The Shadow

The crisp morning air. The bright blue sky, almost a periwinkle of sorts. Big white puffy clouds. The sun shines different in the fall. It’s golden, it’s warm, it’s comforting. The trees changing their colors, and releasing their no longer needed leaves. A wisp of confetti floating around and celebrating the act of letting go. Something about this time of year just feels different. 

The days start to shorten. The energy starts to head inward and we feel this sense of retreat. Almost as if we must gather what we need because something is coming on the horizon. There’s a small sense of anxiety, but we create rituals to help ease those feelings out. 

We harvest our abundance from the summer. Picking out all the great moments and soaking them in. Hoping to take that joy with us into our winter slumber. But no matter how much we gather. No matter how much goodness we try to soak up, we are still met with the shadow.

Darkness rolls in this time of year. We set back the clocks and now our long lit up nights become what feels like the never ending abyss. And within the darkness, lies all the shadows. Creeping up and oozing out. Some of these shadows feel like old friends and some are these new foreign objects that have somehow morphed them selves here. Some come in disguises that we have to look at real closely with a magnifying glass, deciphering who and what they are. But even if we remember them, sometimes we’re not always looking forward to this reunion. 

These shadows often linger and follow us for quite sometime. Which almost starts to become predictable. And in that knowing, there lies some comfort. This sense of ease that you know what lies beneath. You know what happens next. There’s safety in the discomfort, in the shadows, and in the dark. It’s like having expectations. You’re already prepared or what feels like protected. 

We can look at the shadow like a protector part. A part of us that has nothing but good intentions, but comes off misunderstood. My shadow has never purposely wanted to harm me, but taught me to remain in the background because the unknown had unanswered questions. What comes after the horizon? What will it feel like there? Who will be there and who won’t? Am I worthy enough of seeing the beyond?

My shadow and I have a conversation. A small cup of tea together. I invite them in to my world, instead of them showing up unannounced. We sit between two spaces, one that is bright and ethereal. Lots of trees and green, sparkling waters and warmth. While the other feels like the entrance into a spooky forest you read about in children’s books. We sit and talk about ourselves. Our wants and needs, and I let my shadow feel seen. I let my shadow tell me what its job is. What it feels it needs to do for me and what it’s been doing all along. I hear them out. I let them speak. And when they finally become tired of hearing themselves ramble. I say, thank you. 

Thank you for all you’ve done for me. For your love and protection. For caring for me and being there when I thought no one else was. You have been a better companion to me than most. And I’m so sorry I made you the enemy. You have only ever wanted what was best for me. To shield me from any harm or harshness in this world. And I am so grateful for your gifts. But I relinquish you from this duty. You no longer have to be my knight in shining armor. But I do have one question? Will you be my friend?