Oups… The shadows of my days?

When you asked people about shadows, you can get funny answers from the shape drawn by the sun on a lazy afternoon,  to a stalker, a paparazzi or your unwanted monsters and fears (and some people it may be the same thing).

I can’t remember when I first met my shadows. Was is through reading fairy tales? or through the work of Carl Jung? Of course I would not have called them my shadows by then; I would have probably not called them at all, just merely acknowledging them in my dreams and thoughts.  I still do not name or see them. They are there, that’s all and… they are my best teachers.

Very well described by Carl Jung in “Individualization”, facing our weaknesses is what can make us stronger. We cannot learn much from our strength, since we already know them, however we do learn from our weakness. We learn how to turn them into strength. This is simply that search for the “positive learning” we talked about so often in NLP. When a shadow creeps in, proud, bold or sneaky who knows, an unpleasant emotion often follows and boom… explosion and thunderstorm! Unless… unless we stop, breath and ask: “what positive information can I learn from that situation?” or “What is the positive learning my unconscious wants me to learn from this situation”.

Meeting the shadows of my day is meeting my protective self. Meeting the shadows of my day is growing to become more my true self.

Meeting the shadows of my days…

I see them
Those shadows of my days
Man made forest, neat, square, organized
Tempting

I rest
The sun is high, the wind immobile
Under the foliage of those straight barks,
All paths alike, same scent, same shape and color
Man made forest, neat, square, organized
Intoxicating

I shake
The day lengthens, the sun escapes
Shadows crawling, stretching and aging
My failed expectations
All I should have been and could not reach
All I have been told and could not feel
Man made forest, neat, square, organized
Suffocating,
My skin tears against labels, taught fears.
My ankles twist on the even road, predictable.
Our societies, our golden cages,
Those man made forest, neat, square, organized

There are no shadows in my nights.
Within the darkness of my weaknesses
I am home at last.

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