Shadows

This is an excerpt from the weekly News-Loveletter. If you would like it sent to your inbox directly (with all the other juicy bits, including a mini joy practice), you can add yourself to my mailing list here.

Flowers and fruits are rarely seen in January as the sun tracks a path low across the sky. Daylight in the Pacific Northwest in January bears an orangey sweetness all its own. I dashed out for a walk with Leo yesterday to chase the tail end of a break in the clouds and caught this image of my Heartnut tree on the wall.

Every shadow is cast because of light. The two are inseparable. Without a second thought, the luminous winter sun had pitched an image of life on my wall, and I caught my breath to see it. This image bears no fruit. It stands as dark as the afternoon sun is bright, a black teaser of the life it emulates.

In our lives, we find shadows where it hurts. Our discomfort alerts us to a lack of flow, a block in the passage of light. We can turn to the light again, the flow, and focus our attention there to feel better at times. But sometimes, the shadows unfold across the landscape of our soul and demand to be seen. We step out into the world and catch our breath as we encounter them fullforce, unavoidable.

When it’s winter in the soul, we can tend to our shadows with love. Every discomfort arises because of a need we perceive as unmet. What is that precious need? How can we embrace it, and in doing so, embrace ourselves? Can we find something to appreciate in this dark moment? Are there gifts to be found here now, or will we wait for the next season to unveil them?