Embrace the Dark
What if your scars are souvenirs with stories waiting to be told?
Tis the season for change, or is it? Hasn’t it always been? A lot of people love to talk about wanting change, perhaps even loving “shadow work.” Many of them are lying, or at least don’t give themselves and the weight of their words enough credit.
"If you knew how quickly people forget the dead, you would stop living to impress people."
~ Christopher Walken
Many of us want, maybe even demand, better of ourselves. Yet, our biology and psychology tear us between an innate will to survival and a desire for comfort (ref.). The perception of a “fresh start” at an arbitrary point in the Earth’s rotation around The Sun reinforces the idea that our “mistake debt” can be washed away. Yet, nothing could be so dis-empowering to our edification (ref.).
There is an expression that “we teach others how to treat us by how we treat ourselves.” This is true even for the narcissist because the facade of confidence masks a petty insecurity. When you say “new year, new me”, you disrespect yourself and the prior experiences that brought you where and to who you are.
Similarly, I’ve discussed with many clients what I call “the planning paradox.” That is, it feels good — and there is a dopamine response — to have an organized calendar, a vision board with scenic pictures, and to tell your friends, family, and social media about your “big hairy audacious goals.” The problem is, it feels good, and things that feel good get reinforced; except you’ve just reinforced the fact that you haven’t done anything at all.
Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again.
Because a vision softly creeping
left it’s seeds while I was sleeping.
And the vision that was planted in my brain
still remains with the sound of silence.
~ Simon and Garfunkel
When someone references “shadow work” I hope they’re making a reference to Carl Jung, but cringe nonetheless. Often people say it with a smile, like an edgy goth kid outside Hot Topic who’s trying too hard. Are you really prepared to dredge up the mire your psyche buried so deep inside you?
I don’t say this to disparage change, quite the opposite. In addition to the things above, people spend a lot of time fighting stress, trying to abolish it in a similar fashion to “the mistakes, failures, and shortcomings of last year.” We try to fight our shadow, absolve ourselves of the ill parts that make us shrink with shame and vomit.
Then we wonder why we’re anxious, “waiting for the other shoe to drop.” The whole of our body is older and wiser than the delusions and dissonances erected by our mere million-year-old frontal cortex.
A similar process happens within the mind’s eye for many people trying to meditate. “I’m supposed to, ‘as thoughts come, let them go’” we say silently to ourselves, or “stop thinking!” We become frustrated when we can’t “be the pond” and judgmentally ridicule ourselves for proverbially jumping in after every fish (thought) we see.
Rather, it’s probably more helpful to learn to dance, or at least interact peacefully, with the things we’d rather rid ourselves of — internally, externally, socially, existentially. How often do we trade one addiction or bad habit for another? The political landscape in the United States has learned this manipulation tactic well and perfected it over the last 70 years.
The stoics remind us to “love your fate” — amor fati — and to “remember you will die” — memento mori. What if the meaning of life isn’t derrieved from productivity, but presence? What if the “new year” was really just waiting for the “old you” to show up? What if your scars are souvenirs with stories waiting to be told?
Over my holiday vacation I spent some time meditating at my family cemetery. Admittedly, I was hoping for something profound, a revelation. When I opened my eyes, the ground I was sitting on was still cold and wet, and the sunset was beautiful.