Embracing your Darkness

 

Do you embrace your dark side? Do you know what lives there? I love my dark side. She manifests in the form of complete and total apathy and detachment. If you make her mad, she won’t yell, she wont break things, she wont even try to get revenge. She’ll just cut you off, create a reality in which you do not, nor did you ever exist. She doesn’t give a f*ck. Not about you or your feelings. She’s ice cold, like the subterranean black cave where she dwells. She cares about one thing and one thing only – me.  She will do whatever needs to be done to make sure I am protected. She is not a physically intimidating woman, but she will f*ck with your mind and if she so chooses, your heart. She is a vixen who can and will use her sexiness as a tool to manipulate. For the most part she exists in a pretty healthy balance with her lighter counterpart; she comes out only when necessary. But sometimes, she just does her own thing.  I do not try to repress or deny her. I know that as a human being, she is what makes me who I am.

In thinking about my dark side, I started doing some blog searching and came across the piece below, that talks about the need to not only acknowledge but embrace your dark side, for the health of your existence.

You can find the original in it’s entirety here:

http://www.bobbiemel.com/blog/bid/82643/Afraid-of-the-dark-4-lessons-to-help-you-embrace-your-shadow

Afraid of the dark? 4 lessons to help you embrace your shadow

Posted by Bobbi Emel on Thu, May 03, 2012 @ 11:02 AM

First, a story:

In Ursula K. LeGuin’s classic fantasy novel, A Wizard of Earthsea, one person has power over another by knowing his “true name.” So it is that the people of Earthsea all go by nicknames, only revealing their true names to those they trust with their lives and hearts.

The story is told of a brash young wizard named Ged (his true name), who, in a vain show of his immature power, accidentally unleashes a dark spirit-monster from the depths of the other world. Ged is severely wounded by the creature which then flees into the night.

Upon recovering, Ged finds himself in mortal fear of this creature and, when he again encounters it, runs away and continues to run as the creature follows wherever Ged goes.

Returning to his first great teacher, Ged is told that he must learn the true name of the thing that hunts him in order to defeat it.

“The evil thing, the shadow that hunts me, has no name,” Ged whispers with resignation.

“All things have a name,” his teacher responds with certainty.

Finally, Ged realizes that he must confront the dark creature in order to stop running and return to living a whole life – or die.

Now the hunter becomes the hunted as Ged chases the dark mass, finally catching it in the middle of the sea. Ged approaches the thing and, as it morphs into hideous, ever-changing dark shapes with sharp claws and dagger teeth, Ged reaches for it.

The black spirit hisses and moans but Ged, finally facing the truth, calmly calls it by its true name:

“Ged.”

The mass quivers and allows Ged to embrace it, pulling it into his body, the shadow and Ged now as one again.

What can we learn from the story of Ged?

1. We tend to run away from the dark things we conjure up that have wounded us terribly.

How many times have you done this? Created – inadvertently, perhaps – a situation in your life out of immaturity or not knowing yourself well enough that ends up hurting you dreadfully?

Perhaps it is a relationship that becomes toxic, the scars of which you carry and which cause you to run from all intimacy.

Perhaps it is poor choices you made when younger that you continue to flee from rather than stop and see the lessons you learned from them.

2. You must face your shadow and name it or you will always run from its power and terror.

Ged finally recognized that the monster from which he was fleeing was the darker part of himself, his shadow.

Are you still running from your shadow? Perhaps you were hurt by someone else long ago and yet your shadow side continues to hang onto the hurt. You have been running away from this for a long time, afraid of what would happen if the shadow caught up to you.

Do you you need to forgive yourself?

Stop. Look at what you are running from. Call it by your own name and realize it is a part of you.

3. You must not only face your shadow, you must embrace it.

You may spend a lot of time running away from your shadow, denying that you have one, or trying to get rid of it.

As Ged so wisely realized, the shadow is an integral part of you and needs to be welcomed and embraced. Accepting yourself is not only about celebrating your good qualities, but embracing the darker side of you: the flaws, quirks, bad habits, less-than-noble thoughts, and negative emotions that are as much a part of you as your sunny side.

