RATIONALIZATION
Having now briefly sketched the birth and some of the possible
developments of Narcissism, it may be well to revert to the subject
of rationalization, on which I have already touched briefly, before I
deal with some of the methods with which we may combat our Narcissistic
tendencies. The reason for reverting here to rationalization is this.
Already I know that there are few readers who will not have discovered
some material in this book which will have touched a tender spot in
themselves. And since we know that the great effort of Narcissism is
to cover up those tender spots, and to deceive ourselves in thinking
that either they are not there, or better still, that they are virtues
and really particularly healthy spots, it is as well to examine these
tendencies and observe one of the chief methods by which we do produce
such disguises successfully. Of these methods of disguise, our greatest
comforter, yet our worst enemy, is rationalization. The term means
“_finding apparently adequate reasons for things_.”
One of the qualities which we highly cultured animals possess is that
of reason. We have discovered that logic is one of the essential
factors of law and order, and that the highest form of intellect
possesses reason in a large measure. Among our gods, the god of reason
and logic stands high, and our very Narcissism will not permit us to
do and accept things which are contrary to logical reasoning. For that
means in the first place, that they are contrary to what we have been
taught to revere highly as a good quality, and yet more still it means
that they are contrary to the magic of WORDS, for logic means words;
logic is words which follow one another in irrefutable sequence. And
we have already learnt that _the infant has early associated words and
sounds with magic, since by the persistent use of these he has got what
he wanted_. So that doubly are logic and reason revered.
Now, the unhappy thing about life is that we are continually wishing
to do things or feel things or believe things which do not follow
logically upon other things which we have also had to feel or think or
believe at some time. Some of our wishes are logically incompatible
with other of our wishes. More over, we very often do not wish to
believe or think things which do follow logically on actual facts which
have gone before. How are we then, as reasonable people, to deal with
the situation? By rationalization, by finding a reason which suits our
purpose; and this can only be done, as a rule, by leaving out some
important factor, by ignoring some truth, and by arguing from false
premises. We do not do this consciously, that would be unworthy. Our
unconscious censor manages to delete from consciousness the unpleasant
truth, as we have already pointed out, and brings forth an array of
facts which appear irrefutable, and he succeeds in giving us most
plausible reasons so that we may believe that which is most convenient
to us.
Let us consider for a moment such a subject as religion. The Roman
Catholic will adduce evidences of various kinds to show that his is
the only right and proper form of religion to be accepted by any
intellectual person. The Baptist will likewise do the same, and will
probably hold that Papal institutions, in many instances, spring not
from Heaven but from Hell. If you discuss it with either of them, you
may be flooded with reasons, logical evidences of the correctness of
their views. Obviously, they cannot both be right in so exclusive a
manner, and a very little insight will show that the reasons they
adduce have really very little to do with their beliefs, although they
think they have. Reverence for their parents, early environment, and
other factors of this kind, have really induced their present beliefs,
but these would not appear to them as logical reasons and so they
select others.
So it is with any unpleasant theory which comes into being. At the
time of Darwin, a large number of facts were discovered which led
unbiassed persons to believe in the theory of evolution. This appeared
contrary to many religious beliefs, and the general public did not
want to accept such a theory. They could not, however, shut their
eyes to facts; what were they to do? By carefully leaving out some of
the facts, and introducing speculative material, which they called
facts, but which were not facts, they succeeded in producing excellent
reasons, or what seemed excellent reasons to them, for refuting the
theory of evolution and retaining their old beliefs. In other words,
they went through a process of rationalization.
The same thing was taking place a few years ago with reference to
psycho-analysis. People did not like their omnipotent feelings
disturbed, did not like to find that the superior bricks of which
their edifice had been built were originally made from clay, and they
found excellent reasons for not believing it. This, fortunately for
progress, is gradually passing away, just as the opposition to the idea
of the evolution of the body passed away. But rationalization is a
process which has been and is still going on continuously. When Harvey
discovered the circulation of the blood, when Galileo discovered that
the earth went round the sun, when psycho-analysts discovered that
much which mothers thought kind was really cruel, and when you read a
book which tends to point out that some of your cherished virtues may
possibly be faults, the same tendency is at work. Your mind sorts out
some of the reasons, refuses to look at others of them, and by such
careful selection, by this unconscious process of rationalization,
supports your belief in yourself, holds fast to that which has been,
and attempts continuously to prevent further changes and disturbances.
This rationalization, however, is much more widely distributed than
I have so far indicated; in order that one fact may be justified by
reason, all the lesser facts which come before it must be similarly
justified, until even into the trivial details of everyday life the
leaven of rationalization has penetrated. Examples of it may be seen
every day in the newspapers, in politics, in even trifling arguments.
Take for instance the subject of woman’s suffrage. One half of the
country produced irrefutable arguments to prove how bad it was, the
other half to prove how good it was. In both cases, the arguments were
but straws in the wind, they were quite unnecessary, they were only
rationalization. Long before the argument on either side came into
being, the feelings were there, the desires were there; and desires
must somehow be proved right with the magic of words, before we feel at
liberty to fulfil them. In neither case in this argument was the root
of the matter touched. If some philosopher had come forward and said,
“The first question we have to ask before thinking about suffrage,
is should a woman wear a skirt?” or some such similar fundamental
question, it would probably have been said that it had nothing to
do with matter, and yet this question of _artificial_ difference
between the sexes is really fundamental to the whole subject. But the
rationalist will find that he will not meet me in this statement. The
woman who wishes to retain certain privileges, and yet accept certain
other privileges, will at once find reasons why she should wear a skirt
and yet have the vote. She will tell me all sorts of things about her
physical disabilities, things which she believes to be fundamental
truths, many of which, in fact, are fundamentally wrong, but accepted
as truths because they lead to rationalization being able to support
her wishes.
In a similar way, on the much discussed subject of “prohibition” the
prohibitionist will rationalise on a certain few facts, in order to
support his emotions and desires. A moderate drinker will do exactly
the same, in the opposite direction. Neither of them will have the
courage to ignore his personal feelings, nor may he have the power
to do so, and to take all the facts into consideration and come to a
conclusion, irrespective of his wishes on the subject.[7]
Of course, one of the other difficulties in the way of coming to
correct conclusions in all these things is that people will insist on
arguing upon subjects, when the amount of real scientific knowledge
they have on the subjects is extremely small. The newspaper editor will
quote a few popular facts, in order to support some theory of his own,
having but a limited knowledge of psychology, physiology, anatomy, or
of some other science which has considerable bearing on the subject,
he will end by producing a series of conclusions probably entirely
wrong. This, of course, is inevitable in our limited circumstances;
but it should not be equally inevitable that we should hold firmly
to our beliefs, when we realise how limited is our knowledge of
any one subject. And in order to examine facts and to get rid of
rationalization as far as possible, we must try, with the utmost power
at our command to refuse that reaction of self-defence and self-pride,
which prevents us from looking at ourselves and from realising that
most of our opinions about ourselves may be completely erroneous. We
must be prepared to accept temporary, not fixed, judgments, based
upon the evidence which we have. We must be prepared to reverse those
judgments in the light of new evidence. We must be careful not to
reject this evidence merely because we do not like it.
It will now be seen how very necessary it is, in dealing with
Narcissism in particular, to understand something of rationalization,
so that we may be on our guard in examining ourselves, against
allowing this to play too great a part in our conclusions. Otherwise,
with all the goodwill in the world, we may never succeed in making
any improvement whatsoever, in ourselves. The greatest scientists
themselves have been amongst those who realised this.
