Both paths, pressed, arrive at the same quiet answer to “how does the inner actually work?” Not through argument. Through feeling.
Neville was blunt about it: feeling is the secret. The assumption takes not because you recite the words of the wish but because you feel it as already so — the body’s settled “yes,” not the mind’s hopeful case. A state you only think about, you have not yet entered.
Jung came at feeling from the other side. The contents of the unconscious are “feeling-toned”: an image has power exactly to the degree that it moves you. A dream you can dissect coolly hasn’t yet done its work; the one that grips you, unsettles you, warms you — that one is alive, and worth staying with.
So feeling is the common tongue of the imaginal. To shape a state or to read one, you follow the feeling, not the commentary. This isn’t drama or mood-chasing; it is the plain, embodied sense that something is real. Learn to find that sense, and both paths open.
Recall your wish, or a live dream image. Drop out of thinking about it and into feeling it in the body for a full minute.
Where in the body did the feeling settle — and what did it seem to know?