It’s okay to continue to grow personally and bring light to your darker characteristics. But realize that, because you are a member of the human race, part of you will always be shadow.

Embrace your shadow.

4. You are not whole without your shadow.

All the energy and effort you put into denying your shadow only delays your experience as a whole, complete person.

Live a free, meaningful life as shown in this passage from the end of A Wizard of Earthsea. (Ged was accompanied on his journey to find his shadow by his trustworthy friend, Estarriol.)

“Estarriol,” he said, “look, it is done. It is over.” He laughed. “The wound is healed,” he said, “I am whole, I am free.” Then he bent over and hid his face in his arms, weeping like a boy.

Estarriol began to see the truth, that Ged had neither lost nor won but, naming the shadow of his death with his own name, had made himself whole: a man who, knowing his whole true self, cannot be used or possessed by any power other than himself, and whose life therefore is lived for life’s sake and never in the service of ruin, or pain, or hatred or the dark.

Know When To Take Off Your Cape ~ Guest Post

Superwomen, at what point do you say “enough is enough” and take off your cape? Dr. Chandler discusses the events that led her – or forced her – to loose her cape, and leave it behind altogether.

http://www.forharriet.com/2011/02/meet-ex-superwoman-why-i-had-to-divorce.html

Yep, I’ve decided to get a divorce! No, not from a significant other, husband, friend or job. It’s a more important divorce. This divorce is not amicable or mutually decided upon. It is due to irreconcilable differences. Those differences are many, but they all boil down to one issue: I will no longer be a Superwoman!

Sure, I’ve been quite committed to this relationship for over 40 years, 43 to be exact. I’ve ensured that the expectations thrust upon her – from within and without – were not only met, but exceeded. But I’ve done so at a great cost to my health and well-being.

You see, the Superwoman had no problem taking too much, doing too much, and being all things to everyone in spite of the cost. She had no problem diminishing (and sometimes extinguishing) her light so as not to disturb those that were too insecure to stand in the shadow of its shine. Her time was rarely hers to do with as she pleased. Her time was filled up with leaping tall buildings in a single bound, even on a broken leg. She is – she was – a Superwoman. But she was a fictional character created by history, confirmed by her experiences, and perpetuated by the internalization of numerous oppressions.

What led to the divorce, you ask? Here’s my recollection…

“I’m committing you.” I thought I heard what the psychiatrist said, but after several nights of insomnia, a lasting bout of overwhelming depression and an episode of PTSD that left me hallucinating at various times of the night, I wasn’t completely sure I’d heard him clearly. “I know this is not what you want to hear, but this is what you need. Your depression is in need of intensive therapy; therefore, I’m committing you.”

Yes, he said what I heard. All I could think of at the time was that this psychiatrist was just misdiagnosing the severity of my situation. I’d been here before, maybe not in the hospital, but I’d dealt with this situation before. I pulled upon the strength I’d been taught since childhood; what I MUST do in order to make it as a Black woman. I’d been taught that above all else, Black women had to be strong and not look to others to do what they could do for themselves– which seemed like virtually everything.

This I could do for myself, right?

My mom was strong in that she held down the job that took care of our health insurance while simultaneously being the majority breadwinner in our family. How can I not handle a little depression? Most of the women I knew growing up took care of children (whether there was a father in the home or not), worked, helped others in their family and community, and did so in the face of whatever health/financial/spiritual/emotional challenge that came their way. And there was always something going on. Therefore, I had to deal with my issues and “keep it moving.”

During the last couple of years of graduate school I began dealing with mild symptoms of PTSD and progressively raging insomnia. During my undergraduate years, I dealt with depression and anxiety manifesting in various health issues, especially my worsening asthma that once landed me on life support.

This was not new. In my mind, I would just get a prescription and some sleep and keep moving. If I’d gotten through all of that, I had to be strong, right? Even after finishing a PhD in three years and obtaining my first tenure-track job prior to finishing – even dealing with all of these issues, I could still keep it together, right?

