Voyaging Into The Unconscious

Simply put, the unconscious mind is everything that has yet to permeate the field of consciousness. It is unawareness that has the power to dictate your behavior. It is the storage facility for thoughts, feelings, dreams, fantasies, beliefs, and archaic symbols that stimulate cultural recognition that you consistently approach beyond your awareness. 

For many, the unconscious is such a frightening concept that it is avoided altogether. "Why explore what lies beneath," you may ask. Knowing more about your self can evoke many fears as the unconscious contains individual and collective truths that you either cannot yet articulate or outright ignore due to the psychological stress that it produces.

On the other hand, there are those who explore the unconscious so profoundly that they end up in a perpetual state of distress. They refuse to integrate confrontations with the unconscious into consciousness and continue to spiral in the raw abyss of one's most primitive psychological functioning. 

Metaphorically speaking, it is like going down the steps of a dark and spine-tingling cellar and then refusing to walk back up those steps despite the location's discomfort. At one point in his studies, famed Swiss psychologist Carl Jung found parallels between his exploration of the unconscious to Dante Alighieri's epic poem, 'The Inferno.'

For those who are just remembering or perhaps unfamiliar, the nine circles of hell in 'The Inferno,' in descending order, are as follows: limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, wrath, heresy, violence, fraud, and treachery. Lastly, at the very center of hell is Satan himself. 

While the imagery utilized in this text is inherently and stereotypically Christian, Jung believed that Alighieri was hitting on something deeper, more profound, more universal. After all, the sins that Dante lists can be found in practically any foundational religious text. Please, do not see this article as a plea to move toward any particular organized religion; instead, see it as a unification of past and present and a testament to the human condition. 

It does not take much to notice that our species, homo sapiens, are capable of great atrocities as well as tremendous benevolent achievements. The purpose of exploring the unconscious mind is not to impose any grand suffering (albeit it can often be painful), but instead to understand one's psychological processes for the benefit of progress toward your understanding of yourself with the intention of being able to help others. Buddhists refer to this practice as spiritual enlightenment.

Now, back to the cellar analogy. I use this example because I can specifically remember, as a child, being in my grandparents' home and the fear that was evoked in me whenever I voyaged into their basement. Each of my steps taken down into the darkness represented an intensifying horror of what I was imagining lurking in the black space, with my limited visibility, while simultaneously building a sense of courage and confidence as I realized that not only was I confronting my fears but I was also capable of turning around and scurrying back up the steps at any moment in time. 

If you choose never to explore the cellar, then the monsters that your mind creates become increasingly enormous and more terrifying each passing moment, banging loudly on the walls and the door, begging to be released, noticeable to those with whom you surround yourself. The depths of the mind contain a multitude of provocations and truths that it would be irresponsible to ignore. 

Suppose you choose to live in the cellar and never return to the light of day. In that case, you become the beast because you internalize the cellar's ugliness without ever awarding yourself the opportunity to incorporate your learnings into consciousness. Too much, too quickly, can be overwhelming—my advice: tread lightly.