Meditations | 07-26
The thing about ambiguity is that it begs for projection. Ambiguity is not a mirror but a screen that passively accepts what is broadcast onto it without making you aware that it's really you you're watching.
Ambiguity is a little uncomfortable, a little distorted, a little uncanny. It reveals things that hit home, but that you aren't consciously aware of. It speaks -- not to you -- but over your shoulder, breath on the back of your neck. It doesn't aim to be disconcerting: it doesn't aim to be anything. But the result of unconscious fears, desires, beliefs being projected onto an unexpected surface in unexpected ways is just that.
Sometimes the urge is to resist the discomfort. Sometimes, the urge is to rationalize it. If we can make it make sense, force the ambiguous thing to fit into the schema of the world that we've created through our life, then we can alleviate the discomfort. In this way, other people become symbols when we don't know them well. Sometimes we idolize, fantasize, make someone everything we want them to be, and set them up on a pedestal of all of our strange expectations. Sometimes we denigrate, hate, dismiss, or even attack them, make them the very symbol of all we fear and despise.
We could learn so very much about ourselves if we could lean into these projections: if we could be aware of this unconscious behavior as we engage in it. If we could recognize the ambiguity of a person or a thing, and then walk ourselves through the way that we're projecting onto that screen, dissect the resulting images, and try to figure out where they come from, there is space for a significant amount of growth. Beyond that, when we do this with people, we do ourselves and them a massive disservice. Either we force expectations on others and suffer when they do not live up to them, experience severe envy when we assume someone is all that we desire but all that we are not, or we dismiss and despise those who may very well be allies despite that they have not actually wronged us.