The guest house. A reflection on projections and a poem by Rumi

The guest house. A reflection on projections and a poem by Rumi

“I don’t like that guy,” my friend told me after we left the cafe. “I don’t either,” I responded, but then it hit me. Why did that guy’s behavior bother me so much and why was I so invested in casting this judgement on him, so that I could feel better? I had been thinking that he was a real jerk. The person in question had not even talked to me directly but was speaking loudly  on his cell phone using lewd words.  I was offended and upset.  Then there was a teacher. He didn’t look at people and rushed through a lecture as if he didn’t care. He never stopped to talk to any of the students, as if nobody mattered. I was offended again. To top it all, someone recently deliberately tried to run me off the road with their pick-up truck.  I was shocked.  Something was stirred up in me and I realized that I had to do some deep thinking about my response to other people’s behavior. Was it all my projections? According to Wikipedia, psychological projection is a theory in psychology in which the human ego defends itself against unconscious impulses or qualities (both positive and negative) by denying their existence in themselves while attributing them to others.

Every time I identify with some other person’s bad behavior there is some sort of projection happening. For example: I don’t like people with loud voices because my grandfather scared me with his loud laugh while slamming his fist on the table. I don’t like the teacher in question because I experienced being ignored as a child. I understand the power of projections and what it offers in terms of a spiritual practice. From Jungian psychology I know that complexes are unknown psychic material in our unconscious which seem uncontrollable but with practice can be recognized and transformed. If I can recognize a complex appearing in the form of a projection I can use my spiritual practice to first embrace it and then to let it go. My insightful spiritual director has told me to greet my complexes and projections with open arms and to allow the holy to do its work.  That resonates with me as it also is expressed in the poem by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks: 

The Guest House. 

This being is a human guesthouse.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He (She) may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in. 

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.