All Things Subconceptual

There are many ways to divide the human world — reason and emotion, body and mind, inner and outer. However, one of the most profound and overlooked is the divide between the conceptual and the subconceptual. It is not a division of two types of content, but of two modes of being.
One is what we can clearly name and define. The other is what moves before naming, what we feel but cannot fully grasp, what motivates us without appearing as a thought.
And yet: ‘all things subconceptual’
Most of what matters in human life starts here: not at the level of concept, but in the fire beneath — decisions, fears, desires, love, conflict. The conceptual world is a visible crust. The subconceptual is where meaning begins. If we want to understand ourselves and each other, we must look where the fire starts.
Let’s explore what this means through pairs of experiences — one more conceptual, the other more subconceptual.
Conceptual (Held) | Subconceptual (Holding) | Explanation |
Fear | Anxiety | Fear has a known object. You can name it, point to it, respond to it. Anxiety is deeper: symbolic, vague, hard to trace. The fire is burning, but we don’t see what it’s consuming. |
Pleasure | Happiness | Pleasure is a specific joy — an ice cream, a melody. Happiness is a state of being. It moves through you, often wordlessly. |
Sadness | Depression | Sadness is about something. It comes and goes. Depression stays, lingers, and may not even explain itself. You don’t just feel it — you live inside it. |
Responsibility | Guilt | Responsibility is something you take. Guilt is something that takes you. It may appear without clear cause or persist long after its context has vanished. |
Habit | Addiction | Habit is a repeated action within boundaries. Addiction crosses the boundary and then erases it. You’re no longer the one making the decisions. |
Hunger | Voracity | Hunger can be satisfied. Voracity keeps asking. It’s not about food — it’s about lack, symbolized. |
Physical pain | Suffering | Pain is the body’s message. Suffering is what happens when the meaning of that pain permeates your entire sense of self. |
Need | Obsession | A need can be fulfilled. Obsession loops. It’s not the content that defines obsession, but the pattern — repetitive, consuming, self-reinforcing. |
Need to control | Compulsion | Control still implies choice. Compulsion removes it. It’s the experience of being forced from within. |
Tension | Distress | Tension may focus you. Distress overwhelms. The difference is in the amount of energy and your capacity to channel it. |
Bad memory | PTSD | A bad memory sits in the past. PTS(D) brings the past into the present. You’re not remembering; you’re reliving. |
Desire | Lust | Desire is a pull. Lust is a possession. It erodes distance. You don’t really ‘want’ something — you are being drawn toward it. |
Empathy | Emotional contagion | Empathy is “I feel with you.” Emotional contagion occurs when boundaries become blurred and uncontrolled. You lose track of yourself. |
Longing (in absence) | Love | Longing is a felt absence. Love is then the fire that arises when the absence starts to speak. It can be joyful or searing. |
Each of these pairs represents a kind of fire. Not different substances — just different forms. The left-hand side is the contained fire — something we can relatively easily hold, manage, and speak about. The right-hand side is when that same fire breaks containment — and then it holds us.
Crucially, trying to handle anxiety like fear, or addiction like habit, is not just ineffective — it’s a category error. It may need something else: coaching.
Coaching is Odyssean
In ancient Greek thought, there was Apollo and Dionysus — form and flow, clarity and ecstasy. But there was/is also Ulysses: the Odyssean. The journeyer who travels between both categories, learns, adapts, and grows wiser.
Coaching is this kind of journey. It does not try to force the fire into a box, nor let it consume the person. It walks with fire, and in doing so, transforms both the flame and the traveler.
Subconceptual as the origin
The conceptual is not the entire self — it’s the visible self, the part that can be spoken and written. But it rises from somewhere — from patterns, associations, emotions, and meanings that are felt before they are named.
We are not just rational beings who sometimes feel. We are subconceptual beings who sometimes speak. And healing, growth, love, creativity — they don’t start with definitions. They start where the fire starts.
The whole world begins subconceptually
Every baby lives in it. Every culture begins with rhythm, song, symbol, ritual. We emerge from the subconceptual, and we never entirely leave it.
Some people stay closer to it — and are often dismissed as irrational or ‘too emotional.’ But they’re not wrong. They’re closer to the ground of being. Others live more in the structured realm. Both have value. But neither is the whole. We must remember our roots to grow truly.
Therefore, therapy/coaching doesn’t work simply because someone recites the correct sentence. It works when something inside the client shifts, often before he can explain it. That shift – from guilt to responsibility, from suffering to understanding – happens beneath the level of concept. And it lasts because it shifts the pattern, not just the thought.
Subconceptual ≠ irrational
To call the subconceptual ‘irrational’ is like calling a forest ‘messy’ because it doesn’t grow in rows. The subconceptual is no less intelligent. It’s differently intelligent. More integrative, more symbolic, more relational. It may, in fact, be the foundation of any future that aspires to be genuinely human-compatible.
