Even during the initial opening, it was clear that any hope and fear is a projection. Anything that appears “out there” and not also “in here” is a projection. Any idea of a being, existence, separation, is a projection.
Any idea that anything can save me, or that there is anyone who needs to or can be saved, is a projection. Any idea of lack of completeness, someone or something that can complete me, is a projection.
It’s all created by images and words, apparently stuck onto sensations, and made to appear solid and real that way.
I have seen this for a while now.
I also notice that any idea that I can find fulfillment or completion in a nice house, car, education, work, travel and so on are seen and felt to not be true. At least to a large extent.
What’s left right now is the idea that a relationship can or will save me, make me complete, and make me come alive.
There is a partial truth to this. A relationship, and perhaps especially a new one, can trigger all of these experiences. Still, it doesn’t last. And it’s like taking a pill, it’s dependency on something to make it happen. (Neither is wrong or bad at all, it’s just an inherent limitation.)
The invitation is to examine these identifications and beliefs. And often it’s the pain of relationship loss that brings us to it in a more whole hearted and sincere way.
Early on in an awakening, and even much later, there may be several things that are a bit “off”, and that’s part of the process too. It seems that most or all (?) of it is from (a) holding certain ideas as true, and (b) projections. Here are some of these:
I am here to save people, the world. They need me to save them. They need to be saved. (Don’t recognize that no-one really needs to be “saved”, and that a simpler way is to make myself available to support when asked.)
I need to share my insights. I need to tell others about it. I need them to “get it” too. (An attempt to hold onto and solidify any insights and seeing that’s here. Fear of losing it.)
I am awake, they are not. (Don’t recognize it’s all already awakeness, and that awake is an idea.)
Humanity is on the verge of mass awakening. (Projection of what’s here. A projection of the awakening here onto “the world out there”.)
I am special, chosen. They are not. (Don’t recognize how we are all chosen, in a sense.)
Other people bore me. They are caught in delusion. I don’t find them interesting. (Projection of delusion on others.)
There is only emptiness. Only awareness. (Holding ideas of emptiness, awareness etc. as solid and true. “Stuck in the absolute”.)
Life will take care of me. I don’t need to take care of my own life the way society tells me to. (Don’t recognize that we are still invited to be a good steward for our own life.)
This is “it”. I have arrived. This is a full awakening. There is nothing more. (The mind is trying to find a sense of security and safety in these stories of “permanence” and having “arrived”. Don’t recognize that (a) we don’t know, and (b) the unfolding – of reality revealing itself to itself – seems to be ongoing.)
It’s possible, and even quite common, for there to be a mix of awakening (reality awake to itself, to some extent) and beliefs, wounds and deficiency stories. These wounds, beliefs and deficiency stories seek the light, they seek to be loved, felt, and seen through. Note: I listened to an online satsang, and saw a few of these from both the main person and the people calling in. It’s all happening within my own world of images. It’s all reflecting me as a human being. It’s all for me to look at here, and in my own life. Read More
Why do some think that their tradition or practice is the best?
I can think of a few different reasons:
It’s the typical in-group / out-group dynamic.
This creates a sense of cohesion within the group. We are better than them. We know how things are. We are the chosen ones.
It also makes people feel better about themselves. I am with the right group. I’ll be saved.
It may come from ignorance. People may be misinformed about other traditions, or may not know much about them.
They may have a good point. Each tradition has its strengths and weaknesses, and the strengths may well be stronger than in some other traditions.
It also seems that this attitude may be increasingly more difficult to maintain, for a few different reasons.
We are better informed about other traditions and practices.
We encounter more frequently people from other traditions and practices, and see that they are as smart as us.
It simply looks pretty stupid to think that your tradition is the best (!). Especially considering that most people know that such an assumption is typically (a) used to keep people in the tradition, and (b) is often based in fear and insecurity, and is an attempt to feel better about ourselves.
I have always been eclectic in my approach, and see the value in all the main spiritual traditions and a wide range of practices. They are all medicine for people with different backgrounds, from different cultures, and at different phases in their process. So although I seek out practices that seem the most effective for me, I also realize that they are not inherently or absolutely “better” than other practices out there. And they are definitely not better than what’s possible, and what will most likely be developed in the future.
As part of a spiritual emergency, it’s common for people to be highly sensitive – to the energies of other people, places, the land, food and more.
I have certainly experienced my share of it.
