Have you ever felt like you're playing a cosmic game of hide and seek with parts of your very essence, wandering through the rich mystery of your soul as if it were a puzzle to be solved? Imagine this: it's as though we're sometimes paralyzed by the very core of our being. Envision every moment we shy away from, belittle, or sprint away from our authentic selves, we're essentially building a fortress crafted from our fears. In this peculiar twist of fate, we end up overlooking the luminous strengths within us that could serve as our guiding stars through the night. Isn't it a curious paradox?
The abilities we sideline because they seem too mighty or too intense are precisely the ones that could navigate us through the maze of our own personal haunted houses. It's akin to being apprehensive of the shadow we cast under the moon's glow—not because it's inherently ominous, but because we haven't fully embraced and understood it.
Fear, in its essence, is like a door abruptly slammed on the visage of any experience that seeks to stir our souls. And by keeping that door firmly closed, the shadow—much like a tale's forgotten monster—might just grow a will of its own and decide to come knocking. It reminds me of those tales where society's outcasts finally turn the tables when left ignored for far too long. Yet, if we pivot and face the music, acknowledging the shadow can unfurl like discovering a chest brimming with treasures we never knew we possessed.
Picture realizing that within every characteristic we evade, there's a hidden side teeming with untapped potential. It's like uncovering that our apprehension of anger could lead us to a realm of powerful, yet measured passion. Where love flings open doors, fear endeavors to seal them shut. Have you noticed how anything exceedingly grand or monumental casts a vast, intimidating shadow, making it seem daunting to embrace? There's wisdom in observing how the sage figures of history and myth have faced their shadows—not through combat or submission but by engaging with them wholeheartedly.
Consider the sage who wanders the wilderness, not falling prey to the darkness but engaging in profound dialogue with it. Or think of our Ancestors and Ancestresses, who adorned themselves with masks and danced, transforming fear into a force of empowerment and sustainability. It's all about acknowledging the duality of existence, understanding that every shadowy corner has its counterpart of brilliance. When we leave aspects of ourselves unexplored, they cast elongated shadows over our lives, becoming wellsprings of fear and fixation.
The villains captivate us because they manifest the parts of ourselves we haven't acknowledged. Our fixations are often intricate dances with these shadows—think of Jekyll and Hyde, Asar and Set, representing the dual facets of existence. What we bury doesn't simply remain hidden; it yearns to rise, demanding recognition. Embracing our shadow isn't akin to slaying dragons but rather resembles a masterful game of chess. It's about inclusion, not exclusion. By recognizing and integrating all facets of our being, we dissolve their dominion over us. To ignore our shadow is to stroll past a treasure chest without ever realizing its existence, overlooking the wealth it holds.
Our discomfort with our own shadows elucidates why we're swift to pass judgment, to engage in conflict, to cast blame elsewhere. It's a poignant irony that the very aspects of ourselves we fail to recognize are those we project onto others, morphing them into the phantoms of our apprehensions.
Take Heru, for example, who's profoundly disturbed by the devastation of our planet. His struggle isn't solely with environmental calamities but also with a personal shadow stemming from his own life's tales. It's simpler for him to pour his energy into a noble endeavor than to confront the scars of his past. Yet, the path to true healing and impactful activism is through confronting these shadows, channeling fevered passion into precise action. Our shadow reaches deep within us, where fear lurks, much like in Heru's case.
Ever wonder why animals frequently emerge as guides in our myths? They operate from a place of instinct, a connection many of us have drifted away from. Befriending our shadow involves diving into that abyss of fear, learning from it, and emerging armed with the bravery to face the full spectrum of who we are. Acknowledging our darker side isn't merely an act of valor; it becomes our shield and our compass, illuminating the way towards the light amid the darkness.
ASE