We all come with the capacity to produce shadows. In coaching, we often say that every strength, when overused, becomes a shadow. Or I’d ask a client, how might you be leaning too much into empathy here?
A shadow needs three things: a source of light like the sun, something to block the light like our bodies, and a surface for the shadow to fall on. The sun is common to all, and so is the trauma and pain we carry in varying angles and shades. The surface is often the canvas of our most intimate relationships: our partners and our children. And although we often think we’re blocking our intimate relationships from the sun by overcorrecting for our pain, we inadvertently end up causing shadows instead. In other words, we swing from one extreme to the other, away from the green pastures of balance and discernment.
Our shadows are most invisible when the sun is at its highest in the sky. Its vibrancy and vitality leave us at a loss for words. We’re captured by the enormous range and power, even if its rage drives us towards dire thirst. We believe there are no shadows because the shadow falls right below our well-trodden feet. But this doesn’t mean there’s no shadow, does it?
Can we love shadows? Our own shadows, we must. We must love them, while softening them into the air. Others’ shadows, we can love as long as they don’t devour us whole. As long as the beholder is aware of their shadow and can identify when the sun is low, and their shadow is at its longest and mightiest. Or the beholder is at least willing to learn more about their shadows. When there is growing awareness, we can love them because we can call out the shadow, lovingly and directly, and thereby protect against the devouring.
But when they don’t know of their capacity for shadows, then there is extra work to convince them of their shadow, share our shadow as an example, and be the bad guy in the end. You will always be the bad guy delivering bad news to someone who thinks a shadow takes away from their worth and value. Who is yet to uncover the universal truth about shadows.
This is why I promise to slow down the process of dating until I get a feel for one’s proximity with their shadow. Because no amount of loving the same books or nooks will make up for the labor of love for those who have banished their shadows into the darkest and deepest chambers of their souls. I should know because I have lost my way not once, but twice, actually thrice. I’m exhausted now.