There is a gift in this sensitivity, since it provides us guidance (what to do, what not to do), it can give us insights and inspiration (for writing, art), and it can help us help others.
It can also be very challenging – and even painful – at times.
Here are some things I have found helpful:
Recognizing the difference between the sensitivity, and my reaction to or relationship with it. The sensitivity itself is OK. It’s my reaction to it that sometimes is stressful and painful (and it comes from my own wounding and unexamined assumptions).
Inquiring into my stories about what’s going on, including the trigger and what’s triggered. Help myself see more clearly what’s really going on.
Finding in myself what I see as “out there”. Owning it. Embracing it. Healing and finding my own wholeness as a human being.
Taking care of myself. Allowing myself to leave situations that feel uncomfortable, if that seems the most kind choice. (And owning that I am doing so at least partly because I am not quite healed and whole yet.) For instance, if I sit next to someone on the train whose energy triggers something in me, I give myself permission to stand up and go somewhere else.
Spending time in nature. Healing physically and emotionally. Finding nurturing environments, people, activities etc. Find grounding psychologically (healing, wholeness) and energetically (nature, gardening, tai chi etc.). Allowing the soul level to work on me – through prayer and meditation – infusing my human self and inviting it to heal and find its own wholeness.
Pain is a total projection, and it prevents us from noticing that it’s all love.
– Byron Katie, paraphrased from a webcast
I see this for myself, and these days especially when I use the living inquiries.
When words, images and sensations combine into the appearance of pain, it’s experienced as painful, whether it’s emotional or physical pain.
Examining each of these separately, I see there is no threat in the words, in the images, or in the sensations. (And if there appear to be, I can – for instance – look for underlying images and ask if there is a threat there.) The stickiness of the idea or experience of “pain” is reduced or falls away.
There may still be words, images and sensations, and more of an allowing of these, and a noticing that they are already allowed. The sticky conglomerate of words, images and sensations called “pain” is not there anymore, or it’s faded and in the background.
I get to see that “pain” is a projection, and that what’s here is love.
What’s here is all there is. What’s here includes my images of past, future and present, of time and space. Any images of something somewhere else, or in the past or future, is here.
What’s here includes (the essence of) what I desire. When I track back my wishes and desires to their essence, I find that their essence is some variation of love, trust, rest, engagement, connection, aliveness or some other characteristic of what we are. Is it true that love is not already here? Is it true that trust is not already here? Is it true that aliveness is not already here?
So this is it, because (a) this is all there is, and (b) what I desire is here.
These are questions and pointers, at most. And they may also serve to bring up beliefs for inquiry.
There is something out there. Where is my evidence?
What’s here is not as good as what I wish for. It’s better when it comes from someone else. What do I find when I look into this? Is this really not as good? Can I get anything from someone else?
Projections are really quite simple. There is an image or thought here, another set of images of space and time, and the first image is placed somewhere in space and time.
It’s very helpful and functional for the mind to do this. As long as it’s recognized for what it is, and held lightly, it’s stress free.
And as soon as these images are solidified and mistaken for reality, it’s stressful and painful.
For me, I see a tendency to project fears and hopes into the future.
A thought says that I feel good or am in a good situation, it’s projected into the future, solidified, and when the situation shifts it’s painful.
A thought says that what’s here or what will be is bad or undesirable, this is projected into the future and solidified, and that is painful too.
The same happens with my images of the past. A thought says that something in the past was good and is not here anymore, and when this is solidified it’s painful. A thought says something in the past was bad, that is solidified, and that is painful too.
And the same happens with my images of space. A thought says something out there is good and what’s here in me or my life is bad, it’s solidified, and it’s painful. A thought says something here is good and what’s out there is bad and impacting what’s here that’s good, it’s solidified as real, and that’s painful.
And it all hinges on the image of a me or I here in the center of it all, in the center of space and time, and a wider world outside of this me or I. When those images – of space and time, and a me and a wider world – are solidified and taken as real, it’s painful.
I watched Kumaré the other day, and thought it was – or at least turned out to be – a quite beautiful and heart centered story. Many of his essential pointers were very good, especially the reminder that any guru “out there” in the world is a mirror of what’s in me. He or she is a reflection of my own wisdom, clarity, joy, love.
I also enjoyed how he had his followers take his role, and give advice to themselves from the position of the guru. That’s something I have explored for myself. If I was a guru – with great wisdom, love and care – what advice would I give myself?
I keep noticing and being curious about projections.
