Shadow Work & Poetry

End of 2012 - beginning 2013 - I see myself equally drawn to Jung's work and expression through poetry. I love the way Jungian analysts write - such richness and depth in their writing and at the same time - wirtten in ways that non-jungians can get.

My current favourite author - James Hollis - his book on working with the Shadow is definitely worth a read. Post reading that book - I have a way of working with what happens within me everything I expereince a strongly negative reaction instead of focusing on the outside. Sure, its wok for a lifetme - but I am able to see how I am able to work through some tough things within and emerge feeling a little more whole, a little more clearer and a lot more peaceful!

So here's a poetry that emerged from my last such journey within (written in my room in Bangladesh):

In the Shadows of Silence.....

On a quiet afternoon, in an even quieter room,

I sat by myself in anger and despair
triggered by feeling isolated in a strange land,
craving for some conversation but no one to share.

It was then that my eye caught this waterbird –

Alone in the paddy field, motionless it stood
As I marvelled its stillness, its focus,
it seemed to telling me that I too should
stay still a while and go past the tears
to truly hear the crying of the soul
to confront what lies in the shadows within me
and listen to my silenced truths now waiting to be told.

It was then that I met this little child in me –

Scared, feeling unloved and even blamed
for the conflicts at home that she felt had to be sorted
and feeling confused why among adults no words were exchanged.

The silence seemed so threatening to her back then;

Eroding the sense of security that only family can bring
She dared not confront the grown-ups why they weren't talking ,
Yet she desperately searched for words for her to cling.
Clear loud words that would tell her she's not to be blamed
That the love and security she needn't ever doubt
Or even whispered words behind closed doors
that would give clues of conversations, of fights sorted out.
Of course those words never came - loud nor soft.
The wounds of that time partly healed, partly festering
It was then that I began to fully grasp for the first time
why with loved ones, I find silence so unsettling.

So I sat besides this child – still feeling abandoned and lost

and broke the silence to tell her that her grief I shared
I held her with my strength, my love, my wisdom
as I talked to her so she knows that i cared.

I spoke of how conversations needn't be only outside;

Of how within me there was this rich inner world
That held enough words of love, of support and safety
both for me the grown woman, and for the little girl.

Slowly the child within me felt understood,

And on the outside - me the woman - hopeful and light
Knowing that there would be many more such conversations
For now the silence, the aloneness seemed alright.