Something that I often think about is what I think about. For whatever reason, at certain moments in time, the course of my life has brought me to instances where I find myself pondering man’s deepest questions and then ranging to its most trivial follies – sometimes both within seconds. I could be contemplating a matter as profound as what is love and then all of a sudden wonder what ever happened to Chris Kattan. This type of seamless transition is the result of some obscure connection that I happen to find between two seemingly distant items yet my experiences over the past twenty-one years have found ways to make them go hand-in-hand. While my example may not be as abstract as we complex beings are capable of (and if you don’t get the joke, ask me later), our behavioral triggers beg the questions of why we as individuals react to certain things in certain ways, especially since, as human history has shown, they are not universal.
I’m not sure if there has ever been a consensus where exactly the line is between the conscious and the subconscious divide, nor do I doubt that it will ever be reached, but I will attempt to present my thoughts on it. While the former’s general definition is pretty straightforward (an awareness of your surroundings, self, etc.), the latter is a bit harder to pinpoint primarily because, in theory and by definition, we don’t fully realize what it is. We need to look no further than the very etymology of the word to describe this link – or lack thereof – between something so tangible and something else so intangible; the sub- delineates that it is something below, or rather beyond, our capabilities of consciousness.
So who am I – some kid who couldn’t even really tell you what year I am in school – to suddenly come to these realizations that has eluded philosophers, psychologists, and neuroscientists for millennia? By evaluating my credentials and aptitude to tackle such an subject plays perfectly into what I’m trying to express: our personal subconscious is most elusive to ourselves because it is the very framework of how we perceive the world through our life’s experiences. For example, questioning and discussing a topic such as this is viewed as ordinary to me. “Why wouldn’t one examine this type of matter,” I ask myself. Well, I do that because I see this “type of matter” as a standard food for thought that would be commonplace for anyone to consume due to the way in which I was raised and the unique opportunities it presented me with. In fact, what I deem as a “unique opportunity” would even be subjective to my experiences. Meanwhile others, perhaps yourself included, might sit in front of your computer screen, speculating what must have gone wrong in my life to waste my time on this kind of thing. There are bigger, better, and more important issues such as the economy, family, politics, sports, or when the next season of Jersey Shore starts that people should be spending their waking moments on. Or at least that’s what you think based on the results of your past.
The subconscious is what we prescribe meaning to without recognizing that we are doing so. In some ways, we are not even really recognizing it since we may have not done it before – when it is brought to our attention for the first time, we are, in fact, cognizing it. Recently, I had a strong difference of opinions with someone after, what I felt, a very bold statement was expressed. To this individual though, there was nothing that was the least bit controversial with what had been said. Our varying realities of what we each considered normal was the consequence of our distinct backgrounds. I saw the issue from one standpoint that affected me on an emotional level, while the opposite point of view struggled to grasp my sensitivity towards it. For this person, the subconscious “truth” on this matter was so rooted in their perception of “truth” and therefore carried such meaning that it, almost incongruously, carried no meaning because it was believed to be a basic fact. In the meantime, my reaction is prompted by my notion of an indisputable “truth” that is defied in just a mere statement. I prefer to think that what we say is deeper than a simple utterance of thought. It is a testament to our past and the values that we have developed over that process where a certain moment inspired us to express ourselves in that manner. Maybe that’s overly semiotic of me, but I can only hope that our lives are filled with such meaning and purpose that everything that we do is a reflection of who we are.
Going back to my situation, was either of us wrong or right? Political correctness aside (which is another example of conscious and subconscious, by the way), within our concepts of morals and ethics, chances are that both our responses would contradict each others. While these types of debates always seem to end with something along the lines of “I get where you’re coming from,” I’m not sure we fully do. We may comprehend their argument on a structural level, but we are in no way aware of the earlier happenings that formed this stance. While we may be conscious of our opinions, where that opinion comes from is what lies in the subconscious. It comes to be through a series of events and experiences that reinforce a belief that affects how we see the world; as English author Fay Weldon wrote, “Only one thing registers on the subconscious mind: repetitive application – practice. What you practice is what you manifest.” We often times don’t realize what we stand for or who we are until someone challenges us with an alternative that breaks that routine because we believe that there is only that one option, and even then we may not initially acknowledge it.
