Shadows

and self

I always get excited when Richard Rohr writes about the shadow self. I subscribe to his daily newsletter, which is always at least thought-provoking and sometimes quite inspiring. He began the shadow series yesterday and it’s been on my mind since. This morning, another installment, which has clearly informed my own thoughts and now my work here.

I suppose the subject of a shadow self is always interesting to me. How do we learn to cover up parts of who we are? And why? I could go for days/weeks/months on this one. Plainly put, most of us learn at very early ages to hide the parts of ourselves which may be considered less than acceptable, less than average, less than desirable, and in some cases even those things which are in some way extraordinary because they have the potential to make others uncomfortable. We learn to get along.

But at what price does that rounding off of our edges come? What do we give up to live through a persona?

I can’t think about this without almost immediately thinking about show business. People who are in the public eye are almost always expected to present an idealized image — one that’s glossed over, one that doesn’t need anything from anyone but applause (if that), one that doesn’t, in fact, hurt. That sort of situation, or agreement with the world, creates a lot of friction in a person. No one likes to have to hide parts of themselves. And beyond that discomfort lies a world of deeper and darker corners — the parts that are deemed unpalatable are pushed there and we become ashamed of them. Shame is, in my opinion, the most damaging emotion. It ruins things. It makes people live in ways that can’t possibly do anything but lead them to some sort of destruction or another. How many times have we seen someone completely spiral out and surprise us with all they’ve been repressing? The shadows, when unattended, roll over the light.

Some relationships are show business.

I’ve been in a few of those.

And I think I was in those relationships because I hadn’t learned how to stand up for myself and who I’ve always known I am — a complex creature who delights in the progress of the climbing roses in the back courtyard as much as knowing which electric guitar pickups are on my Gretsch Sparkle Jet — a woman who is happy spending time alone with a book, some writing, or some handwork to do and not talking all day as well as flying across the Atlantic for a tour that requires me to be my most extroverted self. There have been times when I lost touch with some of my own favorite qualities because they weren’t only not supported but even looked down upon. Those deeper and darker corners are familiar to me. And they’re full of grief and yes, shame. Conditional love isn’t really love at all. Why, just because I’m comfortable at a rock club, should I not be allowed at the garden club as well? Too much? Too confusing? Why, as a child, was I encouraged to be precocious but never acknowledged for making good grades? Too smart? Did I ask too many questions or look up too many words in the dictionary? It’s not necessarily about hiding things that are considered wrong in the big scheme — the shadow self can be made up of things that just don’t “go” with someone else’s idea of who they’d like you to be.

I wonder — why is it always a surprise when we find out people are more multi-faceted than they first appeared to us? What does that say about us? What does that say about what we want from others?

These questions always lead to more questions. But I suppose as long as we’re asking them we’re on the right track. To what? I don’t know — needed realizations? Peace? Maybe.

I’m looking forward to digging further into this. Happy Monday, y’all.

Sending love everywhere,

AM