The problem is when I find myself getting in the way of even the parts I call “me”. The joy of helping someone, or for that matter, the sadness of death—these emotions that I judge right and proper, which must be me if anything is me—I don’t want those feelings diminished.
You spoke of wrong emotions going away when you stared directly at them and saw them for what they were, but not of what happens if you do this with right emotions, only expressed the fear that they would also go away. Have you tried the experiment?
ETA: I notice that you wrote Harry Potter’s clear perception of reality and of his ideals as both strengthening his Patronus and vanquishing the Dementor.
ETA2: There ought to be a version of the Medusa legend in which, when a hero with sufficiently clear perception looks at it, it turns to stone.
You spoke of wrong emotions going away when you stared directly at them and saw them for what they were, but not of what happens if you do this with right emotions, only expressed the fear that they would also go away. Have you tried the experiment?
ETA: I notice that you wrote Harry Potter’s clear perception of reality and of his ideals as both strengthening his Patronus and vanquishing the Dementor.
ETA2: There ought to be a version of the Medusa legend in which, when a hero with sufficiently clear perception looks at it, it turns to stone.