Something is here in my experience, my field of awareness , for instance a feeling, emotion, images, thoughts.
Another thought comes in and labels it, for instance fear, sadness, joy, generosity.
And yet another image or thought locates it, either in me or someone else.
Of course, it’s all happening within my own field of awareness. It’s all me. Even if an image or thought says “it belongs to him” it’s still all me.
It’s a projection in two main ways. A thought may say it belongs to someone else or the wider world, and yet…..
Looking at the content of the story, I can find examples of how it applies to me as a human being in the world.
It’s all – the images and stories and what they refer to – happening within this field of awareness, within what I am.
Projections are very useful. We couldn’t function without them.
And it’s also helpful to recognize them for what they are. That helps me hold them a little more lightly, more as questions and pointers to what’s here in me as a human being and this field of awareness creating my whole world.
When I do ho’oponopono, tonglen, hold satsang with what I see in myself, others or the world, or pray for myself or others, what I do is heal my images of the world.
I invite in healing for my images of myself, others and the world.
For instance, I see what I imagine is fear in another, and hold satsang with it. You are welcome here. Thank you for protecting (me, the other). How would you like me to be with you? What would satisfy you forever? What are you really?
I find it’s already allowed (by life). I find how it comes from love, and is love. I find it’s innocence. I find that it already is Spirit.
And in that way, my images of it are healed. My images align a little closer to reality.
It may be obvious, and yet perhaps not completely for most of us. It may not be seen thoroughly, felt thoroughly, and lived thoroughly. There is always more to explore and let sink in.
God is a projection. God is an image that’s here. The qualities and characteristics it refers to is here. The image of me and God is here. The image of here and there is here.
And the same with the world. That too is a projection.
My world is a projection. My God is a projection. The image and what it refers to, and all the other images it rests and depends on, they are all here.
And the same with time and space. And me and I. My perception of time and space, my perception of a me and I, are all filtered through my own world of images. Whatever image I have of it all is my images. The images are here. What they refer to is here.
Real longing is usually for some deep emotional place, happiness, peace, forgiveness, love. Even our mundane desires are connected to longing. If I get this thing, I will feel this way. You don’t want the thing, you want how it will make you feel. [….] Longing comes from an absolute fullness. The longing comes from its completion, it comes from absolute abundance…. that you are unconscious of, however. Longing is sent into consciousness, it’s a way of pulling you back into your own fullness. It comes from fullness and pulls you back to fullness, if you follow it back from where it came. It brings you back from where it came. And you find, it came from fullness. The longing for happiness came from happiness. The longing for enlightenment came from enlightenment. The longing for peace came from peace.
– Adyashanti, The Red Thread of Desire, disc 2, sections 7 and 8. (Slightly edited for clarity.)
The simplest is that my images and thoughts about the world is an overlay on simple perceptions. There are sensations, sights, sounds, taste and smell, and then an overlay of images and thoughts creating labels, boundaries, interpretations and stories.
These are, in a sense, projections. It’s all happening within and as my world of experience, within and as awareness. And I have an image of a car, and imagine it’s out there in the world. I have an image of a situation, and imagine it’s in my past or a future. I have an image of me and I, and imagine what these images refer to is here.
Sometimes, these images and thoughts are recognized as just that, as an overlay, as an innocent question about the world, and temporary and practical guidelines at most. And sometimes, they are taken as true, solid, and real, as inherent in the world, something I can’t – at the time – even imagine question. (Until I do.)
So the simplest and most basic way of looking as projections is this overlay of images and thoughts, essential for functioning in the world. And the next layer is whether it’s recognized as just that – in view and also emotionally, energetically and in behavior. Or taken as real and seen, felt and/or lived as real.
The way the word projection is often used is in the last way, when these images and thoughts are taken as real. That’s when I see something out there – in others, in the world, in the past or future, and not (also) here in me now. And that’s really just one subset.
I usually don’t use the words shadow or projection these days. And that’s perhaps a good reason to see what these words would mean to me now.
For instance, shadow is usually defined as:
A dark area or shape produced by a body coming between rays of light and a surface. (Physical definition.)
In Jungian psychology, the shadow or “shadow aspect” may refer to (1) the entirety of the unconscious, i.e., everything of which a person is not fully conscious (2) an unconscious aspect of the personality which the conscious ego does not recognize in itself. Because one tends to reject or remain ignorant of the least desirable aspects of ones personality, the shadow is largely negative. There are, however, positive aspects which may also remain hidden in ones shadow (especially in people with low self esteem). (Wikipedia.)
