense that to do so might generate too much anxiety and uncertainty. If we re-embody to these orphaned aspects of our experience, how will others respond? Will they abandon us? Shame us? Meet us with rage, disappointment, and judgment? Will they withdraw affection, love, and holding as was the case in earlier times when we took the risk to be ourselves? Yes, on the one hand we yearn for reunion with the entirety of what we are, but on the other hand there is understandable concern that it just won’t be safe to do so.
By locating (finding) these qualities in another, however, we can explore what we’ve disconnected from at a distance in a way that feels safer. There is a real intelligence in this we can honor; there’s no need to shame or judge ourselves for “projecting” and not being able to immediately call forward the lost essences within. We all project, and by “all” I really do mean all; it is a natural function of the human psyche, not a fault to attack as evidence of our psychological or spiritual immaturity.
As we bring more awareness to what’s going on during these unique moments of activation, we can begin to open to the possibility of reclaiming core parts of ourselves along with the associated emotional experience we had to disown at an earlier time. There is nothing wrong with turning to another to help us access and integrate aspects of ourselves with which we have lost contact; as always, the invitation is not to never do this but to bring as much consciousness and compassion as we can to what is happening. We can be sensitive to the burden we might be placing on another to care for our lost emotional world for us, which even if they love us profoundly, they cannot do. In fact, they might come to unconsciously (or otherwise) resent us for asking that they do this because they sense at a deep level that they will not ultimately succeed. They can help tremendously, of course, creating a sanctuary within the relational field where we might be able to feel safer (at times), contact more insight and self-awareness, and open where such opening was not previously possible.
Over time, yes, we can locate this activity inside and learn to provide that function and field of safety for ourselves. It’s not a matter of either or but of both and, when at times we allow ourselves to reach out to another for help and at other times make effort to provide that attunement, holding, and care for ourselves. We can build these resources slowly, over time, generating deeper levels of trust in ourselves to wisely and compassionately tend to whatever inner state presents itself. With practice, we can internalize this environment of attunement and safely gather the pieces of psyche, soma, and soul.
Forerunners of Integration
Whenever you find yourself surprised at how triggered you become toward a certain person, thrown off center by some way they act or speak, annoyed or irritated beyond what seems appropriate for the situation—or even infatuated with them in a way that seems surprising—slow down and pay careful attention. Something important is being presented. An invitation is being offered. Be kind to yourself. Be curious. No shame, blame, or judgment. Just curiosity and kindness. Before you act, which can seem so urgent in the moment, just pause for a second and bring awareness to the overall situation. If you can, make a quick scan throughout the layers of experience—core beliefs, overall mood, felt sense in the body, impulses to do something.
Again, look for responses that are irrational, overblown, and seem to occur on their own, out of the blue, in a surge of unexpected feeling, and you become hooked into a cascade of thoughts, images, emotions, and sensations in the body. Jung speaks about the autonomous nature of this material, in which for a moment what he calls a “splinter personality” takes over ordinary ego consciousness and colors our perception, constellating powerful feelings and mental associations.3 Usually, a lot of emotion is associated with our complexes, most provocatively activated in the context of relationship with others who, as we’ve been exploring, in one way or another carry qualities with which we have lost contact in ourselves. Anytime we’re observing another or in dialogue with them and a flood of ruminating thoughts or cascading feelings comes into the field, it is an invitation for us to slow down and to get really curious: What’s going on here?
It’s important to note I’m not speaking about passively standing by, slowly working with your complexes or engaging any other inner work for that matter, if someone is being abusive or disrespectful to you, and they are unloading their unconscious onto you in a way that is aggressive or unsafe. In these situations, please confront the situation directly, enact a clear boundary, and act to stand up for yourself. What I’m addressing here are situations in which this isn’t happening, and the other isn’t doing anything to you but just being themselves, and seemingly out of nowhere you notice yourself in a totally reactionary state, flooded with feelings, images, and thoughts that seem excessive and as if they have come out of nowhere.