Every Black woman I knew in college was doing the same thing, and they had boyfriends/husbands/children, etc. I was blessed, wasn’t I? I’d established myself as a strong, independent, more than competent, trustworthy individual that always overachieved by demonstrating I could “bring it” whenever necessary. I’d earned a fellowship and assistantship to pay for school. I worked full-time while finishing my other two degrees. I was blessed?

I was an upwardly mobile African-American woman achieving the American dream and demonstrating that I could be a credit to my race. I didn’t have children out-of-wedlock (or in wedlock for that matter). I wasn’t “shacking up” with anyone (which would have definitely landed me in the dog house with my Baptist-pastor father) and I was even a preacher that was active in ministry. Sure, I’d seen great models of support in the lives of many of my white female counterparts in school. But, these folks came from a legacy of entitlement by virtue of their ethnicity. Their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents had either been college graduates, business owners, landowners, or had attained middle to upper-middle class status at least third to fourth generations ago. I would be the only person in my family achieving a Ph.D.

I also came from a heritage of strong Black women. We always worked and took care of everybody. We always made it happen without complaining. We walked through life with a steely determination to do our best, because we couldn’t expect that help was available. All we had to do was depend on God anyway, right?

So, this psychiatrist could not have understood my position, especially because he was a white male with no experience being an African-American female in a career that historically neither supported nor affirmed a performance that did not reflect a superhuman display. Did this shrink not know that I had to be in class the coming Monday? Did he not know I had two writing projects to finish, a search committee to organize, students to assist with academic and life problems, emails to respond to, bills to pay, an unkempt apartment to clean, and on, and on, and on? How would this affect my standing in my department? How would this effect acquiring tenure?

I certainly could not be perceived as not being able to handle the position I worked so hard to attain, even before receiving my PhD? There was no way I could be committed to a psychiatric hospital in order to deal with my ongoing depression and PTSD. He didn’t understand that, once again, I needed to just suck it up, take my medicine, pray, and keep it moving. I had to keep up my positive reputation and being in a psychiatric hospital – especially since Black women are never crazy, just angry – would not work for me. So I responded, “Is that a suggestion?” He emphatically stated, “No. This is an involuntary commitment. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Dr. Chandler, I think this is the best thing for you so that you can get your life on track. You deserve to do so.”

Deserve?! This guy didn’t understand what my history taught me that I deserved. What my experiences taught me was that I deserved to be what Zora Neale Hurston so eloquently titled, “the mule of world.” Was I not a superwoman that could handle anything because the combination of my history, examples and experiences told me I could do so? 

There I was. When confronted with my humanity in such a way that I could not deny it, I was actually freed to relinquish the superhuman strength that resided in my mind and not my body. I was a human with a human challenge that when faced with acceptance, no judgment and care could be overcome. This was my on ramp to balance, shamelessness, self-care, and self-love. What looked like a situation in which I was forced to be, with no way out, was actually my way in to freedom and wholeness. I just had to take it in spite of the consequences that could potentially come my way. I deserved it.

There you have it! The confession of an Ex-Superwoman. The divorce was hard; however, it had been coming a long time. Now that I am living post-divorce, I must say I’m having the time of my life! Is everything perfect? Hell-to-the-NO! Is this the perfect life for me–YES! In the coming months, I’ll be detailing what life is like now that I’m no long a Superwoman.

I hope in the few moments you’ll take to read my posts, you might find a few answers, a few nuggets to provoke your thoughts, and some good ‘ol challenges to what has become status quo in your life. If need be, I hope you’ll be brave enough to get a divorce from your superhuman self as well.

Here’s your challenge: Go back into your personal phone booth. Take off that cape. Pull off your mask. Unzip and step out of the superhero suit. Now, look at your reflection in the glass. WOW! WHAT A WONDERFUL SIGHT!