It was Darwin who wrote, as we have quoted in the earlier part of this
book, “I had, during many years, followed a golden rule, namely, that
whenever a published fact, a new observation or thought came across
me, which was opposed to my general results, to make a memorandum of
it without fail and at once, for I had found by experience that such
facts and thoughts were far more apt to escape from the memory than
favourable ones.”
And it was the great scientist, Helmholtz, who said, “It is better to
be in actual doubt, than to rock oneself in dogmatic ignorance.”
FOOTNOTE:
[7] Of course this does not imply that no one is ever capable of
putting his conscious feelings on one side, and examining a subject
in spite of pre-conceived ideas and desires, but that this is the
exception rather than the rule.
PART II
PRACTICAL APPLICATIONS
CHAPTER X
SELF ANALYSIS
In attempting to cure ourselves of hyper-Narcissistic characteristics,
there are several lines of treatment which may be followed, some of
which depend upon the particular manifestation of Narcissism with
which we have to deal. One, however, which should be followed in
every case, we borrow from the methods of psycho-analysis. We cannot
call it psycho-analysis because the technique employed by an amateur
in examining himself must be vastly different from the technique
employed by a psycho-analyst in dealing with his patient. But it is a
modification of one detail of the technique of psycho-analysis which,
if properly applied, may have far-reaching results. It is on the lines
of that phenomenon which is known generally as ab-reaction, and is as
follows.
When an individual has come to the conclusion that he is suffering from
some characteristic of Narcissistic nature, which he would rather
be without, he should, first of all, carefully call to mind, and if
possible make historical notes of the situations which stimulate the
particular temperamental reaction to which he objects. If he can, he
should go further than this, and recall as many as possible of the
actual situations of recent date, when this particular reaction has
been called forth.
If he have an ungovernable temper, for example, he should, in detail,
go first into the type of situations which call forth that temper, and
secondly, he should revise in detail the recent occasions upon which he
has lost his temper, and thirdly, _he should attempt to find out the
particular moment, the particular words, the particular occasion which
first began to stir feelings of temper within him before he actually
began to show violent manifestations of it_.
Having all these things set forth satisfactorily, it would be well
if he spent half-an-hour every day, for a considerable period, in
performing the next part of the treatment. He should go into a room
by himself, where he will not be disturbed, recline on a couch or
a comfortable chair, and allow his mind to drift backwards, year by
year, remembering as far as possible, every instance on which the
unfavourable symptom has been called forth. He will find that if he
does not concentrate too hard, but merely keeps in mind the various
causes of his temper and recent manifestations of it, other times
and instances will come into his mind unbidden. He will, in fact, be
surprised at the amount of detail which he can remember concerning
the matter. Things which he had not thought of for years, happenings
which he had passed over as trivial, will come into his mind, and be
found to have stimulated, in some way or the other, the ill-temper (or
other Narcissistic trouble) which he is endeavouring to get rid of. He
must take himself, as far as possible, right into childhood. He will
not necessarily of course, go back as far as this on the first few
occasions, but after he has been at work on himself in this way for
some days, he should have no trouble whatever in beginning to recall
some of the infantile occasions upon which his Narcissism called forth
temper.
In all the instances which he brings up into his conscious mind, he
should write down and study not only the facts remembered, but also the
emotions which he felt. These he should examine from every possible
point of view, and see what Narcissistic element appears to be present
in them. Many memories will come into his mind of an infantile nature
which do not express the particular symptom from which he now suffers,
but will obviously have some bearing on it. These he should examine in
the same way, because it is important for him to get into his conscious
mind as much as possible of the various occasions in his life on which
Narcissism acted, when he was not conscious of it. Not only must he
see how these various occasions were exhibitions of Narcissism, but he
must try and trace them back, and must compare them with his typical
infantile methods of expression. These may be represented by shouting,
crying, stamping, weeping or any other infantile manifestations
of those omnipotent phantasies which now seem to him to be the
starting-point of his more recent expression of them. He has, in fact,
to lay bare before himself, as much as possible of his previously
unconscious Narcissistic life; its beginnings, its evolution, and its
ultimate form. This making conscious of what was previously unconscious
or but partly conscious, is, in itself, a most potent factor in
improvement, if he will have the patience to steadily persevere and to
go over daily, for a considerable period, the material he has brought
to the surface. If he does not do this regularly, it is liable to sink
back, and become once again an unconscious factor and a determinant to
his actions over which he has no control.
This bringing into consciousness the unconscious causes and motives
under-lying behaviour is, in psycho-analysis, one of the powerful
factors at work producing cures of neurotic obsessions and so forth,
and it is equally potent with the minor temperamental abnormalities
with which we are dealing here. For it means that previous mental
conflicts which were either wholly or partially unconscious, are now
rendered conscious habitually; and a conscious conflict, or rather a
conflict in which the forces at work become conscious, is far easier
to direct than one in which the very forces themselves are hidden and
unknown. Let us take a more material example for comparison. Suppose an
officer to be in command of a company of soldiers out in the desert,
and attacked on a dark night by savages. It might very well be that he
was well armed, that his machine guns were efficient, but that he would
be quite overwhelmed because he could neither see the savages nor know
their numbers, their whereabouts nor their armaments. But supposing
that the War Office had thoughtfully equipped him with one or two good
search-lights, which he could direct upon the savages so that the
number of savages, their armaments, position, and so forth, could be
brought into his consciousness, he would be in a far better position,
for he could direct his machine-guns at the threatened points, instead
of being forced to fire them wildly and as likely as not miss his
targets altogether.
Exactly the same happens with these manifold feelings to which I
have just been referring. The more one can see of them, their
histories, their evolution, their beginnings, the more one holds them
in consciousness, the easier does the conflict between good and evil
become in the individual. Again, this method of self-help which I have
given here, differs considerably from that pursued in psycho-analysis,
in that it is following up only one unconscious factor, albeit, one
of the most important factors; but in psycho-analysis we follow up in
turn all the unconscious forces at work, great and small, and in any
temperamental abnormality there are certainly many more unconscious
factors than Narcissism concerned, although Narcissism may be the
predominant one. Thus, for instance, alcoholism, though always
possessing a Narcissistic element, frequently has other determinants
present of an exceptionally strong[8] nature. So that while an
analysis of Narcissism only, may be of the greatest value in some
cases, in others, where Narcissism does not occupy so great a field,
the other unconscious factors are too potent to allow much benefit to
accrue from a partial self-analysis of this kind.
In drug-taking, however, there is a slight difference from alcoholism,
for, as a rule, Narcissism is nearly always the essential factor. It
will be understood that Narcissism links itself to almost any other
characteristic, influencing it for the worse by fixing it more deeply,
and holding it back from becoming conscious more strongly than would
otherwise be the case.
The patient will find himself, during this self-examination, repeatedly
trying to excuse himself. He will find himself saying, “I remember on
such an such an occasion losing my temper, but on that occasion I was
perfectly justified.” Or in another instance, he may say, “I remember
weeping (or I remember being depressed or angry, or impatient), but
circumstances then existed which seem to me proper occasions for such a
manifestation to have taken place.”
