Struggling with one’s shadow self

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 

–The apostle Paul writing to all God’s beloved in Rome.

Richard Rohr writes:  “Struggling with one’s own shadow self, facing interior conflicts and moral failures, undergoing rejection and abandonment, daily humiliations, experiencing any kind of abuse, or any form of limitation: all are gateways into deeper consciousness and the flowering of the soul.  These experiences give us a privileged window into the naked now, because impossible contradictions are staring us in the face.  Much needed healing, forgiving what is, “weeping over” and accepting one’s interior poverty and contradictions are normally necessary experiences to invite a person into the contemplative mind.”  (Naked Now, 125)

Questions for Reflection:

1. In what ways have I been aware of my interior poverty and contradictions?

2. What is the relationship between struggling with my “shadow self” and the “flowering of the soul”?

3.  Where is God in relation to my shadow self?

Treading Water

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

when sorrows like sea billows roll;

whatever my lot,

Thou has taught me to say

It is well, it is well with my soul.

At some point, in my teenage years, I began to feel like sorrows would drown me. The sea threatened to swallow me whole. All was well? My soul was conflicted, my pain ran deep. As beautiful as the hymn is, I wished I could say all was well, but no amount of wishing made the sadness leave. The black cloud just loved me. It hovered.

And so began a life’s journey of treading water; keeping my head up, the best I could. A little medication here, things feel manageable. Things get hard, more meds. The fog is lifting. Oh wait, the littlest thing is again too overwhelming to bear.  More medicine. Sometimes this depression made sense. There were losses, goodbyes, a miscarriage. Often, it didn’t. Ordinary days became dark. All looked well to the naked eye but inside I was choking, gasping for air.  I was aching for release.

At a certain point, in the last several years, I stopped trying to just get by. I stopped hoping this could be wished away. This sadness, this depression was weaved into the person I was. No amount of coaching or smiles was going to erase it. I am not the only one on my family tree to fight this battle. There are others who can’t make sense of their deep sorrow. I was learning, accepting this is NOT giving up. It’s an opening up. I believe it is saying to the Lord, yes, I know this about me. This is a part of who I am. And the Lord says, “I know. I know you’ve wanted to escape this. But remember, I’ve been in deep with you the whole time.”

I’ve made peace with the medicine. It’s a welcome tool. It’s my glasses that adjust my sight to see things as they really are- no better, no worse. It is a lifejacket in a world where I’ve spend too much time treading water. I feel deeply. I love deeply. I experience my pain and the pain of others around me, deeply. This is a gift! But it also threatens to suffocate me at times. If I was to write an autobiography, I’ve come up with a title: My Life As a Sponge.

What has helped me? The awareness that this is who I am.  My move towards wholeness has required some of that honest work. It’s been opening myself up to community. It’s knowing that depression may always be a part of who I am. But, it doesn’t have to control my life. In fact, I believe that this suffering has brought about much good and growth. That is when I’ve been able to be honest with myself and those around me. I am not alone in this. Many other stories connect with mine in this way. Part of my healing has been opening myself up to others on this journey.

I will not lie, I hate depression. There are days where I resent those pills sitting on my bathroom sink. But, it has made me who I am. No amount of depression or darkness can extinguish God’s light of love in my being. But, I often have to peel back those layers (oh so painful) to remember the light that continues to shine bright.

-Lisa Averill Mullen

Prayer for the Beginning of the Day

Lord, grant me to greet the coming day in peace. Help me in all things to rely upon Your holy will. In every hour of the day reveal Your will to me. Bless my dealings with all who surround me. Teach me to treat all that comes to throughout the day with peace of soul and with firm conviction that Your will governs all. In all my deeds and words, guide my thoughts and feelings. In unforeseen events, let me not forget that all are sent by You. Teach me to act firmly and wisely, without embittering and embarrassing others. Give me strength to bear the fatigue of the coming day with all that it shall bring. Direct my will, teach me to pray. And You, Yourself, pray in me. Amen.
-St Philaret of Moscow (+1867)

Coming back from Kenya

Insecurity has been one area of my life that has been a continual struggle.  I long to be the best – the best teacher, friend, most creative person…all the same types of feelings that I think most of us are challenged by.  For me, I could see that it showed itself with putting a lot of time into school.  But was the time I was there quality time or just time that I was there and doing work inefficiently to make myself feel busy?  It also showed up in my expectations of relationships.  I put very high expectations on those in my life.  I expected people to include me first and to simply just always be included.  I found my feelings were easily hurt if I was not.