For me right now, focusing mostly on The Work, I see that any thought – when taken as true – comes with it’s own shadow.
The shadow of a thought is, to put it simply, (a) the truth in the turnarounds of the thought, and recognizing (b) that it’s just a thought, an innocent question about the world, and has no absolute or final truth in it. This is what’s not recognized, especially at a felt level, when a thought is taken as true.
If I – in a certain situation – think that life is unfair and take that thought as true, then it’s shadow is examples of (a) how life is fair and (b) how I am unfair (in my thinking about life), and (c) that it’s a thought, an innocent question, and I honestly cannot know.
If I think that M. is caught up in conspiracy theories, and believe that thought, then the shadow is examples of (a) how M. is not caught up in conspiracy theories, (b) how I am caught up in conspiracy theories (about him, life), and (c) that it’s a thought, an assumption, a question, and that I don’t know.
Adyashanti – and I am sure many others – sometimes talk about the dream of the ego.
The dream of the ego are the thoughts we, in our confusion, may have about a permanent state where what we see as good and desirable is present, and what we see and bad and undesirable is absent. This dream may take many forms: A paradise after this life. A permanent state of enlightenment in this life. A life with money, house, family, success, admiration and so on.
It comes from a series of beliefs and assumptions: (a) There is time and space this can happen within. (b) There is an I here that this happens to. (c) It’s possible to find a permanent state, something within content of experience I can rely on. (d) Life – situations, experiences – are inherently good, bad or neutral.
What does “ego” refer to here? It may sound like an entity of some sort, and yet, it’s really just the dynamics created when a thought – any thought – is taken as true: The identification with the viewpoint of the thought, and the sense of I created from this. The assumptions that the boundaries and the labels inherent in the thought are real and solid. The shoulds that may come from the belief. The emotions created from the belief, especially when life aligns with the belief or not. The life that comes from the belief.
So what’s a more realistic approach than pursuing the dream of the ego, thinking it will solve all problems and give me a state of permanent bliss? For me, it’s to find peace with what’s here, whatever it may be. Examine my beliefs about it and find what’s (already) more true for me. Perhaps even recognize what’s here – whatever it may be – as the divine, just as it is.
There are of course many ways of understanding the story of the garden of Eden and the “fall”, each with some validity to them.
Any story, including the ones from mythology and religion, can be seen as reflecting something here and now.
So one of the simpest ways of understanding this story, and one of the almost literal interpretations, is that eating from the tree of knowledge of good and evil is a reflection of taking stories – specifically stories of good and evil, right and wrong – as true. When I “eat” the stories of good and evil, I take them as true and somehow inherent in reality. It’s something that happens here and now for most of us, and it is a “fall”, a loss of paradise.
All that’s needed is clarity about the stressful story that’s here now. Christ may represent that clarity, and Christ may especially represent clarity around the story of I. When any story is seen for what it is, Christ reveals itself to some extent. The wisdom and kindness that’s always here can shine through our lives a little more clearly. And when the story of I is seen for what it is, Christ reveals itself even more clearly to itself and in our lives. Even here, there may still be beliefs in stories. There may be a fall, being thrown out of paradise, and (the opportunity for) another redemption through clarity.
I listened to The Psychiatrist and Rudolph Hess, a BBC Witness podcast, and it seems the British psychiatrist evaluating Hess was quite eager to label him insane and even weak. I wonder if this comes from a desire to see him as much as possible as “other”? It seems that some try to do something similar with Breivik.
It’s understandable, and yet, the drawback is that the normalcy of it may be overlooked. Their actions makes a great deal of sense from within their worldview. It’s quite logical, as it is for most of us. And both of them mirror each of us. When I turn around each of my beliefs about them, I’ll find examples of how I do the same. (Of course expressed, on the surface, in a different form.)
I had a phase where I felt especially open to the energies of others. I could pick up their discomfort, inner struggle, war with themselves. It seems that this is quite common early on in an awakening or opening process. I still occasionally notice this in my life, and I also know it’s just a story.
What’s really going on here?
As with anything else in the world – people, fairy tales, dreams, aliens, God, the universe, reality – these people are perfect mirrors for me.
I may have beliefs about them:
They are crude, unconscious, unaware.
They have inner conflict, they are at war with themselves.
They are disturbing me. They are disturbing my peace. It’s my peace. It’s a problem for me. It hinders my life. I am a victim of their confusion.
