The last few weeks have been filled with moments of gorgeous light and pulsating darkness.
As humans we easily gravitate towards talking and connecting through the light, the joyous spaces of our life but often struggle with opening up about our shadows, our fears of judgement, our hidden parts that feel unsettled.
The dance between sharing both sides of ourselves can make us feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, BUT when we sink into this dance and open ourselves up and listen to our inner and outer guides we can elevate and rejuvenate our souls and build bridges to deeper connections.
This week I had two wonderful exchanges with my daughter who is almost 12, and definitely in the throws of starting puberty. The first conversation, encompassed talking about the shadow self and the other was an evening of playful dialogue that allowed our silly, joyous and humorous sides to fly freely.
Our evening ritual, which my daughter still asks for and wants deeply, is to lay beside each other and share a Rose (a celebration from the day), a Thorn (a challenge or draining part from the day), and a Bud (something we are looking forward to). We take turns sharing these pieces of our day with each other and they often lead to great conversations.
Last week, my daughter had a nightmare, which was her thorn because it had stuck with her all day. The nightmare was about her and a friend exploring our woods and getting attacked by a rabid coyote whom she had to stomp to death. My daughter is an animal lover so this troubled her greatly and she couldn’t shake the sadness and fear that had been lingering. She was afraid the dream would begin again and became anxious that she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
As a young child I used to have a reoccurring nightmare about my house catching fire and it being surrounded by wolves who chased me through the woods as I escaped the fire. I shared this with her but also relayed that over the years I have come to see the wolf as one of my spirit animals, and learned she is my shadow self, my fear and my fierceness and that when we give space to be curious about our fears instead of anxious we can become partners with it.
So I asked her what she thought the coyote might be trying to teach her, what was she fearful of?
She answered with “ Good question, I don’t know but let me think about that” And then she whispered to me, “ Wisdom from Andrea Parker, Thank You Mommy.” Last night I asked her again if she had time to think about it and her answer was growing up and being alone. But she also said that she had been fearful of this for a long time and now that fear isn’t as intense. I hugged her and let her know that she is surrounded by people that love her and even if they are far away that they will be reachable.
This small connection and exchange of the deeper part of myself and understanding with her, helped her shift her fear to curiosity and be able to sleep that night. Shadow turned into light.
For as long as I can remember, I have had a deep seeded fear of judgement. I hated playing dolls or school or any imaginary play when I was little because I was fearful of being too silly, or not saying the right thing or being misunderstood. So from a young age I stifled my voice and only shared my silly, strange, dark thoughts with those closest to me, those that I felt safe with.
Last night my daughter started writing a story for school.
It needed to be a narrative with an animal from the ecosystem or farm at her school and incorporate ways that the animal aft and is affective by the ecosystem. She lovingly chose a woodchuck.
She loves writing so spent a good hour writing and then shared it with me. It was in the first person and about a woodchuck who lived at the farm but his parents had died when they got chased by a fox and ran into an electric fence. This woodchuck finds himself in the same position but it turns out differently and he ends up in the animal rescue they have at the school.
After she was reading this I asked her if she could imagine herself as a woodchuck and describe things a bit more from his perspective and with his personality. This could have gone really wrong depending on the night, for she may have seen this as me helping or hurting her creativity, (an on going struggle at this age!)
Last night was a good night and this is where my light and her light connected.
We started to riff about what he would say, what he would call things. We pretended to move like a woodchuck and look around as if we were him.
Silliness ensued as we imagined him coming out of his burrow and spotting the beady eyed sharp teeth monster and wishing he hadn’t eaten so much broccoli that morning, as he was plodding through the field.
After we finished laughing so hard our stomachs hurt, I asked her what words would she describe things instead of the words we humans use. This lead to us getting even sillier- the electric fence became the oucher lines and the zapper, tomatoes ( which he didn’t like) were red bursts of sour yuckiness.
This play with words, the humor and silliness opened my heart and fused a beautiful connection between us mother and daughter and healed a part inside myself, that part of me as a little girl who felt misunderstood.
I love being silly but rarely allow myself to be goofy or over the top for fear of how my words would be perceived. Reconnecting to my joker made space for my voice to come through loud and clear, dancing with the shadow and the light.
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