The height of these emotions and the need for change really came to a breaking point when I was getting ready to leave Kenya, and even though I could recognize the areas that needed growth, I found myself coming back from Kenya angry and bitter with God.  It was at this point that I began to meet regularly with Jean.  I knew I needed answers and I had some hard work within myself to do.  God directed me to seek her wisdom and spiritual guidance.  It was then that I found myself drawn to the more contemplative practices.  During our sessions, Jean would ask me where God was.  In the beginning, He seemed so distant.  I realized that it was even hard for me to let God in – to believe that He truly loved me and wanted to bless me simply because He loves me and no other reason.  I appreciated that we could read a text and whatever word or phrase stood out was a good place to focus.  I had not been in the practice of reading scripture in this way.

During this time, I was also struggling with just feeling tired.  I was longing for a break to just give my body this rest from all the things I felt I needed to do – school commitments, church commitments, etc.,  So when Jean began to mention the Silent Retreats, I found myself drawn to the quiet and rest they sounded like they would provide, along with time just to do what I wanted for that day – rest, read, walk, pray.  I was excited for what they would provide.  I appreciated that there were no expectations for the day.  Jean provided some structure, but it was a day for the Lord and I to meet each other – the work I did the first time I went was based upon those needs.  There was no expectation to be at a certain place or complete a specific task.  For me, I was longing for rest, and that is what I found.  It was a start to the work I needed in the areas of insecurity and friendships.

-Dalina Winter

Doing our own work

On my run this morning, my favorite way to process things, I couldn’t get Richard Rohr’s words out of my head. “Pain that is not transformed will be transmitted.” At the writer’s retreat I was attending, Paula D’Arcy had shared countless quotes with us, but that is the one that stuck. I wish I could say that my own pain was my first thought, but I couldn’t help but think of all the others in my life who’s pain and mistakes I wished I could fix. Paula had addressed that straight out of the gate. One of the first questions she was asked as we sat at our tables, trying to find voice for our words, was “How can we help others in our life do the necessary work to be free?” “You can’t” she said. “You can only do your own work.” There were no fancy words, just a reminder that it doesn’t happen that way. Yet, as the first words hit my page in our writing exercises were again how I wished I could help everyone else but myself.

Annie Dillard said, “If something inside you is real, it is probably universal.”  I really want to reveal the real in me and trust that it will identify with the true in you. So, any honest words that I am able to share, may connect my story to yours.  That is my hope.  As I continue on this journey to allow Christ to bring me to wholeness, I really want be honest with those around me.  So, this is what I am learning. I am learning that the light of God lives in me.  No one can touch this.  No sin I struggle with, no mistake I’ve made, no suffering that I have endured. But, it takes effort to be free. The work is the willingness to allow light in our dark places.

This isn’t easy for me. Keeping my ugly places dark feels safe, but it also has kept me from freedom. Slowly, ever so slowly, that is changing. It has started in places I never expected. Silence, prayer, scriptures, raw conversations with people I trust, and seeing the same things in a different light. It’s risky, but so worth it. It’s a new way of seeing, a new way of loving and a freedom I never knew was available to me. A freedom offered by God right here, right now.

-Lisa Averill Mullen

Working hard

Working hard.  When I look back over my years of growing up, there are difficult memories as well as many wonderful memories.  But working hard was something I knew my parents wanted to teach me.  Even though I didn’t always want to work, and I think my parents would agree that my attitude was not always the attitude of an example child, I do think I gained and appreciation for doing a job and the importance of doing it well.

Over the last few years, this phrase of working hard has taken on a different meaning for me – one that I didn’t quite expect.  My journey began with a desire for something more in my life – one that involved being overseas and experiencing life outside the U.S.  After years of saying I wanted to do this, I accepted a teaching position at Rosslyn Academy in Nairobi, Kenya.  What a world awaited me!  For three years, I lived a new culture from anything I had experienced growing up, and would not trade those years – the good and the challenging experiences.  My world was opened up to new food, new people, new ways of worship, and new ways of viewing the world.  At the end of three years, my teaching contract was up and I had a difficult decision to make – should I stay on and teach or move back home.  I was torn as to what the Lord was directing me to do.  On the one hand, I loved the school and the people I was with, but on the other hand, I had a family on this side of the world that I missed terribly, and I felt I had missed out on so much of their lives already.

After doing a lot of praying, it was still with mixed emotions that I decided to move back home.  In making that decision, I remember feeling a sense of loss of adventure, which was something I had really been wanting.  At the same time, I can also remember hearing God speaking to me that adventure was just waiting for me, and somehow this would be more difficult than I was expecting.  Although I had grown a lot as a person during my years at Rosslyn, there was a lot that still needed to change in me.  I had some hard work to do, only this time it was not physical, but spiritual and emotional.  A new definition of working hard was taking shape.  So began a journey – with parts I would trade in a second, and experiences that could only come from facing the difficult parts too.

-Dalina Winter