And I can inquire into these stories to find what’s more true for me. (I may find that the discomfort I experience is from my beliefs about them and the situation, and the resistance these beliefs create, and not from them or the situation.)
These people also mirror perfectly what’s here.
(a) The images and stories I have about them are my images of stories. They are right here. They are created by me.
(b) These people mirror my own discomfort, tension and unease, my own struggle and war with myself. They mirror my own tension and struggle as I go into my beliefs about them, and my own tension and struggle in other situations in life.
(c) It’s all happening within my world of awareness, within and as awareness itself – as any sensation, sight, taste, smell, sound and any image and story. Even the story of a person out there and a me here happens within and as awareness. There is an image of a person out there, a me here, struggle in the other person, an impact on me, an I observing it all, and identification or not with these stories, and this all happens within this world of awareness.
For the record, what Pitts endorses is the “unidentified” aspect of an unidentified flying object. “I have never seen a UFO myself,” he says, “and I am not saying that UFOs are ET spacecraft. I am saying [that] here, there is some mystery, and we should be able to address it scientifically, without all the stigma involved.”
– Astronomer Derrick Pitts quoted in ET, Phone Derrick Pitts
As most boys, I was quite interested in UFOs and was even a member of the UFO organization in Norway. In my teens, the interest shifted into exploring UFOs as projection objects (especially after I found Jung’s book on the topic), and later on, I have occasionally read up on what’s happening in the field.
UFOs are interesting to me for a few different reasons:
Some appear to be natural phenomena not very well understood by science, or entirely unknown to science. The Hessdalen lights in Norway may be one example.
They are excellent projection objects – unknown, rare, ephemeral, mysterious. They are great for putting our fears and hopes on and create beliefs around. (They will save us, they will eat us, I will dismiss it and don’t take it seriously.) This in itself is a very interesting phenomenon, and well worth exploring.
Some – a few – may be crafts of nonterresital origin. The universe may be populated by many different civilizations, and although the chances of any one actually visiting us may be miniscule considering the huge distances and enormous space, it could happen. After all, our modern scientific exploration of physics is very young, what we don’t know will always be infinitely more than what we do know, and what we have discovered so far, through for instance quantum physics, shows us that reality seems much stranger than what we could have imagined. It’s worth keeping an open mind, take the possibility of visits seriously, and do some serious investigation.
And then there is the military and national security reasons. Independent of origin, some may be crafts. This is one reason most or all governments take UFOs seriously, whether or not they admit to it.
The rational approach is to take and investigate the more well documented reports seriously.
UFOs clearly exist. People see unidentified flying objects all the time. The question is, what is it in each case? The answers may range from the mundane to little known natural phenomena, and may also include possible ET visits. I don’t think I would be surprised either way. If we are visited, the implications are significant. And if there eventually is contact – in the open and at a large scale – then it’s the beginning of a new phase of human civilization.
Here is a good interview of author Leslie Kean by Michio Kaku.
The wheel of life depicts a range of human states and experiences. All of it can have an overlay of stories and interpretations, and these can be recognized as stories and images or taken as true.
And as with any cosmology or any map, model or image – it reflects what’s here now. It reflects what’s here, whether a story says it’s “over there” in another person or in the past or future, or it’s noticed as happening here.
There is a beauty in all this that comes and goes. Experiences, states, images of me and I, identifications – it all comes and goes. I can ask myself what is it that doesn’t come and go?
The two most obvious ways of using levels and types:
They can be used in the conventional way, where a person is located within a certain level or as a certain type. This can be helpful to some extent, although there are also obvious limitations. People will be at different levels, and appear as different types, at different times and in different contexts. For instance, different areas of life and different relationships may evoke behaviors and experiences that fits into different levels and types. And characteristics of several levels and types may be present at any one time.
Another, often complementary way, is to use levels and types as pointers. For each level, and each type, where do I find what’s described in my own life? What’s some examples of where my behavior and experience fit? (Make a list.)
In the more conventional approach, the levels and types will tend to fit my conscious view of myself and my conscious identity. In the second approach, it may be helpful to spend more time on the levels and types that appears to not as well match my conscious view of myself. (Revealing shadow or blind spots). What’s another specific and concrete example from my life? And another?
When I imagine a belief in someone else, I often take it to inquiry for myself. After all, if I can imagine it in someone else, it’s because it’s right here.
