The other in their stubborn irreducibility pushes back at me and limits my value or power. Their attention encapsulates me within bounds that I learn to identify with. Believing myself to be just so much and no more, to be the being delimited by this objective and public body. The other mirrors back to me the knowledge that I am my body, and I take this in a more severe sense than is meant when I view them as being only their body, since less is unknown in here. The idea of the other becomes the source of all kinds of problems that need to be solved, with half-achieved victories, with a realm of ongoing intrigue and mystery, with deliberations which draw me in to strong emotions and metabolic changes. At least four of the deadly sins are social in this sense, pride, envy, anger and lust, so that, as consciousness of sin is directed towards myself and my inability to control my own mind, the problematic is turned inwards, the nub of darkness comes to reside in my own depths. This is progress of a sort, the other is now what remains after all projections are owned.