The Intimacy of Facing Shadow and Death
In February of 2021, I was eager to bring my Drawing into Trauma series to completion. After two plus years and 111 images, I was weary of mucking around in the angst of healing. I longed for an expansion of creativity in new directions. So I felt relieved, when this particular piece birthed forth rapidly, in a frenzy of motion that left little room for thinking. Finally, a drawing arose from my subconscious which was not about wounds. But when I turned the image vertically and examined it closely, I realized something more intense had emerged instead. Healing ventured into an even more daunting realm than trauma.
When I was young, I read all of Carlos Castanada's books (as well as books written by women cohorts) about his teacher, Don Juan Matus. Don Juan referred to death as always lurking behind one's left shoulder. One could turn towards death as an ally, and receive guidance from it. This drawing takes that powerful advice several steps closer. It portrays death as a figurative form, and depicts a face to face relationship with its shrouded persona. Light shines and energy flows from the intimacy forged through this bond. Paradoxically, the more one opens to shadow, to death; the greater one’s capacity for fullness of living. Cultivating this compassionate relationship with one's shadow, enables an embodiment of that which is worthy and true. Leaning into and increasing comfort with that which has been denied or disowned, is an act of power and grace. It takes courage and dedication to reap the healing benefit that eventually arises out of this shadow work. But the unknown is here always. It is never too late to begin, or begin again.
The healing practice that I most recommend, entails simply placing your hands on your body, wherever there is subtle discomfort or overt pain. Just listen and attend kindly, instead of pushing emotion and sensation away. Things held repeatedly in this quiet presence, will eventually unravel themselves.
In his book Owning Your Own Shadow, Robert Johnson says: “There is, however, a broader kind of creativity that folds the darkness into the finished product and finds fulfillment in the shadow. This is pure genius. Its attributes are wholeness, health, and holiness. We are also talking about sainthood in the original meaning of the word — a full-blooded embracing of our own humanity, not a one-sided goodness that has no vitality or life.”
I had not been aware of how much vital lifeforce remained locked up in that which I had been unable or unwilling to face. It feels intimidating to venture into these unknown frightening realms of self. The benefits however, are well worth the hardship. We all have forgotten fragments of self, which were too overwhelming to reconcile when young. Back then, disowning these parts supported our survival. Facing that which has been abandoned, facilitates a revival of unrecognized assets and strengths. In harnessing vitality that has been compartmentalized in the shadow, one uncovers a peace of the whole.