Shadowlands

It feels like a lid has been lifted on a hidden cess pool; in so many places across our world, a light is being shone into the collective shadow to reveal the very worst of what humans are capable of. So many of those in power and in corporate business appear to be sociopathic, narcissistic, greed ridden, power hunger (and worse), and the pain and suffering in our world – evident in the horrors of Gaza, Sudan, Iran, Ukraine, the US and other places – continue without very much outrage or action from our political institutions. It is left to those folks at the grass roots – everyday people who are distressed and horrified by what they are witnessing – to stand up and be counted in a way our political systems appear unable, or unwilling, to do. It is the everyday folks who are displaying a courage and vision that our politicians lack.

There are so many occasions over recent years when I have felt sick to my stomach at the injustices that happen without consequence. A moral compass appears absent in our power structures, corporations, and in world politics, regardless of where people stand on the political spectrum. Shadow work – whether collective or personal – takes courage and honesty, and it is these qualities that we so desperately need in a world of political and corporate duplicity and corruption.

As well as courage and honesty, shadow work takes compassion and the strength to not lose sight of hope; it takes a regular checking in with the real reason for shadow work, which is healing and integration of energies that have become banished, distorted and wounded. It means recognising both the tyrant and the victim within, that these do not become projected out into our world in destructive ways or materialising in cruelty and meanness. Shadow work is the work of regaining and retaining our humanity in the face of ignorance, pain and denial. In short, it is not easy.

Given all that is happening, Imbolc has felt particularly poignant this year. The snowdrop is such a symbol of delicate but powerful strength in the face of adversity, such a hopeful little flower. It is giving me the strength to not be consumed by all that is happening.

At Imbolc and for the season of Imbolc – which for me is the entire time from Imbolc to the Spring Equinox – I honour the Goddess Bride and the God Angus. In Scottish mythology, they are linked with Beira, the Cailleach of Winter, and the relationship between them plays out in the eternal cycles of the seasonal year. The Cailleach is said to keep Bride captive in her cave during winter until she is released in the spring, bringing fertility and growth back to the land. In some stories, Angus is the son of Beira, who falls in love with Bride and aids her escape. Bride and Angus are deities of the summer months; of renewal and youthfulness, and the rebirth of hope.

In Irish myth, Angus is Aengus Óg, the son of Boann and Dagda, and is a god of love, youth, poetry and music. These qualities are also present in his Scottish incarnation, for me at least, and I am particularly fond of the story that birds are said to flutter around Angus’ head; these sweet singing birds are said to be his kisses, and draw love from all that hear their song.

In my Imbolc ritual to Bride and Angus this year, I pondered the importance of reconnecting with the youthful qualities of optimism, joy and hope, especially now. As we age, we can perhaps become a little world weary, a little rigid or stuck in our ways. If we have been truly wounded by life, bitterness or an emotional brittleness can rob us of our ability to be flexible and open to life and love; if we ever feel this happening to ourselves, it can be so valuable to remember our own youthful excitement and curiosity, our capacity to love life and believe in our dreams and visions as instruments for beauty and goodness. It is no coincidence that we honour these qualities of beauty, poetry, of dreams, visions and hope at Imbolc, even when the harshness of winter and the darkness is still very much with us. We dream, we create beauty, we love, despite – and even because – of the darkness, the cold, the cruelty because our humanity thrives in that hopeful, shining space that Imbolc so beautiful celebrates: these qualities keep the darkness from taking over perpetually.

Music, poetry, stories, song, dance, art, cooking, gardening, caring for others, every creative act performed with love – these are Bride and Angus’ gifts to us, and their power is greater than hatred, greed, divisive power grabs or the toxic narcissism of broken leaders and morally bankrupt systems. In the creative flame lies the spark of new visions, new ways to be, new ways to understand, new ways to relate to each other with kindness and with the joyful recognition of all that unifies us.

In these dark times, Imbolc encourages us to hold on to our hope; it is where true healing resides; it is the guiding light in the shadowlands.

The Waters of Life

What we put into the waters of life go everywhere. ~ Phyllis Curott

I heard this great quote from Phyllis Curott on her Instagram account this morning and it really got me thinking about my own emotional hygiene; how well – or badly – I tend my emotions. I have been setting aside ten minutes every day to do a body scan exercise, simply focusing my attention briefly on every part of my body in turn, from my toes to the top of my head, in an attempt to help regulate my nervous system and shift me away from spending so much time in fight or flight. I have also been performing a yoga breath technique every day too.

Both have been enormously helpful exercises – I have turned to them many times in my life but I had gotten out of the habit, and re-engaging has illustrated, yet again, the value of engaging with our para-sympathetic nervous system on the daily. After three weeks of these practices, I can feel the change in my body; that background anxiety – like an idling engine pumping out toxic emotional fumes – is less present in my day, and my body feels so much more comfortable and safe.

Phyllis’s quote made me think of how our emotional state not only impacts on our own health and well-being, but of how it can also breech the boundary of our inner life like unwelcome and destructive flood waters, seeping out into the lives of others. I have been guilty of this in my own life many times, I am sorry to say. I am currently around it in the actions of a person close to me, and this has been a valuable lesson for me in reminding myself of the importance of regularly checking in with the way I am handling my emotions.

I suspect we have all known folks who dominate a room with their emotional stuff: the angry complainers; the emotional manipulators; the gossips; the litanies of ills and grievances, those weirdly one-way conversations where we get the sense that someone is talking at us, not with us. It can feel very draining. I also suspect that this way of communicating is fueled by a deeper, more hidden need. Sometimes this is a desire for love and attention that can so often prove counterproductive: most folks dread being on the receiving end of this kind of psychological dumping.  

We all need love when we are going through tough times; we all need a supportive listening ear to bear witness to our pain and struggle; we all need good advice from a valued friend –  but, we also have a responsibility to ourselves, to recognize when we are not tending our own emotions in healthy and self-loving ways, and how this – if we do it habitually – can poison the waters for others. What we put out into the world impacts the whole, and so being mindful of the style and content of what, and how, we communicate can be one of our greatest life-lessons. I certainly think it has been one of mine.

Emotional self-reflection and self-awareness are not easy practices because we all have our own infuriating blind-spots; looking straight into the face of our foibles can feel like being caught in Medusa’s gaze – and because of this, we can spend a lot of energy avoiding it. For me, so much of my spiritual journey has been a psychological one: I want to know and understand myself more deeply that I might be a contributing factor in the world becoming a better place for all. I tend to think that if we all did the work on ourselves, then the collective condition might improve immeasurably. It’s worth a go at least. However, it takes a lot of self-compassion; and empathy and patience with others, especially when our waters get muddied by their untended and unrecognized issues. When this happens, some good old-fashioned healthy boundaries are a must.

And so, for the good of all who know me, and for those who don’t, I am going to keep asking myself ‘what am I currently placing in the waters of life?’ I am looking to my own well, to clear those weeds that any stagnant waters might run clear and fresh again; I am treating those waters like a sacred sacrament.


Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started