Dr. Kimberly J. Chandler is an Assistant Professor of Communication Studies at Xavier University of Louisiana. She received her doctoral degree from Wayne State University and her research interests are in gender and communication. Specifically, she looks at the performance of gender and African American masculinities as well as Black women and identity negotiation. You can find her blog at http://exsuperwoman.wordpress.com/

Locate: Balance

I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve been stretched as thin as dragonfly wings. Between my regular 9-5, being a single mom, my little independent side job, trying to maintain some sort of social life, and my various volunteer obligations (I just love oxymorons), I feel like Michael Keaton in Multiplicity, without the (dis?)advantage of the actual cloning machine.  Don’t get me wrong – I’m enjoying all of the things that I’m doing. I’m learning new things and meeting new people all the time. But honestly, all I really want to do is lay in bed for about 3 months and dream of intergalactic travel and my alternate life in Atlantis…and eat hot fries, vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup and drink wine (yes, it’s that time of the month).

When I lived in Louisville, Kentucky (for a dreadful 15 years), I was always bored because there was nothing to do. Well, I should say there was nothing that I was interested in doing that I hadn’t already done a million times. I wanted to be involved in things, I wanted to live the fast life, always on the go, always meeting new people, acquiring new skills, and making some sort of name for myself. In short, I wanted to feel productive and progressive and engaged. I wanted to feel like life existed outside of work and motherhood. I wanted to feel important.

As soon as I moved to Atlanta, I got my wish. I’ve met some amazing people who are involved in and have introduced me to a million and three different projects that they all seem to handle with ease and no dark under-eye circles. I really don’t know how they do it. Granted, none of them are single-handedly raising a two year old drama queen, but just thinking about some of the things these women do without tiny ones makes me want to crawl under my bed and never come out. But I try to match them as best as I can. And so far, I’m doing okay. Though I have to admit, while I don’t miss Louisville itself, I miss my lazy days spent there walking through the Highlands, hanging out on the great lawn at the Waterfront Park, and staring at the moon and stars from the roof of the Actor’s Theatre building. And it’s not like I can’t do that here, but I don’t.  The energy around me is always moving, always flowing, and I feel like if I don’t keep up I’ll drown…

Why do we do this? What is the deal with this Superwoman Syndrome that way too many of  us suffer from (from which way too many of us suffer? As a copy editor, I should know this. Whatever)? Why is this country so deeply invested in always being busy, always doing something? Just because you’re busy doesn’t mean you’re productive, and being productive doesn’t always give the appearance of being busy. Why don’t we ever take the time to just chill, just be still, to just be? We work ourselves until we’re sick, saying “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” or “Sleep is for losers,” when the reality is that sufficient sleep is a key factor in optimal health and the more multi-tasking an individual does, the less likely each of those tasks will be done at top-quality level (that’s a statistical fact – I just don’t remember where I read it and I’m too tired to look it up).

So now I’m trying to bring myself to a healthy balance of staying active and involved, and simplifying and minimizing my life. Life is about maximizing time spent on the important things, the things that matter most, not just filling your time with events and activities just because. That’s one of the main reasons why I deleted my Facebook page about two weeks ago. That’s a huge thing for a self-admitted FB addict. But I haven’t missed it and I haven’t looked back. I’m also focusing on the things I love most, like spending time outside with my daughter (I found a lake – YAY!), reading, editing and watching movies. I enjoy my volunteer opportunities, but I won’t be dedicating as much time to them as I was. And the socializing will be cut to a drastic minimum. No parties unless I really need to get out and shake something; and focus will be on strengthening the bonds I’ve created since I’ve moved here, as opposed to trying to create new bonds. At least for now. Eventually, when my heart is ready, I’d like to make sure I have quality time for my future wife (Meshell Ndegeocello – if you’re reading this, I’m talking to you, honey), and of course, and maybe most important, time to eat ice cream in bed and dream of intergalactic travel and my alternate life in Atlantis.

How do you maintain balance in your life?

Have you ever felt the need to do more than you already do?

Do you find it hard to say no to people who require your time or other resources?

What is one way you could simplify your life right now?

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