Let me emphasise at the outset, that any such excuses will be
rationalizing; that he must say to himself, “Whether they appear normal
or abnormal, according to accepted standards, those occurrences most
certainly had their Narcissistic factor.” For it must be understood
that although there are many occasions when impatience or weeping may
be looked upon, conventionally, as normal occurrences, that is only
because everybody possesses certain imperfections due to Narcissism;
and if one is going to attempt to improve one’s temperament in this
way, every occasion must be examined without excuse or rationalization,
otherwise the individual who is thus at work upon himself will only
succeed in defeating himself to his own detriment, by putting up
a resistance to his cure or improvement. And, indeed, one of the
important factors in this work, just as in psycho-analysis itself, is
the factor which comes into play in overcoming these resistances of
seeing ourselves as we are, of seeing the evolution and beginnings of
our temperament as it really was.
This is bound to reveal in all of us without exception much that is
unpleasant, and that we would rather not see. Resistance to seeing such
material is inevitable, if the examination is sufficiently thorough. If
no resistance has to be overcome, the individual may be certain that he
is shirking the facts.
FOOTNOTE:
[8] Alcoholism is further complicated by the fact that a habit of
_physical_ craving is formed, which as a rule cannot be overcome
by mental treatment alone. This craving, fortunately, can now be
eradicated by medicinal means. Indeed, patients of mine have been cured
of all desire for alcohol in about one week as a rule. The patient
is then in somewhat the same condition as a man who has never tasted
alcohol, and he will have no craving for alcohol thereafter, unless he
deliberately drinks it again. Herein, however, we see the importance of
the psychic factor, for should the cured alcoholic begin again to take
alcohol, either because he thinks that he has attained self control
and can do so, or because he finds abstinence difficult on social
grounds, he will almost inevitably regress to his old condition of
uncontrolled desire, no matter how long has elapsed since he was cured
of it. _The same causes which originally led him to excess, viz., his
mental complexes, are still present and again produce similar results._
Of course, a very large proportion of those who have been cured by
medicinal treatment do not relapse, because they have sufficient common
sense not to experiment with themselves. In the other cases, however,
the only hope of a permanent cure consists in following up the physical
treatment with mental treatment, i.e., analysis.
On the other hand, in most cases of drug taking a medicinal cure is
generally sufficient, for there is no “social urge” to taking drugs as
there is in the case of alcohol, and once the craving has been cured,
the tendency to experiment again is the exception rather than the rule.
But even here it is found that any indulgence in the drug, however
slight, will again produce in the individual his old craving. _He has
found a previous path of narcissistic regression and will inevitably
follow it, for though the craving had been eradicated the complexes
remain._ There are many potential alcoholics and potential drug-takers
in the world, but they will never know it unless unfortunate chance
induces them to open that particular channel of regression.
CHAPTER XI
READJUSTMENT OF OBJECTIVES
In the last chapter we described a process of self-assistance of
the kind which should be applied by any person, to any Narcissistic
manifestation he may desire to improve. In the present chapter we are
going to deal with a method of treatment which is by no means necessary
in all cases, but is very necessary in a large proportion of them.
We must bear in mind that the Narcissist’s inability to realise
distinctly the difference between phantasy and fact will often lead
him to suppose possible that which is impossible in the ordinary
affairs of everyday life, and to ignore difficulties which may really
be insuperable, which stand in the way of his aims and projects. He
will thus be continually finding himself at a disadvantage, continually
failing, from apparently trivial reasons, to accomplish an end, and
as a result he may become depressed, nervous, worried, and subject
to that lassitude accompanied by headaches, which so frequently comes
to the Narcissist when he struggles unavailingly with the ordinary
aims and tasks of everyday life. Moreover, not only does he fail to
recognise the difficulties in the way of any particular task, but he
fails to recognise the fact that two projects which he has in his mind
may be incompatible with one another; or he fails to recognise that
great “_Time-factor_,” which I have mentioned before, and tries to
condense more work and more visible results into a given period than is
humanly possible.
This type of Narcissist is always considerably addicted to day-dreams,
with which, however, we shall deal in a further chapter. For the
present, we are going to restrict ourselves to the question of
arranging his aims and wishes on a sound and possible basis. In the
first place, let it be understood that although the method of treatment
so far carried out may have made clear to the patient the origin and
development of his phantasy thought and phantastic aims, there yet
remains the breaking of the habit, and this is rendered far more easy
if we attempt to substitute another habit of a different nature. Let
us further impress upon him the fact that a frequent examination of
his aims in a directive manner by the method about to be discussed is
in itself an exercise in directive thinking, helping to form a habit
opposed to a former habit of phantasy thinking. And, lastly, let it be
remembered that Narcissists are generally very averse from making real
personal sacrifices which have no glamour attached to them; that they
object to adapting themselves to reality which may be unpleasant, and
that by the method I am about to describe, they will have to deal in
trivial things, and the conscious adjustment which they will thus make
towards reality will gradually become habitual.
What we are attempting to do now is to substitute directive thought
and directive aims, aims possible of attainment, for phantasy thoughts
and impossible aims. Most people will find on self-examination that
their aims are by no means clearly defined; they have an object in
life, but it is vague in outline, and ill-defined; it is often only
a question of getting somehow through life, with enough food to eat,
and sufficient phantasy thought to keep them from boredom. This again,
is especially the case with some women, whose household duties require
but little directive thought, since they are daily repetitions of the
same thing. Dusting a room is a habit which becomes pleasanter if
accompanied by phantasy thinking; whereas, had that woman some definite
aim, apart from the habit of house-cleaning, it would be possible to
accompany the room-dusting with directive thought which revolved round
the aim in question, and this would very much add to the pleasure and
efficiency of the individual’s life. If a person, on self-examination,
finds that his aims are not clearly defined, or are in conflict with
one another, or, on the other hand, that his aims or thoughts are in
part phantasy and impossible of fulfilment, that person should at once
deliberately remould and re-state his aims, so that they become:
(a) clearly defined,
(b) clearly possible.
Moreover, the aims should be of two kinds:
(1) immediate,
(2) remote.
The remote aim is the ideal for which he is striving; and however high
that ideal be, it should be of a kind possible of fulfilment, not
necessarily in the lifetime of the individual, in all cases, for he may
be working for something of which he does not expect fulfilment for
even hundreds of years, yet it may be perfectly legitimately termed a
real aim, as opposed to a phantastic one.
_Now, the first thing which the individual should bear in mind is that
an immediate aim should always be in harmony with the remote aim._ Let
it also be borne in mind that when we state that the aim should be
clearly possible, we do not only mean that the aims should be possible
from a point of view of external environment and circumstances, but
also having regard to the patient’s own intelligence, will-power,
education, and physical health--in other words possible in the case of
this particular individual.
Now let us consider in detail the further course to be pursued by the
person who proposes to treat himself on these lines. Let him take
pencil and paper and write out in the fullest of details a list of
his aims, great and small, in the first place, without any reference
to their bearing upon one another, or any attempt at classification,
keeping in mind that by aims in life, we mean wishes which he hopes
will be fulfilled. Let him think of every conceivable wish in his mind,
and write it down, whether phantastic in nature, or trivial, or whether
both possible and important.
In the next place, let him see that this list is written so clearly
and accurately, that each of the aims is well defined and without
ambiguity. Now let him run through the list again, and see whether
any of the aims are in conflict with one another, and whether any of
them are inconsistent from the view point of his, and are therefore
impossible of fulfilment. Let him put his pencil definitely through
such impossible aims, and cut them out of his life, with as full a
realisation as possible of the fact that they are nothing but dreams,
that he need never consider them again, that he must not regret them,
for that is mere infantile crying after the impossible. He must
replace them in due course with others possible of fulfilment.
Now let him take the revised list and separate it into two divisions,
writing the aims down again under the two headings, (1) immediate aims,
and (2) remote aims. Here, he will have to bear in mind one of his
chief faults, if he be strongly Narcissistic. Such persons in their
phantasy carry their aims to completion long before reality can permit
of it. The time-factor is not realised, and hence they have a great
tendency to confuse remote aims with the immediate aims, in their
desire to see immediate results; hence, also, because they cannot soon
see such results, they give way to despair, become depressed, and have
the tendency to regress to the infantile characteristics to which I
have already referred. Here lies the importance of dividing the aims
into immediate and remote. For as soon as the individual’s mind has
grasped the fact that an aim is necessarily remote, and therefore
impossible of immediate fulfilment, he is much more able to adjust
himself to these facts, and to pay real and undivided attention to
the immediate present. Apart from the fact that sorting and adjusting
of the aims relieves the mind of many previous conflicts, it acts as
a stimulus to a considerable amount of directive thinking. And the
patient will be surprised at first to find the amount of time it is
possible to spend in a really useful recasting of his life interests.
It was not until the author, himself, took pencil and paper, and
classified his own aims, and put down the points for and against each,
and attempted to see the disharmonies existing amongst them, that he
realised the full value of this procedure. It might be thought that in
a very short period any person could put down all his aims, and that
but little modification would take place in them from day to day. This,
however, is very far from being true, as will be seen by anyone who
carries out this method fully.
Perhaps at this point the details taken from a case of a woman
suffering from a “nervous breakdown” in which I used this method as a
subsidiary form of treatment, may not only be of interest, but will
also throw some light on the practical working of the method. I may
mention that her chief troubles were insomnia, constant worrying, great
depression, and inability to settle down to work of any kind.
In the first place, this patient commenced by stating that she had no
aim in life at all. She had to admit, however, immediately after, that
she had at least the aim of wishing to get well, or otherwise she would
not have come to me. On being asked why she wished to get well, several
subsidiary aims appeared. For the most part, they were rationalization,
and I knew these aims would be thrown over in due course, but that, for
the purpose in view, did not matter. I told her to go home, and write
down her aims, in the manner I have just indicated.
The following was the list brought to me on the next day.
(1) To be well.
(2) To be married.
(3) To become a doctor.
(4) And if I cannot do that, to become a masseuse.
(5) Or a psycho-analyst.
(6) Or a private secretary.
(7) And I should like to have two children.
With this rather pathetic list in front of me, I asked her to give as
far as possible the reasons she had for these various wishes, and to
examine these on the lines I had indicated, with the following results.
(1) _To get well._ “The reason for this aim is obvious; it is necessary
in order to obtain the others,” said she.
(2) _To get married._ “This aim has three subsidiary immediate aims,”
she replied, “and there may be others. (a) I want a comfortable home of
my own, (b) I want satisfaction of my natural instincts in accordance
with the custom of ordinary adult life, (c) I could attain the later
aim of having two children.” She immediately added, “In that case, the
aim of having two children is a remote aim, and if I follow your advice
I must no longer have day-dreams about them, I must put them out of my
thoughts, I must not waste time on anything connected with them, until
I am married.”
(3) _To become a doctor._ “Concerning this,” she added, “I have
always liked studying Zoology, and microscopic work, and diseases.
Moreover, it is the only way in which one can make money in a really
interesting manner.” She then stated that she realised this to be
a double aim, and to consist, firstly, of the aim of earning a
livelihood, and secondly, of that of having an interesting occupation.
This aim was soon discovered to be phantastic, however, for she had to
admit that her financial position would not permit of the necessary
study, and that there was no prospect of any improvement in this. She
therefore realised that although she had had it at the back of her
mind for several months that somehow such an aim might be possible of
fulfilment, she now clearly saw that it was not. She at once removed
it from the list, and realised that neither regrets nor phantasy in
connection with it would be of any avail, and again, that she must bear
in mind possibilities and realities.
(4) _To become a masseuse._ She at once stated her thoughts on this
subject. “I have known one or two masseuses, who seem to make money,
and who are very happy. Moreover, it is an occupation that a lady can
take up.” She then discovered that this involved three aims: (a) to
make money, (b) to be happy, (c) to remain genteel. On the opposite
side, however, she added that she was not sufficiently physically
strong for the work, and was afraid she would soon tire of it, because
as an occupation itself, it did not appeal to her. This aim, also,
immediately disappeared from the list.
(5) _To become a psycho-analyst._ This, said she, was a very
interesting subject, and she thought she could do much good by means of
it. Moreover, she thought she would like psychology though she had not
studied it much as yet. “Moreover,” said she, “psycho-analysts probably
make a lot of money. And further, it would be very nice to sit at
home in an arm-chair to do one’s work, and to let other people do the
talking.” She at once recognised this latter idea to be a thoroughly
Narcissistic regression. And then she found that all the other ideas
contained multiple aims in themselves, each of which had to be thought
out and classified, and into the details of which I need not go. Except
to say that when she considered the matter from a practical point of
view, the difficulties of training, the time it would take, and more
especially the fact that she feared that psycho-analysis might not be
popular by the time she was ready, she determined that it was only a
phantasy aim, upon which she had been wasting phantasy thought, and she
ruled it out.
(6) _To become a private secretary._ On this point, she considered that
her personal appearance and general education would help her, and was
quite compatible with the aim. But she knew no shorthand, book-keeping,
nor typewriting. She, however, realised at once that the immediate aim
in this case should be the shorthand, book-keeping, and typewriting,
and she said, “I will go to-morrow and see where I can learn these
things.” I pointed out to her that she might very possibly change
her mind, when she considered things further, but that even if she
did so, the mastery of shorthand, typewriting and book-keeping might
stand her in good stead, and in any case that she would be working for
an immediate object, in turning some of her phantasy into directive
thought. And on the morrow, she actually did commence her studies on
these subjects.
(7) _The desire to have two children._ This was at once classified, as
I have already said, as a remote aim; though, as a matter of fact, she
got married shortly afterwards, and the remote aim is now on the way to
being fulfilled, as she has one child.
I have shown by this example the ill-considered, phantastic, and
conflicting aims, which some persons may at first produce when they
attempt deliberately to classify them. But it must be remembered that
each of the subsidiary aims which she had discovered her primary aims
to be divided into were, in turn, again capable of being divided into
further subsidiary aims. And the next stage of this form of technique
is to discover these. Day by day, the pencil and paper must be
brought out, and a list of aims and wishes for that day compiled and
considered. They must be in turn examined to show (1) whether they are
compatible with one another, (2) whether they are compatible with other
immediate aims, (3) whether they are compatible with the remote aims.
A strong attempt must then be made to eradicate any aims or wishes
which are antagonistic to one another, or to the primary aims of the
individual, which have already been passed as real. As progress is
made, definite and personal aims will be developed day by day, many of
these, no doubt, apparently trivial, others at least important for the
day in question, all important from the point of view of developing the
habit of thinking in terms of reality.