A story comes to mind, including the thought that it’s taken as true and the experience of it being taken as true. All that is happening here. I can add a story saying it’s happening over there, or happening, here, and that doesn’t really change that it’s all happening here.
In some ways, it can be really helpful to do inquiry on stories I imagine in others. It can help me access beliefs I otherwise may – for a while at least – ignore or dismiss.
I find I don’t use the word projections much anymore.
It’s obviously useful since it’s a well known term. It refers to imagining something that’s here – in me, out there in the wider world.
And as with so many terms, it makes less sense the closer I look at it and the more I get familiar with it.
It’s really all happening within my images of the world.
There is an image of a me here and a wider world out there. A story of qualities or something else. An image of these qualities out there in the world and not (so much) in here. An image of space it all happens within. An image of a timeline with past, present and future. An image of an I as an observer or doer.
And it’s all happening within and as my world of images. It’s all happening right here.
It’s common in some circles to say that “it” cannot be escaped or fixed, whatever your perceived problem is.
That’s not quite true, of course.
I can escape an experience by preventing it or distracting myself from it. It may still be there in my mind (when I prevent it) or in the background of experience (when I distract myself) but it’s much less noticeable.
And I can “fix” a situation in different ways. I can even “fix” an experience through any number of medicines, such as asking myself can I be with it?, bringing attention to my breath, exploring it through the sense fields, finding a stress-creating belief and inquire into it, and so on.
Whatever happens – sounds, sights, sensations, smell, taste, thought – already happens within and as awareness. Awareness is already present everywhere in this field of experience. Attention may go different places, including lost in thought, and that too happens within and as awareness.
I have been drawn to war movies (Band of Brothers, The Pacific) over the last couple of weeks, and mentioned it to a friend. They are sobering, helps me contact that quiet undercurrent of dread I have experienced lately, and helps me put things in perspective. She suggested it could have to do with past lives and I said perhaps, and was also a little puzzled. How would it be useful to think it had to do with past lives?
Of course, it can be helpful to play with ideas of past lives – through active imagination, dreams, regression therapy, apparent memories or any other way. It helps me unfold and notice what’s here.
Whatever ideas I have of awakening, can I notice they are images – reflecting what’s already here now, alive in awareness?
What are my ideas of awakening? What images of awakening do I put “out there” in the past, on others, in the future? What do I hope it will fix in my life?
It is better to awaken. I need to awaken. Awakening will take care of my problems. Awakening will give a deep sense of rightness. Awakening will fill a hole in me. Awakening will be an exiting adventure. Awakening will facilitate my development. It is possible to awaken. It is possible to not awaken. It is possible to be awake. It is possible to not be awake.
Some of these feels more true for me, such as a few of the last ones. Others don’t feel as true, but they are still good to explore further – also because they are common in our culture.
(a) The stories I have about the wider world, equally apply to me. Whatever qualities, characteristics and dynamics I see out there, in others and the wider world, are right here. I can find specific examples of this to ground it and make it more real for myself, and I can always find one more. Whatever story I have about someone else or the wider world, apply to me, and not only at times in the past, but right now in how I relate to the ones I have this story about.
Towards the end of his life, Norwegian philosopher Arne Næss had a toy piglet. It is perhaps a little odd for a grown and respected man to have a stuffed toy.
What is even more odd is that he and his wife treated it as a child, and wrote a book about him.
It is easy to dismiss it as the folly of an old man. But is that all?
Playfulness was always central in his life, and his playfulness in relating to his piglet is a teaching in itself. It is an invitation for us all to find more playfulness in life, including in how we use our imagination.
And there is also wisdom here.
When we interact with others, we usually assume we interact based on who they are. But we are really interacting with them based on who we imagine they are. When Arne Næss treated his piglet as a living being, it becomes clear that he is really interacting with his imagined piglet. This is an invitation for us to take a closer look at this in our own life.
A quick look at the entertainment world – books, movies, songs, fairy tales, mythology – tells us that we are fascinated with the unpleasant.
Why is that? I can find several reasons for why I am drawn to it….
The most obvious is that these things (death, pain, cruelty etc.) are part of human life, and this is a way for me to get familiar with it in a safe way. I get to explore it without putting myself at risk. And I get to prepare for it should it happen to me or someone close to me. If or when something like it happens in real life, I am somewhat prepared.
The cookie settings on this website are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. If you continue to use this website without changing your cookie settings or you click "Accept" below then you are consenting to this.