I will try not to drown in the deep seas of the unconscious mind which I wish to explore. — Jack Cummins
You can't drown in "the deep seas of the unconscious mind" because YOU
are the deep sea. This isn't Freud. My theory is that "I" exist in the unconscious. Not Freud's SUBconscious sea of unutterable wishes, but my sea of enormous back-office operations where I exist outside the view of my front-office public relations staff, spies (observed sensory input), and all the public stuff. The front office (consciousness) isn't writing this. The public relations people are watching this as it goes up on the screen. The big Composition Group in the back office is putting the ideas together and sending it out to a transmission desk where fingers are instructed to hit the right keys.
I live in the unconscious, but I can't consciously observe my unconscious self because I am not exterior to it. I am in it, the interior. What goes on here can't be observed by the front office - conscious mind. The front office gets its marching orders from back here, not the other way around.
In my humble (maybe quite mistaken) opinion, we (front office consciousness) give ourselves too much credit. We tend to think we are in charge. We have a little control, but it's the back office that does the heavy lifting, major decision making, decides on priorities (like ending up at our favorite pub even though we said we would be home at 21:00. The back office decides how much risk to take, or not, often before the front office even knows it will soon be doing something it didn't plan on.
How can you tell whether what you are reading or hearing me say is coming from the unconscious or the conscious mind? You can't. The flow of instructions from the massive unconscious back office to the small conscious front office is seamless. What you see and hear is coming from the real me (the real person).
That's my theory, none of which should suggest that we can't drive ourselves crazy. There have been some pretty ugly conflicts in my back office which disrupted business for years on end. I just couldn't quite get my several idealist / realist / dreamy / pragmatist political parties to cooperate. So I was often working at cross purposes with myself.
Peace has reigned between my ears now for... maybe 8 years. Age and circumstances I wasn't in charge of brought me to retirement and living happily alone again. If I could take "where I am now" back to the time I was 30, say, "I could have been somebody -- I could have been a contender" (as Marlon Brando said in
On the Waterfront 1954). Oh well...
So, ONE OF THE TASKS OF PSYCHOTHERAPY OR SELF-ANALYSIS is to learn how our minds actually are working--especially if they don't seem to be working all that well.
Happy, fully functioning, highly productive, sophisticated people can, I suppose, get along just fine without thinking about how their fucking splendid brains work. Most of us, though, find there are problems upstairs that have to be dealt with.
So question,
@Jack Cummins: Why couldn't I figure all this out when I was 30?