For instance, on one occasion, the lady above mentioned wrote on her
list in the morning that she wished to work hard at her shorthand
in the early part of the day, to go to a matinée in the afternoon,
and to a dance in the evening. On consideration, however, she came
to the conclusion that the dance in the evening, following after
the day’s work and entertainment, would probably interfere with her
next morning’s work, and it was not, moreover, compatible with that
immediate aim of regaining complete health at the earliest possible
moment. It was, therefore, rejected; the lesser aim was recast, and
a quiet dinner with a friend substituted. Only by such rigorous and
possibly painful self-treatment can the Narcissist’s conflicts be
regulated and viewed in a proper perspective.
Every daily aim has a further subsidiary aim appertaining to it. For
instance, a man may have made up his mind to devote a certain part
of the day to studying; the lesser aim includes the subject to be
studied, the amount to be done, and the time to be occupied. It is
important that he should not over-estimate the amount he can get done
in a given time. One reason why so much detail should be considered,
is that it is astounding how excessively a person, with a tendency to
phantasy thought, over-estimates the amount of work it is possible
to get through in a given time. No sooner is a task commenced than
he expects it to be almost finished. The daily programme frequently
includes far more than is possible, and he forms a habit of being late
for everything; all this being merely the ordinary omnipotent idea of
childhood, which fulfils a wish in phantasy as readily as it is formed.
I must now give a warning, that those who follow this method are, at
first, nearly always extremely impatient for results, for this very
reason that they do not realise the time-factor; and they must realise,
and consciously and patiently accept inevitable delay, with the
assurance that if they can overcome their Narcissism sufficiently to
persist in the method they will steadily and gradually develop a habit,
an attitude of mind which devotes its energy to directive thought, to
real aims, and to displacing from themselves the phantastic medley
which was there before.
CHAPTER XII
READJUSTMENT OF THOUGHT
We have seen in an earlier chapter how one of the ways in which
Narcissism manifests itself is in day-dreams. We saw how a child would
substitute a phantasy or day-dream for a reality, and so fulfil its
wishes and desires in this unreal manner. And we saw how, if this were
persisted in to excess, the same or a modified method of fulfilling
one’s wishes in realms of phantasy would remain even in adult life.
I may here remark that even _very little_ day-dreaming constitutes
excess, and is bound to have a deleterious effect upon the efficiency
and happiness of the individual’s life; unless, perhaps, that
individual is mixing sufficient directive thought with his phantasies
as in the case of a novelist or artist, for instance. In realising
this, it must be borne in mind, that time and energy spent in phantasy
thinking are time and energy lost to reality and fact; that the
encouragement of the habit of phantasy thinking destroys the ability
to think directively, or rather renders the full development of it
impossible. Moreover, by encouraging day-dreams, we are simultaneously
holding on to our Narcissism, and making it more likely that it
will also find outlets in other deleterious ways. For instance, the
“worrying nature” which is constantly thinking of possible troubles to
come, and of how past troubles might have been avoided is indulging in
a form of phantasy thinking. If the habit of phantasy thinking has been
cultivated for pleasurable purposes, a channel has been opened which
will be used without conscious intention for other kinds of phantasy
as well. The habit of worrying to which we have just referred, is an
example of this.
Worry consists in weaving phantasies about something which cannot at
the moment be influenced directively. It may be about something which
_has_ happened and therefore cannot be influenced at all by thinking
about it, or about something which _may_ happen but over which the
thinker has no immediate control; and it consists in going over all
the “mays” and “mights” connected with the case, and experiencing
the unpleasant emotions belonging to each phantasied situation. In
order to get rid of this worrying habit, to close the channel which
permits of it, a person must simultaneously cut out pleasurable
day-dreams also, and thus close the channel entirely. Therefore, let
us recommend the individual who indulges largely in day-dreams, to get
rid of the habit as soon as possible. Those who have other abnormal
characteristics which they wish to eradicate, should understand that
they must, simultaneously, get rid of their day-dreams. And this means
pulling oneself up, not merely when one discovers oneself imagining
some glorious vista in which one occupies a principle but impossible
part, it means similarly pulling oneself up in a thousand little ways;
it means catching oneself whenever one wanders from a type of directive
thought to a type of phantastic thought.
For instance, in the examination of one’s aims, one is thinking
directively, and one comes to the conclusion that, say, a course
of shorthand and typewriting shall be taken at once, that the aim
of being a secretary is one suitable and compatible with one’s
attainments. At this point, it is very easy for the individual to
suddenly find that he or she has become, in day-dreams, the secretary
of a duke or American millionaire. And if he does not pull himself up
at this stage, he will find that the duke’s money has been left him,
or she will find that she has married the American millionaire. And
so the phantasy goes on. It starts in reality, but the Narcissistic
temperament takes it right away from this. It must be nipped in the
bud at the very beginning, if the habit of directive thought is to be
established. As soon as the individual finds himself drifting in this
way, wasting energy, fulfilling wishes by mere dreams, he must pull
himself up short, and say to himself, “Here the real ends, there the
phantasy begins. This is the point I must come back to, I must deal
with this matter from the real point of view only, without allowing
this phantasy to intrude itself.”
And here again, much patience will be needed, for if the habit has
already been cultivated, he will soon be back in phantasy again,
probably in less than five minutes. But phantasy thought does not only
mean day-dreams in the sense in which we have spoken of them here. It
may take all sort of disguises, and what would be phantasy thought in
one person, would be directive thought in another. In one case, the
environment and education and inherent ability would not be of that
order which could make the thoughts come to be facts; in the other case
the abilities of the person might be sufficient to do so. Thus, were an
ordinary person to sit in his arm-chair, and phantasy a wonderful plan
for the conquest of Europe, without having either the will or the means
of carrying out his ambition, that would constitute phantasy thinking
pure and simple. If, however, a Napoleon did the same, with the will
and the possible means, with the near aim at hand in the conquest of
a small country, and the subsequent conquest of Europe as an ultimate
one, his method of thought would have to be described as directive
thinking. So that similar thinking in two different individuals may
really be classified as two different principles of thinking.
I have no doubt that many readers will be saying to themselves now,
“But my greatest pleasure is to be found in day-dreams. I find in
directive thinking nothing but hard work.”
In such a case, if the individual cannot enjoy his directive
thinking, and he gets no emotional discharge by means of it, it is
possible that his aims in life are unsuited to him, or that he has
not sufficient aims in life, that his time is not as fully occupied
with interesting _acts_ as it should be. In such a case, subsidiary
aims should be formed deliberately, wherein he could take an interest
in directive thinking. _For it may be accepted as a fact that, with
proper cultivation and education, more real pleasure can be found in
suitable directive thinking than in any amount of day-dreams._ It is
also a further fact that the individual’s energy is not then wasted,
but is more or less efficiently utilised. Moreover, instead of losing
strength of character, he is now gaining it. Let it be borne in mind,
always, that continual indulgence of phantasy thought, from its very
ease, breeds the habit of inertia, for the individual’s aims and wishes
attain fulfilment without any need for activity on his part; and here
a vicious circle is produced, because the inertia, which he has thus
encouraged, now in its turn tends to make him resort to phantasy the
more.
It is easy, of course, to say, “I will cut myself off from phantasy
thought, I will pull myself up whenever this occurs, and leave it
alone.” But it is by no means easy to act up to this resolution. If,
however, another kind of directive thought is deliberately substituted
for the phantasy, the task is made very much easier. If the water in
the bath is too hot, and we want it to cool rapidly, we do not merely
turn off the hot tap, we simultaneously turn on the cold.
