The Shadow
often conjures up less than positive images of us and others -- whether
in terms of active expression or potential. Darkness carries that kind
of bias in our psyche - perhaps a unique and quite human quality. My
guess is that there are no other species that literally fear the dark,
as opposed to a distinctive scent or sound that give clear evidence
of a bona fide, embodied threat. Other beings, in fact, seem to seek
refuge in the dark as opposed to from the dark. It may
be that our separation from nature and our discovery of fire have freed
us from sharing in this common creature comfort, rather than offering
us any net gain to our sense of well-being.
To be sure, a good flame was handy in warding off a marauding cave
bear or other predator in the night, but we seem to have evolved into
having made a habit of its use even when the beast has moved on. As
a consequence, we anticipate danger in far more expansive waves of vigilance
and symbolic presence. Our metaphors of light and dark reveal themselves
in surprisingly universal ways. Coming out of the darkness and into
the light is considered to be the epitome of both progress and security.
Delving into the darkness - let alone feeling at ease in it - is synonymous
with degeneration, peril, and The Fall.
Yet, paradoxically, some of our most enlightening, intimate, and even
romantic moments occur in the dark; moments when we actively shun the
light for a closer union with all that comes with the twilight. The
period between waking and sleeping also involves a transition in consciousness
that can be a time of great insight. Although there is the obvious dichotomy
of the known and the vastly immeasurable unknown, a Light (good) vs.
Shadow (evil) dichotomy seems to me both artificially polarizing and
contradictory. The question that emerges, then, is what makes up this
conflictive relationship we have with Shadow, and how does it play out
in our lives?
At least partly at play here, perhaps, is that having moved outside
the warm boundaries of deep nature, we may, consequently, experience
ourselves as being out in the cold, struggling to make sense of the
primal part of us left behind. Additionally, Shadow has been eternally
potent in our psyche because of our unique ability to imagine. We certainly
have a knack for constructing a decidedly dynamic inner world far more
expansive and multidimensional than any mutually-agreed-upon reality.
This freewheeling creativity is most expressed in our dream state, which
has prompted intense wonder and self-speculation as far back as our
earliest depictions of dreams on cave walls. The combined elements of
a boundless unknown, the insecurity of separation at the most basic
level, and our remarkable talent of imagination contribute to creating
the most mysterious and challenging of frontiers - that of our own authentic
self.
If we conclude Shadow exists in and of itself and contains that which
is contrary to life and well-being, we are manifestly locked into nervously
watching out for it - in ourselves and all too often in others - or
retreating from it. If, however, rather than being intrinsically ominous,
Shadow is simply our unknown possibility, then it is totally dependent
on what we individually or collectively "expect" of it. Consequently,
Shadow is what "might" be there, lurking, which gives us pause
far more than what is there. As a blank slate with troublesome undertones,
it can prompt our imagination to fill in the space with our most disturbing
images. When the shadow surrenders the form contained within it, more
often than not we find it has been of our own making.
That there exists cruelty and malice in the real world is certainly
true. Ignorance and fear can stumble into great cruelty and adversity.
This doesn't mean, however, that ignorance "is" cruelty and
adversity by design, but that it profoundly undermines our consciously
owned choice to recognize and avoid them. Our fears and insecurities
are allowed too much latitude to misrepresent our actions and deny personal
ownership and responsibility.
Generalized, undifferentiated fear is the most distressing and debilitating
kind, and the most likely to result in highly unpredictable, reactionary
behavior. The energy of fear distorts reality in fundamental ways that
create a trance-like state of experiencing interactions with others.
It can misconstrue harmful pre-emptive acts toward others, for example,
as justifiable defensive acts against imminent harm to us. Mixing the
energy of fear and a perceived negative character of the unknown can
produce a blindness to reason and a vulnerability, often open to exploitation.
We see this increasingly in our world today as toxic, divisive concepts
of "Us" and "Them" are actively promoted and institutionalized,
while appreciation for diversity, individual human rights, and the sanctity
of life is discredited.
Certainly there are instances when revealing what's hidden can be troubling,
even terrifying. As therapists we know that in healing trauma it is
the revealing and reframing that reclaim our essential power and sense
of healthy connection to the world. One of the most meaningful roles
a therapist can play is in the willingness to enter the darkness with
a person and stay with them until their natural, intuitive sense of
trust, security, and belonging emerges.
With this comes the revelation of the shadow - or the light if you
will - bringing the size, the weight, and the context of what is revealed
in relation to all else that is also reality. Healing can then take
a natural course, and, just as important, vital learning occurs that
says the lack of knowledge and understanding is qualitatively and quantitatively
more the problem than what the shadow contains.
Coming to terms with our shadow, then, becomes more a quest to shed
the light of understanding on both the unknown and on our most intimate
insecurities. While at the beginning of this quest we may experience
feeling lost and adrift in the unknown, we do have a deep-felt connection
with the rumblings of our most intense insecurities; rumblings that
can take on megaphone proportions the deeper we venture. If they are
perceived as warnings of impending danger, they can keep us perpetually
off balance and at bay from our authentic selves. If, however, they
are recognized as our own inner voice struggling to speak out our most
fundamental truth, they can be vital guides along the way to making
sense of our existence. The source of these internal echoes is invariably
smaller, less threatening, and more understandable after emerging into
full view rather than when the shadow takes up all the space of the
vastly imagined "possible" reality.
The most helpful guideline may be that Shadow is not any established
quality, quantity, or entity. Shadow is simply what is not known; and
on the most elemental level, not known about ourselves. Because we're
supposed to know more about ourselves than anyone else does, a shadow
within us is understandably most disconcerting. Yet if we can collectively
muster up enough trust, heart, and spirit to overcome this apprehensive
self-consciousness, we may yet find our way back into harmony with our
inner world, and along the way, with each other.
Steve Olweean
Perspective magazine, October 2003
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