Does this mean that our subconscious perspective is the victim of our past? Yes and, in a way, no. It is in that we can only observe the world in what we already know – and that’s why when we encounter something that we don’t, we have trouble understanding it. In fact, we often try to associate it with something that we’re familiar with to compare it to. When anthropologists study a culture, in order to articulate their thoughts and impressions, they make judgments and observations based on their own culture. In one of my classes this semester, we videoconferenced with a Mexican student from a university in her country. She was so jealous that we were fortunate enough to attend school in Minnesota. We were confused. For locals, it was just where they were from. For me, it was just the unglamorous Minneapolis-St. Paul metropolitan area combined with frigid torment. To her though, it was the birthplace of Bob Dylan, a winter wonderland, and everything associated with the American college experience rolled into one. Our deviating portraits of this state exemplified how one person’s home is someone else’s exotic location.
The reason why our subconscious isn’t forever stuck in the ways of our past is because, fortunately, our past constantly extends itself with each new day and allows for a new experience to shape, and sometimes even transform, who we are. Imagine if you had been born and raised in one of these medieval fortress-cities with mammoth walls and an impenetrable gate and you had never seen anything beyond your trapped population. Your assessment of life and reality would be centered around everything you knew within your city – as far as you know, there is nothing else past those walls and, if there is, it’s probably the exact same since you can’t conceive of anything else. Suddenly though, someone with completely foreign and unknown ideas and values than your populations manages to sneak in. Whatever differences lies between you and this new person, you cannot help but rethink what you already knew, even though you had spent an entire lifetime under one impression. It’s very similar to Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” sans the smugness that I’m all-knowing and chastised for my freethinking. Anyways, sometimes these challenges strengthen your position, other times they change them, whether it be slightly or dramatically. If you look at spirituality and religion, these types of situations have turned atheists into believers, and vice versa, after life altering moments, or just reinforced their previously held beliefs. I share this scenario because it displays how your subconscious outlook can be adjusted if the opportunities present themselves since it is the product of your various life experiences. “Not me though, Andrew,” some of you might say, “I’m already open-minded so I don’t really get how this applies.” It is those that claim to be open-minded that are often the most narrow-minded; they have subconsciously acknowledged that they have already reached the limits of understanding and don’t allow room for growth.
So what’s the point of this? Why take precious time out my summer to write this discourse and expect you to read the entire thing? I could be somewhat irritating and leave you with some sort of thought-provoking ending that basically says “You figure what it means to you” in a worldly tone and then disappear into the mystic. I lack both the scholarly standing and supernatural ability to do justifiably go through with such a conclusion. What my aim is goes back to the very definitions of these two words: conscious and subconscious. If we are going to stick with that the conscious is your awareness, I’m asking you to just be more aware of your awareness. Are you driven by logic or emotion? Perhaps you’re constrained by them. What makes one relationship more meaningful than another? Why does one instance matter to you more than the other? Conduct a self-examination of who you are – not just after reading this, but constantly. Extend it to others, and then realize what from your perspective of “normal” are you applying to your evaluation of them. Realize that where you stand, both physically and in your values, is perhaps just the happenstance of a series of decisions, actions, and interactions and take in which one of those have molded you into the person that you are, have been, and will be.
This wouldn’t be a proper psychoanalytical paper if I didn’t quote Freud, so here it goes: “The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.” Well put, Sigmund – he’s managed to articulate what I’ve tried to express in nearly 2,000 words into one sentence. Like I mentioned earlier, I know these thoughts aren’t original or novel and that minds much more brilliant than mine have disserted on this for much longer than I have and ever will. Evidently, their works have inspired and influenced me to consider this type of approach to thinking and even, to take it one step further, humanity. I guess I’m just hoping that, by reading this, I’ve done the same for you, whether you consciously realize it or not.