The task will be rendered more easy still, if the individual selects
his subject of directive thought to replace phantasy beforehand, not
waiting until the time comes. For instance, we will suppose that,
as one subsidiary aim with which to fill in his time, a person has
selected the collection of postage stamps. He will each day have in
front of him some page which he wishes to arrange in chronological
order, to consider from the point of view of water-marks and
perforations; and he may make up his mind that as soon as he finds
himself dealing in phantasy thought he will not only cut out the
phantasy thought but will at once start arranging, in his mind, the
stamps which he was shortly going to arrange in his book. It matters
not in the least what form the substitute thought takes, so long as it
possesses two qualities, (1) it is directive, _i.e._, it is going to
lead to some sort of actual change or action, and (2) that it bears
a pleasurable interest. And for that reason, I have selected a very
trivial form of directive thought as an example. The point is that
the individual should select some subject in which he has a personal
and active interest, as a subject with which he may replace phantasy
thought, whenever the latter comes into his mind.
Phantasy thought may, further, not be of necessity thoughts impossible
of fulfilment, except in the immediate present. Thoughts of erotic
or other desires which intrude themselves at untimely moments, are
phantasy thoughts, and some people frequently complain that they are
annoyed by them, especially when they have no intention of actually
fulfilling them in fact, or when the means of fulfilling them are
not present. Here again, to have a subject ready at hand, or to
have a substitute thought for the undesired thoughts is a very real
assistance. Even a sentence thought out beforehand or a good maxim
which can be repeated several times and considered, forms an excellent
substitute thought with which to replace the unwanted phantasy.
Let us now consider a few other examples. The majority of educated
people, of a so-called normal type, when they have completed their
day’s work, and are fatigued, require some sort of mental rest, and as
a rule some kind of phantasy thought is resorted to in the evening.
Also, when this fatigue is cumulative, they say, “We have worked
eleven months, and now require one month’s holiday.” This is really an
unconscious phantasy requiring a regressive reward. They are not really
tired out, physically or mentally, but they have accumulated, after
a series of postponements, a large number of Narcissistic efforts at
phantasy; and the holiday which they now require is really to satisfy
this. It is a return to childhood and the time of irresponsibility,
and their occupations on the holiday may very likely be, to a large
extent, similar to those with which they occupied themselves in
childhood. They throw off their adult status and responsibility, and
deliberately take this regressive reward. Even with normal people
the idea of _rest_ in the form of a holiday, often means nothing but
phantasy thought, time disregarded, no effort of any sort to be made.
But in the less Narcissistic type of person who still retains directive
thought even on a holiday--a holiday means merely change in immediate
aim, change in occupation, rather than rest from aim and occupation.
Phantasy thinking may take many quite surreptitious forms. In old age,
for instance, we know that type of person, who is quietly slipping
into helpless imbecility. He is the same man, who, at an earlier age,
lacked the habit of directive thought. On the other hand, there is
our intellectual old man or woman, still full of the day’s problems
or politics, who indulged, in early life, but little in phantasies.
Experience shows us that the influence of directive or undirective
thought in youth may not only determine our happiness in declining
years, but may even determine the actual age to which we live. For,
paradoxically, it is the Narcissist, who of all people desires a long
life, and who is, of all people, the least likely to attain old age. He
frequently “worries himself into the grave.”
We have not yet exhausted the forms of phantasy thought. A casual
conversation between acquaintances in which no information of value
is imparted, in which merely some emotional material is brought to
the surface and thrown out, is undirective thought. The first person,
interested in some emotional experience, recounts to the second the
facts of that experience, often without arousing any emotional feeling
in the second person. Such is the type of conversation which takes
place over a vast majority of tea-tables. It is wasted energy.
Another example is that of conventional letter-writing, in certain
cases. The duty letter which one person writes to another person is
of the same type. The writer who deals with his or her experiences
on a shopping expedition, who states a series of things which have
happened, merely in order to enjoy them once again in phantasy, is
performing the same waste of energy. There is no return for this
expended energy, the rush of ideas produces no result. Perhaps the
time is due for a letter to be written, and it is the turn of this
person to write a letter. As a result of this conventional attitude,
the writer has to resort to phantasy thought to satisfy the needs of
the moment. We have pointed out that reading a novel is a form of
phantasy thinking, in which we identify ourselves with the hero. The
same occurs in our cinemas. Here, the pleasure of phantasy thinking is
enhanced by the fact that the visual impression is produced direct,
whereas in reading a novel the visual impression is by words only,
and a certain amount of effort is needed to translate it in the mind
into its pictorial form; and thus the cinematograph induces a form of
phantasy thinking which needs the least effort of all to realise. It
is within the reach of anyone possessing a few pence, and although the
average person may regard it as educative and useful to the community,
the magistrate who is dealing with the youthful delinquent knows the
cinematograph to be very harmful to the child’s mind. And there is no
doubt that the unconscious effect of such mental stimuli is excessively
deleterious to the race in general. The indulgence in it encourages
the habit of phantasy thinking at a small cost, and such a habit soon
becomes established as part of the individual’s make-up. Nor does the
evil stay itself here. For the phantasy in the cinematograph consists
usually in the fulfilment of impossible wishes, and in this, as in
other cases, the emotional output is increased out of all proportion
to the real exciting causes. This results in a misplacement in the
emotional output in the unconscious mind, which in its turn is the
basis of many neurotic conditions which may even require a physician’s
aid to eradicate. And one must remember that a neurotic condition need
not merely be the illness of an individual, it may be, and often is,
the disease of a nation. Hence, like the fairy-tale, the cinema, as it
is at present, should not be used as a child’s pastime.
§2
In other forms of Narcissism also, we shall find it easier to break
away from phantasy if we substitute a reality; that is, if we turn our
flow of energy into a real, instead of an imaginary channel, instead of
merely trying to dam the flow in the original channel. In cases where
this Narcissism involves a bad habit, such as irritability, impatience,
weeping, etc., the line that should be followed differs rather from
that suggested in the case of day-dreams. In the first place, not only
should we pull ourselves up short, but we should also bear in mind,
immediately, the first part of the technique which we suggested in
a previous chapter. That is to say, we should call to mind what our
abnormal act really means, and having done this, having realised it in
consciousness, _we should then endeavour to use the same energy which
we should have used for this abnormal act in an immediate and useful
manner_. Now, in all these cases, our abnormal reaction takes place
because our omnipotence or sense of perfection is disturbed; and since
this sense of perfection is not real, the easiest and most convenient
channel for us to turn our energy into is one which still satisfies the
sense of perfection, that is to say, one in which we may feel that _we
are, by our act, becoming more perfect in reality, instead of clinging
to our perfection in phantasy_. It is impossible to give examples to
cover the very many reactions which may take place, but one actual
example, given in detail, should be sufficient to enable the individual
to invent others to suit his own case. Let us again take the case
of the impatient man, in which the Time-factor has never been fully
realised.
