“If we insist that we have no shadow behaviors, we are denying that we are ever impatient, jealous, angry, fearful, envious, dishonest, bossy, judgemental, controlling, manipulative, or critical. All human beings are as responsible for their light as well as their shadow, and without recognizing both parts of ourselves we cannot heal.” Jamie Sams – Dancing the Dream
Denial isn’t one of my bigger pitfalls. But learning how my shadow can be medicine is another story. As obvious as others’ imbalances may be to me, I usually puzzle over my own. Example: “Why in the heck am I so ridiculously nasty impatient, race car driver maniac behind the wheel and so patient everywhere else?” I’m KNOWN by my friends and family, anyone who has ever been in my car while I’m behind the wheel. Known as the nascar nasty shoulda-been-a-career-driver. I don’t just drive like a demon. I do it well. (Knock on wood, fast!) But the thought of spending my life going in a fast car on a perpetual left-turn journey with fumes spewing into the air doesn’t appeal to me. No, I’d rather be on a perpetual left-turn journey through this shadowland, spewing nasty vibes behind the wheel of my car, clueless as to why. Cough.
Nature and “happenstance” are speaking to me more clearly lately. Sitting on the couch, talking with my daughter, looking out the window just in time to see a hawk swoop down low, only a couple feet from the ground. I know life is speaking. I get behind the wheel and I witness myself from the inside out. What have I learned? When the will is not actively engaged in acts uniquely important to the individual, the frustration comes out. Somewhere. Somehow. Me? In my car.
So, how do I know this? Well, the demon-driving has improved. I’m doing things I absolutely must do for me. And the list of “absolutely must” is more detailed and lengthy than it ever was before. But I admit. I will always wrestle rather extreme control-freak tendencies I suppress perpetually. They will have their say down shadow lane in a car with a redheaded dame asking the driver beyond if he would like to wait for the car coming from China, too. It just is what it is. It’s gross. But it keeps me awake to what I’m not swooping down on, scooping up for my sustenance (preferably nothing rodent-like). And shadow drivers find their path, too, beyond the frustrating obstructions and into the sunlight.
On. With. It.