Me And My Shadow

The mission of The Sage Forum is to encourage, equip, and empower women over 40 to mature in faith and grow in wisdom. We send out a newsletter at the beginning of each month focusing on a different theme relevant to women in the second half of life.

Today’s Sage Forum Extra! is a short mid-month reflection meant to offer you a word of encouragement. Today’s Extra! is penned by Sage Forum contributor Carole Duff, who shares the story of a part of herself she was ready to meet only when she moved into the second half of her life. As you read, prayerfully consider what God in his love for you might be revealing about your identity in your own second half.

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Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1 NIV

I combed through our townhouse, adjusting pictures and lampshades. The scent of warm ginger cookies and fresh-brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen, masking the odors of window cleaner and furniture polish. Outside, a light breeze rustled the dry leaves of Indian summer. Passing clouds filtered the sunlight, which dappled through the townhouse windows and glass doors.

“Welcome!” I said to my neighbors, arriving for my Open House. After the usual pleasantries, I offered, “Would you like the Cook’s tour?”

We ascended the stairs, our steps muted by new carpet. “Of the three upstairs rooms, the one at the top is my favorite.” I pointed to the left. “A cozy moonlight-blue with space for a futon, bookcases, and small desk.” The real estate agent in me continued her pitch. “It’s a bedroom, guest room, or quiet place to read surrounded by family pictures.” I pivoted at the landing, my hands showcasing door number one like a Price is Right hostess.

The room was empty—no furniture, no books, no pictures. Speechless, I turned to my neighbors, and they too had vanished. My mind stirred enough to realize I was dreaming.

In the dream, I crossed the room’s threshold. The walls were no longer moonlight-blue but corn silk yellow, giving the room a soft glow. To my left, instead of a closet, the entire wall opened into an unfinished room. Most of the drywall was ready for sanding and painting, but a few strips of seam tape hung loose and ruffled in the light breeze coming from the small open window opposite the hitherto hidden room. Amazement crept through me as I stared into this mysterious new space. My body shifted with uncertainty.

Oh, never mind, I can fix this. I marched into the unfinished room, picked up a bucket of drywall joint compound, conveniently tucked in one corner, and read the directions. Then I pried up the bucket’s cover with a taping knife and scooped a dollop. I spread a layer of “mud” along the seam tape from ceiling to floor. After pounding the bucket cover back on, I wiped the taping knife clean with an old cloth rag and left both knife and rag on top of the bucket. Atta girl, I said to myself, do-it-yourself. DIY.

When I returned to the main room, my eyes searched the carpeted floor and corn silk yellow walls for signs of furniture, books, or pictures. Nothing. Empty except for my shadow. Suddenly the room filled with dazzling light, and I became a shadow without a shadow. Oddly unafraid, I stood powerless in emptiness.

Though I rarely remember dream details, this one was exceptionally vivid. It featured not only a hidden room, which dream researchers postulate as symbolizing unexplored parts of ourselves, but also my shadow self—a concept advanced by psychotherapist Carl Jung. Reflective dreams like this, revealing our shadow selves, can only happen in the second half of life.

According to Franciscan priest Richard Rohr, during the first half of our lives, we build up a separate or false self as we learn which actions cause approval and disapproval. To have control over our lives and create rewarding outcomes, we develop behaviors that are acceptable and repress those that are not—our shadow selves. Shadow qualities aren’t necessarily bad; they are simply what we refuse to see about ourselves, and what we do not want others to see.

My shadow self thinks she can fix anything all by herself, especially in an unfinished closet-room. Being a self-satisfied, sometimes over-reaching fixer is my self-created, subjective, self-image.

But second-half-of-life wisdom offers opportunities for us to look beyond our shadow’s “mask” and find who we really are—hidden with Christ in God, as Paul puts it in Colossians 3:3. Our True Self, discovered in God, is our deepest truth. To find my true self, I had to hollow out first-half-of-life illusions: Price-is-Right materialism, DIY power, this-world-defined success. I had to let pride drop into nothingness.

As I stood, emptied out and powerless, my shadow-less shadow surveyed the room bathed in dazzling light. To the right, I saw a panel similar to the one behind bathtub faucets. I turned the clips and lifted the panel door aside. Bowing down as in supplication, I peered into a long, dark passageway without perceptible walls, ceiling, or floor.

A being spoke, both inside of me and in the distance. Seek.

I sensed I would never return to this dream-room, and the opportunity would pass. Oh, never mind, I am who I am. I crawled like a curious child into the passage and woke. Lying in bed, reviewing the details of my dream so I would remember, I was swept with a deep sense of humility about the everything I had not seen.

Whenever I think about humility—not often I’m sad to say—I recall that years-ago dream and the voice. Seek. Give up your shadow self and creep into the mystery of faith with curiosity, confidence and hope.

Prayer: “Loving Lord Jesus, I humbly ask that you would purify my heart, renew my mind, sanctify my imagination, and enlarge my soul. Amen.” (Richard J. Foster, Learning Humility: A Year of Searching for a Vanishing Virtue)

Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash