Maybe if Freud hadn’t tried to establish concepts as irrefutable laws, his views wouldn’t have been so resoundingly rejected. Perhaps guidelines would have been a better idea. There are certainly some zany ideas in there, but sometimes what he described falls very close to – and bears the marks of – truth. How unfortunate for us all if we are ever unconscious of our unconsciousness…
The difficulty, actually, lies in the inability to discern, comprehend and internalise the opposite viewpoint to an unequivocal conviction bearing no apparent rational justification. Basically, you don’t know why it is; it just is.
Perhaps (now thinking aloud) it has to do with repression. What if you don’t like the justification – or maybe your unconscious doesn’t like it, and preemptively blinds you to the elusive crux? It seems, then, that it would be quite dangerous (devastating?) to realise the truth. Or could it be that certain aspects of the opposite are desired quite strongly, and therefore you suffer the effects of a cognitive bias, perhaps while neglecting to recall the severity of vividly bitter empirical evidence?
Still, the highest form of truth, as the product of obedience, brings freedom.
People seem to make a habit, perhaps unwittingly, of selectively hearing only what they want to hear. It frustrates me, because I’m the kind of person who endeavours to say exactly what he means, without subtext or innuendo. Some believe the explanation for this has to do with being “open” or “closed”, but to that I say bollocks. Being open in that context is little more than being totally and ridiculously vulnerable with every aspect of self. Hearts yet need to be guarded. Certain vital elements yet need to be treasured.
When someone who is close to you does this – hears what they want to hear, rather than what’s being said – it’s damaging. In some cases, irreparably so. And a damaged friendship cannot continue as it was. A part of you dies and experiences its own kind of grief, which evidences the deep connection longed for, having become newly impossible.
What was is truly gone, and yet the longing still pains.