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welcome the alien
september 18, 2011

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I need to distinguish psychoanalytic interest (which is individuationally therapeutic) and my psychalanalytic interest (which is inquirial, but not standardly psychological—psychaliterary might be better). But I’m going to let the need stand for awhile. I’ll just say: I’m writing to an innerdirected sensibility, going toward an academic degree of that. Writing to an innerdirected sensibility might feel alien to an outer-directed sensibility (e.g., a very sociocentric person), just as writing academically is easily alienating to many persons.

My alienness results at least from writing freely prior to re-processing things into a stepwise curriculum or well-formed discursive presentation. I’m sharing backstage points, trekking toward interpersonally-apt presentation. (“See Gary in his developmental pretense of our evolving.”) But the alienness may also result from the pervasive (“normal”) nonconsciousness (and unconsciousness) of our outer-directed, sociocentric, tangible lives, which depend on a relatively shallow common ground that is widely pertinent to acquaintial dailiness, like marathon running is alien to the infrequent jogger.

For so much of life, innerdirectedness of mind is minimized (left largely unarticulated) over the years (childhood onward)—we don’t talk with each other “deeply,” then deeply. So, much of discernible psychal life (an aesthetic education, a psychological sophistication) implicitly remains (or, in reflection, explicitly becomes) a confusion of emotion, value, and belief (i.e., emotional value, value-led belief, belief-dependent emotion). It’s the norm: economic organization of social time keeping things functioning, because we usually can’t do more than marginally thrive (beyond covering basic expenses of time). There’s a politics of time that’s profoundly elusive, and the political economy of it all colonizes lived time manifoldly.

Memory and imagination may remain/become anxiously confused (rather than fruitfully enhancing each other). Occasions for self reflection may easily evoke anger.

So, innerdirected writing may be uncomfortable to read (or is kept confined to special occasions), as its individuality may be indistinguishable from trivial (because so “marginal,” alien) idiosyncrasy or subjectivist eccentricity—in any case, impertinent to “real” life.

So be it. I know the validity of where I’ve been, but I’m not going to bother warranting myself presently in bringing you along—or striving so—going back home in order to move beyond. What there is to warrant to you—the excursions themselves as you find me—come first, for that’s what, to your way, would call for warranting.

Warranting’s best done relative to you or “you” (i.e., concerns of particular individuals, readers, companions).

Let’s begin a conversation. I’m easy to reach.


That’s part 3 of “elations of solitude.” Here’s part 4.

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