Several months ago, I developed a habit of getting up early in the morning and walking. I take the same route every day – just a little over 2 miles around and through my neighborhood – and usually start and finish the walk at approximately the same time each day. In other words, there is a predictable pattern to my walk, that has really only been modified by how much daylight there is, or isn’t, depending on the time of year.
This morning, I was awake earlier than normal. My husband had an early flight out for a business trip, and since I could not fall back to sleep after his alarm went off, I decided to get out of bed and walk earlier than normal. I walked my same route, but because of the earlier time it was still quite dark for most of the walk. My walk was lit by the streetlights, instead of by the new light of the morning like it is normally.
About half way through my route, I turned a corner and was startled by a shadow on the sidewalk in front of me. It was my own shadow, cast by a streetlight. But I wasn’t expecting it, and for a second I truly was scared by my own shadow. I quickly realized what it was and had a little chuckle at myself. But then I began thinking about what it really means to be scared by your own shadow.
What if the “shadow” is the part of each of us that we dislike the most? What if the “shadow” is the circumstance that may be beyond our control, but still shapes us? What if the “shadow” is the thing we can’t change?
The shadows are the things that follow us around, no matter how hard we try to either get rid of them, or ignore their existence. The things that are always there, because whether we want to admit it or not, those things are a part of who we are. And those things we don’t want to acknowledge, or name, or bring into the light are as much a part of who we are as the things we do acknowledge, name and shine a light upon. Those things are our shadows, and our shadows are connected to us.
We all have shadows. Mine are a self doubt that is deep and wide, and the exhaustion (both physical and emotional) that comes from living with Fibromyalgia. That’s all a part of who I am. Those are my shadows.
But in order for there to be a shadow, there must first be light.