What is denial? That invisible impenetrable wall against feeling, unmoved by the urgings of reason, emotion, conscience, love or pain…
A form of willful blindness? Of ostracism? Banishment from awareness?
No. It is much stealthier than that, creeping up like nature’s hand upon the throat, muting responsiveness in the face of sometimes passionate resistance, a denial we mistake for equanimity when it is really the megaphone of our own silent authority drowning out all opposition and whose effect is nothing short of devastating.
Denial has no choice.
Like a blindspot. When eyes that are open perceive yet cannot see the light or the spot denied light. They just see what they see, manifesting as the oil and canvas of our own mis-givings.