Some Things I Learned from the Shadow...

"The panic of the Depression loosened my inhibitions against being different. I could be myself." - Emanuel Celler.

I read this quote on Facebook a few days ago. Except when I read it, my eyes saw "The panic of depression loosened my inhibitions against being different. I could be myself."

I chuckled to myself when I realized my reading error, but not before I realized just how true it was for me. The misread, I mean. (Not that I'm minimizing the strife of The Depression or in any way comparing my own largely self-created dramas to something so large and impactful.)

It is true though. My own foray into the shadows brought me more clarity than I have ever obtained during kinder times.

I feel much more liberty to be my Self since I fell completely apart.

Here's the short version of the descent:

I took a job at a drug and alcohol detox facility in order. I thought I could be of service...

My therapist warned me: "You can do this job. But only if you check in a lot."

This is not a story about how good I was at checking in... In fact, I pretty much handed the reins over to my ego and said, "Yeehaw!"

 I was so permeable. I loved every client. Even the ones I hated. They went right through me.

I stopped sleeping.

And eating.

Needless to say, I didn't meditate much and I completely avoided my therapist for several months.

I broke up with my long-time on/off boyfriend. (which would end up being a necessary step but caused a lot of stress at the time).

I promptly took up with someone who was horribly physically and emotionally abusive.

I flipped my truck on the highway.

I was taken down with a horrible sinus infection + double ear infection.

And then, I completely cracked. I went to my best friend, my parents and my therapist. I told them the truth - that I was completely lost in the woods with no way to find my the path home. Not without help. I was sick and thin and pale and broken. I had done a reasonable job of hiding it. I'm a pretty decent actress (or maybe I just fooled myself and no one else).

I could go back another few years:

My marriage fell apart before my daughter turned two.

I suddenly became a single mother (I was making $12 an hour at the time). Thank God my daughter has been so very patient with me.

I had a disastrous affair with an older man which left me almost irreparably heart sick (and with mono followed by pneumonia).

I hurt people. I hurt myself.

These are among the darkest times of my life. I relay them even though it makes me the villain of my own story because I find it impossible to even begin to convince you that I could be the heroine of my own story without first relaying my villainy.

Because of this darkness, I found my yoga. Hallelujah! That love story will be a story for another time but suffice it to say that it was instrumental in learning to love myself again.

Because of all the lies I heard from myself and others, I am all the more truthful with my thoughts and words.

After my most recent (and lowest) low. I went to my doctor. He diagnosed me as having a major depressive episode. It was such a relief to pull all the disparate seeming symptoms together and put a name to them. He put me on Cipralex. It helped almost immediately. I could at least see the path again.

I took an entire month off work and practiced gentle yoga therapy with my brilliant teacher. I received Reiki treatments from my friend, P. I got massages and manicures. I walked my daughter to school. I spent time with my kindest and most insightful friends. I went to bed early and slept through the night. I reconnected.

It was a humbling experience to hit my knees.

And yet...

I think the darkness takes my ridiculously happy Now from trite to poignant in the same way that my breakdown took me from cocky to humble.

He (my Love, not my puppy) has had his own wrestles with shadows. The specifics are not for me to share, but suffice it to say that neither one of us is exempt from the fragility of this time of our lives that is so filled with light.

We are tender with it and with each other. We regularly take time to appreciate its rare beauty. It is the first snowflake of the year landing on your black mitten. God has spared no detail in its perfection and we extol this loveliness often. We have been low enough to appreciate this high for what it is. It is nothing short of miraculous. We bow to the presence that created it and pat one another on the back for surviving the lessons that lead us here, separately so we could revel in it together.

Authenticity requires a certain vigilance, doesn't it? Any time we become complacent, the shadow is right there, ready to snatch us from our sleep and cause our heart to race.

How do you stay vigilant? What lessons are you grateful for? How about the times you took the wrong road and ended up in the right place anyway?


Humbly,

Er