Thursday, September 18, 2014

Oh Green Snake, the Shadow.



Oh Green Snake, when I hung you around my neck and stroked your cold, pulsing throat, I must have been severely misguided. That’s right. Misguided, off the rockers, ill-advised or just plain masochistic. I know now that in a time I cannot remember when I was a being I cannot conceive, I made a contract with my current shadow’s soul for some transformative affliction. At the time it seemed like a great idea. I needed someone to help me down here learn a few hard lessons and find my Light through a bit of pain, and she, Green Snake, my Shadow, volunteered. I was excited! I was going to be born and already I had a friendly soul offering to help me. However, we agreed that my lessons needed to be a surprize – eternal souls have wonderful senses of humour- and thus as we descended down to this lovely planet, I wrapped my Shadow, now green and coiled, around me, and then, we forgot.

We forgot our eternal selves, our Light and we forgot entirely of our contract. Born apart, we both grew along our different paths. Mine was the life that would shape me to who I am now. My Shadow on the other hand found a fate of misadventure that would mould her into the serpent she’d promised to be. When our time of meeting arrived, I would be unaware of her existence, and she would be armoured in arrowy gold scales, gold to draw me in, arrowy to draw into me. We are drawn to our Shadows. We find them enthralling in some way or another. We put them on a pedestal. At first their true soul purpose with regards to us is hidden in the underbrush, but at some point we indefinitely (innocently) share a piece of our being that we love with them.

I was pulled in by my Shadow’s seeming “openness” and intellectualism, and so I thought that my beliefs were valued. So I poured out a part of my soul to my Shadow, beloved Green Snake –and she bit me. “et tu, Brute?” I asked, aghast. I felt attacked and utterly horrified. But she, my Shadow dear, merely hissed at me, remorseless and nonchalant. 
I was wounded, but before I could really process her bite, and her, I found 
my Shadow tied to me. The contract still stood, and so I was coaxed into discounting our first real introduction. It was if I was compelled by our celestial contract, as if I were being guided to bear the pain my Shadow would bring me, like I needed it, like I –my soul- wanted it.



I’m convinced we have no idea about the small, constant abuses and injury we would endure by the hands of our lovely Green Snakes. If we’re aware enough, we become acquainted with our Shadow, know that they are our Shadow. However, if you’re a human being, you’re probably still being driven mad by their presence. I’ll be open here about this because really, my Shadow irks me, annoys me, and downright infuriates me. 
I feel like I am a field of mouse traps and she is the sadistic, quick little mouse that triggers everything in me that I don’t want to see. She is a Shadow after all, the being placed specifically on this earth to reflect back for us all the uncomfortable truths and lessons we’d rather not acknowledge are necessary for the growth of our soul. Our Shadows 
haunt us because they hold a piece of our puzzle. I’ve considered for a long time what 
my Shadow could possibly hold, what piece of my power.

I have a sense that compassion is a given lesson of our Shadow. When I am around my Shadow I feel my heart, which is truly so filled with love, harden like a suspicious stone. 
I try to soften my rigidity but all I feel is this deep tightening. We must practise acceptance of this tension. Our tension is actually holding up an arrow in the direction of a point of new awakening.

Also, our Shadow brings out our ‘meany’ self, our inner shadow. I know that my Shadow triggers my inner meany into a space where Meany is putting all sorts of big, vicious labels all over the length of Shadow’s glinting body. My Shadow brings out a side in me that is both harsh and vulnerable, both being parts I now recognise that I squash down. But that’s also what a Shadow does. Bring out the worst in us so that we may face our darkness, and in doing so, illuminate it.

In part I lament that such a thing as a Shadow should exist to torment us. I’m certain our excited souls up in the ether had no idea what a fantastic job our Shadows would commit to. Some part of me wants to hand in my letter of resignation, a respectful uncoiling of my Green Snake for the foreseeable future, and then, indefinitely. But I’ve come to see more and more that Shadows, as painful and exacerbating as they are, are like a universal nudge in the direction of our own Light. Our Shadows are people who manifest in our lives as instruments vitally important to our journey of enlightenment as beings. They trigger our darkness, and they trigger our light. We are afraid of both. And that is why we, I, am mad. It is up to us really to come to understand that our Green Snake’s hiss, which we may find still partly unnerving and unsettling, is rather a whisper saying, ‘Remember. Remember. I am your friend.’



Anthea