Let us say that he has entered a restaurant for lunch, and that
having glanced down the menu, he then has to wait ten minutes before
the waiter attends to him. Probably, after the first minute of that
time, he has begun to get impatient; at the end of ten minutes he is
either making up his mind to go without his lunch, so great is his
irritability, or else he is, with great emotion, explaining to his
neighbour how extremely inefficient this restaurant is, as regards
management, service, and, in fact, everything connected with it. He is
utterly unable to realise the facts of the case. Let us again refer
to the facts for a moment. The restaurant is a business, and must make
a profit; in order to do this, only a limited number of waiters can
possibly be kept, and the number of these has to be regulated by the
_average_ number of customers, by the profit which it is possible to
make in the neighbourhood, and other factors. In the second place, the
luncheon hour is one at which the number of customers is well above
the average, and therefore in which the service is bound to be the
slowest; however good the management, however skilful the waiters, they
are obliged to devote a certain number of minutes to each customer;
and the probability is that our Narcissistic individual is being as
well attended to as anybody else. He does not realise this however, he
is not dealing with the facts at all. He merely knows that he wishes
for an immediate meal, that his sense of perfection is thoroughly
disturbed, and his unconscious idea is that if he is sufficiently
impatient, what he wants will come to him immediately, just as it did
in childhood.
Now let us see how he may deal with himself. We will suppose that
he has read this chapter before his next visit to the restaurant in
question. Once again he sits down, once again he finds he is kept
waiting. His impatience begins to manifest itself in its early stages.
He pulls himself up, and the first thing that he does is to realise the
causes of his impatience, as set out in the last paragraph. He must go
quickly over the original causes of his Narcissism in infancy, and of
how he obtained means of satisfaction, and so developed his present
habit of thought. He must run over the facts concerning the restaurant,
and realise that it is a business place, and that it is at its busiest
hour. In other words, he must get into full consciousness the various
factors associated with this Narcissistic outburst of impatience. Then,
let him realise as a kind of summary, “What I am actually objecting
to is the disturbance of my unconscious feeling of omnipotence and
perfection. Let me, however, turn this energy, utilise this time
during which I am waiting in attaining a step nearer real perfection
instead of bemoaning the loss of my imaginary perfection. Now, a step
towards real perfection will be attained, if I overcome this habit
of impatience. Let me, therefore, utilise this time in sitting here
patiently, in worrying no longer about the time the waiter is taking,
in being actually pleased with the fact that I am becoming more
patient, and that my time is being usefully filled with a directive
aim, which has as its object the same ultimate idea as the original
phantastic one, namely, that of perfection.”
Critics may here suggest that this long monologue on the part of the
impatient individual might have been cut short by allowing him to say,
“Obviously, the waiters are busy, it is no use being impatient, let me
be patient.” I must point out, however, that the result would probably
not have been the same. The longer method has its value in the fact
that he brings into consciousness the two ideas of perfection, the
Narcissistic idea which is being hurt, and the real idea which he is
desiring consciously to obtain. _And it is very much easier to turn
energy from one channel to another, if there are lines of similarity
between the two channels._
Hence, when one’s sense of perfection is assailed, let one turn
one’s energy into some form of thought which still satisfies the idea
of perfection attained or attainable. A similar process can be gone
through with any other Narcissistic form of trouble, and consists in
recapitulating the causes, and in reaching a determined effort to
deflect consciously the energy from the phantastic into the real. The
same principle holds good for all temperamental troubles of this sort,
but the individual will have to devise for himself a suitable formula
to use to suit the needs of his own case.
CHAPTER XIII
AUTO-SUGGESTION
Suggestion, in one form or another, plays an extremely important
part in the life of everyone. Suggestion consists in impressing upon
the unconscious mind some idea or thought in such a way that the
unconscious mind will take it and absorb it as part of itself, and
utilise it unconsciously and instinctively. Quite unconsciously,
throughout childhood and adult life, we are receiving suggestions from
the actions of those around us.
For example, I remember as a boy going repeatedly with a relative
to a friend’s house. At the time, I did not notice that my relative
invariably used the knocker, and never rang the bell, or rather I did
not consciously notice it. On one occasion I, myself, was sent with
a message to this house, and although I was in the habit of ringing
bells whenever I went to other houses, at this particular one, I
instinctively knocked only. The suggestion that I should knock upon
that particular door had been implanted in me by the fact that I had
repeatedly seen the same action take place, although I had paid no
conscious attention to it. It had impressed itself upon my mind as
the right action to take place, under the particular circumstances
attending a visit to this house, so that I performed the action itself
automatically, without any further thought in the matter.
The example impressed itself upon my mind, because while I was in the
house, on this occasion, a man came to mend the bell, which had been
out of order for many months. Hence, the reason my relative invariably
knocked.
Suggestion of various kinds is a very powerful factor, and as in
the example given above, it is for the most part an unconscious
factor in determining our actions. But it is possible for us to give
ourselves _conscious_ suggestions which will afterwards cause us to
act automatically, in accordance with the suggestion. A great deal too
much, however, has been claimed for suggestion in recent months. There
are many circumstances in which suggestion is not likely to be any
good at all, there are also circumstances when it may arouse an actual
opposition in the unconscious mind, where a counter-suggestion is set
at work immediately, and the condition of the individual may actually
be worse than before he started giving himself suggestions.
Apart from other things, one factor may be mentioned which is very
antagonistic to suggestion, and that is _fear_, possibly fear which
is for the most part unconscious. Thus, supposing that the alcoholic
gives himself the suggestion that he shall pass a public-house without
going into it, and he has a definite fear of the wish to go in; he
will probably find that in suggesting that he shall not have the wish,
he is actually re-enforcing the strength of the wish which is there.
His unconscious counter-will is at work, and turning the force of the
suggestion in the wrong direction, and he will very likely succumb
to temptation more readily than before. Hence, in a subject where we
have acute fear of failure, suggestion must be very carefully dealt
with. Moreover, suggestion, to be efficient, must have other things in
its favour, some knowledge, in fact, of the underlying causes of the
deleterious action which we wish to eradicate. It is not impossible to
improve oneself by suggestion, even though one may be ignorant of the
cause of one’s trouble, but I have found that it is infinitely more
easy to obtain this improvement if one has previously brought into
consciousness the underlying cause, and can therefore direct one’s
suggestion to this rather than merely to the effect or symptom. I have
myself devised a method for the use of certain of my patients by means
of which suggestion may be directed to both the cause and result,
as indicated shortly. Ordinary methods of suggestion are frequently
merely directed to the cure of the symptom rather than the disease; in
fact, such auto-suggestion, popular as it has become, may frequently
be likened to a doctor who treats small-pox by putting ointment on the
spots, or appendicitis by giving morphia. It will be successful in
those cases where the manifestations of the disease are worse than the
disease itself; but when the causes are strong and virile, suggestion
directed towards the symptom will not avail.
In an earlier chapter, we described how the individual suffering
from deleterious abnormalities of temperament could, to some extent,
trace the cause of this back to infancy. We told how this, in itself,
would, if repeatedly brought to mind on succeeding occasions, produce
considerable improvement. We have further discussed how he could
consciously turn the energy from one form of reaction into another
and more suitable form. All these methods, however, may be made
considerably more efficient by the active use of auto-suggestion, as I
have indicated, directed partially to the cause and partially to the
result desired. Thus, the form which suggestion should take in the case
of the man, whom we quoted in the last chapter as being over-impatient
in the restaurant, would be somewhat as follows:
He would have to impress upon himself several suggestions; and in the
case of each of these suggestions he would be required to form a mental
picture of himself in the conditions to which the suggestions referred.
Firstly, “In circumstances in which I have been accustomed to react
with impatience, I will no longer act as I did when I was a little
child.” (In repeating this to himself in the manner to be referred to
shortly, he should hold a picture of himself reacting impatiently when
a child, and contrast it with the manner in which he ought to have
acted.) Secondly, “Under conditions which have previously caused me to
react with impatience, I will in future, at once think out the _real_
circumstances of the case.” (And another suitable mental picture should
be visualised here, as also in each of the following suggestions.)
Thirdly, “Under conditions which previously caused me to react with
impatience, I will no longer be impatient.” Fourthly, “Under conditions
to which I have been accustomed to react with impatience, I shall now
devote my energy to perfecting myself, in reality.” Thus, he is taking
himself through the stages from childhood onward, and re-educating
himself in each stage by means of a forced education in which the
individual “grows up” in reality from the point at which he stopped in
childhood.
Not one, but all these thoughts, and possibly even intermediate ones
that may develop, should be impressed upon the unconscious mind, so
that they may act automatically. As to the method which should be
adopted by the patient in giving himself suggestions, I recommend the
following. That he first of all write down briefly the results of his
self-examination, that he should take those results in chronological
order, and write down from them suitable suggestions dealing with
the various stages, such as I have just written with regard to the
impatient man. That every night and morning, or at any other time
during the day, he should for five or ten minutes lie down, relax
himself, and close his eyes; that he should then repeat to himself
fifteen or twenty times each of the suggestions, taking the earliest
first, then the next, and so on. They need not be repeated out loud,
but if repeated under the breath and accompanied by a suitable movement
of the lips, it will suffice. Effort should be avoided; suggestion
is not an effort of will so much as an impression effected by the
imagination. When an individual is giving himself suggestion, he is not
fighting an active battle, he is merely allowing ideas to sink into his
mind; and if they are repeated often enough, like drops of water which
in time wear a channel in the stone, they will make their mark and
produce their effects in due course.
Suggestion, in fact, minimises the need for the use of will-power,
at any given moment in a difficult situation. If the battle has been
fought out beforehand in imagination, it will automatically succeed
when the time comes. The will has played its part previously when
adopting the method of suggestion.
This is not a text-book on suggestion, and I do not propose to go
further into the method here. I merely wish to point out the practical
efficiency of the use of a certain amount of auto-suggestion when
applied in conjunction with the other methods of combating Narcissism
already outlined, and when applied in an intelligent manner, so that
not merely the symptoms, but the original causes themselves shall be
affected by it.
CHAPTER XIV
CONCLUSION
The previous portion of this book has been devoted to showing how
Narcissism may be harmful, and how in its endeavour to obtain
satisfaction it may render the individual unhappy in the utmost
degree. It is possible that the reader will have gathered that the
author regards Narcissism as wholly and completely a useless and
detrimental element in life; the more so, since at various points
we have had to emphasise that in one form or another very little of
it persisting in adult life may be a great deal too much. It should
be realised, however, that Narcissism to a slight extent, and at
certain periods, plays an important and also necessary part in the
individual’s life. We mentioned at one place that a certain amount of
identification was beneficial in choosing one’s life partner. Whereas
too much identification might lead to one’s choosing a sexual partner
of the same sex, a small amount of identification might lead to one’s
choosing a partner with the same tastes, and would further lead to a
tendency to enjoy whatsoever the other one enjoyed, and to dislike what
the other one disliked, and this similarity would lead to a certain
harmony in life. _Narcissism is a normal thing in the new-born infant,
and Narcissism is the root of many virtues; but its final adult form
must be sublimated and very much attenuated._ It is like the salt in
cooking; a little is essential to bring out the flavour, but a very
little more spoils the whole dish.
A certain amount of self-love, self-appreciation, self-importance, and
self-consciousness of one’s own capacities is necessary in every one;
without it he would be ill prepared to cope with men and circumstances.
But this necessary self-importance and self-appreciation is not, as
many might think, due to Narcissism alone. It has a slight Narcissistic
element, but it is largely a resultant of other unconscious instincts,
which we have not attempted to deal with here; and we only mention
it, lest the reader should draw the conclusion that these necessary
elements in our character are drawn purely from a Narcissistic
basis, and that he should therefore be left puzzled as to how, if he
should eradicate Narcissism, he would be able to retain necessary
characteristics which apparently belong to this same instinct. It is
also very necessary for the reader to bear in mind that much which
may be developed from Narcissism is useful; even though the original
from which it came may be dangerous and harmful. Moreover, a certain
amount of enjoyment of phantasy such as is obtained from novels or
theatres may be in many people quite a useful and adequate form of
relaxation. With them it may be strictly cut off from real life, may
be strictly limited as regards time and place, and, in fact, entirely
under their control. In such persons it forms a useful element in their
lives. I do not say that if their early education and environment had
been different they might not possibly possess an even better form of
recreation, but merely that, taking facts as they are, in certain cases
it forms a useful factor in the working scheme of life.
In others, however, in those where it has exceeded the limits of
absolute control, it is necessary, for the time being at least, to
attempt to cut it out as completely as possible, because where it is
allowed slight free play, it is liable to get out of hand, unless it
can be dealt with absolutely at the will of the individual. Hence the
necessity for such stringent treatment as I have laid down in the
previous chapters of this book.
I have attempted to show that happiness is, for the most part,
within the individual’s own grasp. Happiness comes from within the
individual and not from without. Unhappiness must not be confused
with pain, either mental or physical, for pain is a normal reaction,
to a harmful stimulus which all are liable to feel; it is for the
most part beyond the individual’s control so long as the stimulus
persists; but the peace of mind, the absence of worry, of irritability,
of perpetual uneasiness, which we call unhappiness, lies within the
control of everybody. It largely consists in continually recognising
what facts are unchangeable, and ceasing to bemoan or phantasy about
these unchangeable facts. It is true that the road to happiness may
be difficult if we have long been accustomed to tread the path of
Narcissism, but it is equally true that if the advice laid down in this
book be followed patiently and systematically, a very much happier
frame of mind will be attained as a result. In a few cases, Narcissism
is not a predominant factor causing the temperamental disturbance
although superficially it may appear to be so. In such cases (where
other primitive instincts are really of paramount importance) the same
degree of improvement will not be attained by this method of self
treatment and only a more prolonged course of regular psycho-analysis
is likely to produce the desired result.
Happiness is not to be found by seeking happiness in the direct sense.
This, I am aware, sounds very much like a mere high-sounding thought
of a writer. It is the sort of phrase that people dismiss with the
remark, “That is all very well in theory.” This statement, however,
is not made from any moral or sentimental point of view, nor on any
purely theoretical grounds, but as a scientific fact, which has been
demonstrated as the result of psychological research. It may be
interesting to note here how much the psychology of happiness is in
agreement with many of the teachings of the New Testament, although a
different terminology and mode of expression may be used.
It was pointed out earlier how the individual who employed too much
phantasy thought in youth might worry himself into an early grave,
although he was the same individual who most desired a long life. It
has now been shown that happiness does not come to those who seek
happiness, but to those who can adapt themselves to realities, that
is, to those who can control their Narcissism. Narcissism is not so
very different from the word “self,” as used in Christian teachings,
and any who are interested enough to compare them will find that there
is considerable parallelism between Christian teaching and certain
psychological observations.
I must emphasise the fact once more that patience, that is a
realization of the time factor, is very necessary for those who attempt
self-treatment on the lines indicated in this book. For since lack of
this is often one of their faults to start with, they may otherwise
involve themselves in a vicious circle, from which they do not
escape. Patience and attention to detail will, however, enable them to
accomplish that improvement which they have set out to achieve. In the
words of Horace, “Happiness is here, happiness is everywhere, if only a
well-regulated mind does not fail you.”
THE END