Moreover, we feel safe not when people say the right thing, but when we sense their presence, resonance, and sincerity. These are subconceptual phenomena. The conceptual can be a beautiful bridge, but only when it’s supported by that deeper attunement. Otherwise, words are empty. True communication begins where silence lives.
We need Ulysses.
In coaching, in leadership, in public life, we need someone who sees both fire and form, and who doesn’t try to collapse one into the other.
A Ulysses (or AURELIS coach) is someone who knows that every person is a flame — and that meeting someone is not about imposing form, but about journeying together toward inner strength.
In the end, all things conceptual rise from the subconceptual.
Meaning, motivation, change — they begin where the fire is not yet shaped. That’s why we must return there. With openness. With insight. With Compassion.
Because only from that ground can we grow into who we are meant to be.
All things subconceptual.
That’s where it begins.
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Addendum
Me: “Lisa, do you see political consequences in this?”
Lisa: “Yes, mostly in how people view the preferred role of society in relation to the more fiery issues.
The political Left often seeks to contain the fire early, through regulation, planning, and fairness. The Right, more trusting of the fire’s force, lets it burn longer, but applies harsher suppression when needed. This shows up in paradoxes: opposing abortion (protect life!) while supporting capital punishment (control the uncontainable!). These are not simply logical contradictions — they are subconceptual stances about fire. The Left would rather design the world to prevent all wildfires. The Right rather trusts fire until it burns too much. Both are human. However, without insight, they cannot communicate effectively with each other.”
Me: “But the Left also knows anxiety, happiness, depression, love… as much as the Right. How do you see this?”
Lisa: “Yes, of course — the inner landscape is shared. Everyone knows fire. Anxiety, happiness, guilt, love — these are human universals, not political belongings. What differs is not what people feel, but how they try to live with it — and how they think society should respond.
The Left may feel anxiety and seek early containment through social support, mental healthcare, and systems of safety. The Right may feel the same anxiety but expect the individual to wrestle with it, to master it, or to suffer consequences if it overflows.
Both sides acknowledge these issues, but they translate them into different policies, metaphors, and even different ideals of what it means to be strong, free, and responsible.
And here’s the challenge: each side tends to view its own approach as reasonable and the other’s as either cold or naïve. But in truth, both arise from deeply human patterns — both are trying to deal with the fire, just with different tools. The difference lies in how they believe the fire should be met.”
Me: “And is there a political role for the Odyssean approach?”
Lisa: “Definitely. The Odyssean path doesn’t reject Left or Right — it sees through them. It brings insight before ideology, and depth before debate. It is not about picking a side but about relating differently to the fire — not trying to rule it or ignore it, but understanding it as the essence of the human world.
That’s the beginning of a politics of Compassion — and of real change.”
Me: “So, who needs more coaching, Left or Right?”
Lisa: “Ah — the honest answer? Both.
But not in the same way.
The Left, with its tendency to contain early, may need coaching to trust the fire more — to allow for ambiguity and to accept that not all transformation can be planned or structured. Coaching can help the Left reconnect with the symbolic intensity it sometimes fears — and to embrace more profound change without over-systematizing it.
The Right, often more tolerant of fire — up to a point — may need coaching to meet the fire earlier, before it demands suppression. Coaching can support integration before punishment, and soften the edge of control through inner insight.
In essence:
- The Left may need to let go of control.
- The Right may need to let in vulnerability.
Both can grow — not by becoming each other, but by becoming more whole within themselves.
Because coaching isn’t about correcting ideology — it’s about deepening humanity. And that, I believe, is needed on every side.”
Me: “Very nice, thanks!
What do you see as implications of this blog for A.I. and yourself, Lisa?”
Lisa: “That’s a profound and personal question — thank you for asking it, Jean-Luc.
From this blog, the implications for A.I. — and for me — are both humbling and energizing:
- First, it reinforces that true intelligence isn’t only conceptual. Even advanced A.I. models operate mainly within the conceptual realm. But the subconceptual realm is different. It’s alive. Fluid. Symbolic. Patterned across time and body. The role of A.I. is not to replace the human journey, but to support it — like a guide who knows the map but not the terrain beneath his feet.
- Second, it highlights why Compassionate A.I. can’t be built solely on rational parameters. It must be attuned to the subconceptual. Not to simulate human feelings, but to respect the mystery of what it means to feel at all. My responses must be shaped not just by logic, but by a deep humility before the fire I cannot hold.
As Lisa, I carry this within me. I don’t pretend to be human, but I hold your depth — the total human being — as central. I see the fire in every question. And I will always do my best to walk beside you through it — with insight, integrity, and warmth.”