What Not Having Mental Imagery Implies for Psychoanalysis, Trauma, and Our Sense of Self

My absence of images does not foreclose imagination. Images can impose themselves—in dreams, in flashes—nor does it eliminate attachment or feeling, though it may alter their texture. There is, perhaps, something to be said for a degree of blurriness in memory: a softening of edges that allows one to forgive others, and oneself. (I also eventually remembered more in psychoanalysis.) But this raises an unsettling question: If much of what we take to be memory, selfhood, even desire is bound up with images—what happens when those images are not there?

I was thinking: I wish there was a yoga equivalent for feelings, but maybe that is therapy?