Although it’s heartening to see pockets of greater interest in shadow work and projection in the greater culture, as with all subtle teachings, those on shadow can be co-opted to validate all sorts of unhealthy and narcissistic behavior. An example is acting in a way that is deeply unkind and unconscious, then in response to being called out on it, stating unequivocally and with an inflated spiritual ego, “Oh, that’s just your own projection.” I’m sure you know what I mean. That is not what I’m describing here.
Rather, I’m addressing those relatively harmless, more neutral situations in which, before you know it, you’re hooked into an unexpected surge of emotion, lashing out at the other, critiquing, judging, attacking them (or yourself) in a way that, on deeper reflection, just feels a bit overdone. Or maybe you’re idolizing them, turning them into a savior, irrationally falling in love with them in a way that just doesn’t fit with the actual situation on the ground. In these moments, material from the unconscious is attempting to make its way to the surface, not to harm or throw us off course but as a forerunner of integration.
An Experiment in Illuminating Projection
One way to explore this material for yourself is to ask: What qualities in others (positive or negative) have an uncanny ability to throw me off-center, triggering an avalanche of charged feelings, images, urges, and sensations? What gets my mind racing and feeling all hot and bothered, hooked and claustrophobic, or enraged and activated in a way that seems exaggerated? We can of course look out for this in a moment of actual interchange with another, which might be the most powerful (yet difficult) way to explore this material, but it can also be done as a meditation, by way of imagination and visualization.
For example, bring a person to mind who has a way of inducing these sorts of reactions within you—someone who triggers anger, annoyance, hatred, or aggression. Or, from the more positive side, maybe they excite you or you long to get closer and urgently move toward them, or in some way you idolize them or have placed them onto a pedestal. These reactions appear in ways that seem extravagant or otherwise not fully based in reality.
For just a moment, set aside any interpretation of what might be happening as well as any demand to understand or analyze what’s going on. Let the “external” person go and see if you can open to an “internal other” arising now to be known, held, and allowed back inside. Scan your body and the felt sense of the overall situation and atmosphere, and use your breath to stay close to yourself. Provide a home for the lost ones to return.
What has this person activated in you? What is most needing extra attention and loving awareness in this moment of activation? What has the “external” other come to remind you of? What quality or aspect of yourself have you fallen out of relationship with for which this one is opening a doorway into reunion?
As you contact this material within you, go slowly and bring as much curiosity as you are able to what is wanting to be met. Allow it to make itself known across the various layers of experience, including through thoughts, underlying beliefs, feelings, emotions, sensations, memories, images, and urges to act. Separate from it a bit so that you can maintain perspective but n
ot so much that you lose close contact. Provide sanctuary for the material and the figures to dance and speak to you and tell you what they need and why they have come. Engage in active dialogue and inquiry for a while, and then rest. Allow the visualization to dissolve back into the open space from which it came.
Illuminating Narcissistic Organization
As we explore the shadow and the role of the “other” in our lives and our capacity to attune as well as receive such attunement from them, it can be helpful to bring the topic of narcissism into our inquiry. The use of the word “narcissist” and the topic of narcissism is on the rise in contemporary culture and is employed in a variety of ways and contexts. Many different meanings are ascribed to the notion of narcissism and there is quite a lot of confusion about it. Narcissism unfolds along a spectrum, from what we might refer to as “healthy” or “functional” narcissism on one end of the scale (referring to a basic sense of self-worth, ego strength, and self-esteem) to pathological, destructive narcissistic personality disorder on the other. The great pain, trauma, neglect, and abuse as a result of narcissistic injury are incredibly important (and heartbreaking) topics, including how to best help our dear brothers and sisters who have fallen prey to the devastating effects of narcissistic behavior in all its forms. Let us each take a moment to send our blessings, thoughts, and love to all victims of narcissism, along with our prayers that they find their birthright of healing, peace, and the true joy.