Even the most beneficial presence casts a shadow. Mythologically, having no shadow means being of another world, not being fully human. To live with our shadow is to understand how human beings live at a frontier between light and dark and to approach the central difficulty: that there is no possibility of a lighted perfection in this life; that the attempt to create it is often the attempt to be held unaccountable, to be the exception, to be the one who does not have to be present or participate, and therefore does not have to hurt or get hurt. To cast no shadow on others is to vacate the physical consequences of our appearance in the world. Shadow is a beautiful, inverse confirmation of our incarnation.
– David Whyte, from Readers’ Circle Essay, “Shadow”
I especially like this part:
To cast no shadow on others is to vacate the physical consequences of our appearance in the world.
I see a part of me – a belief – that’s very afraid to cast shade on anyone else, to in any way hurt, upset or make thing difficult for others. It’s a lonely place. Isolating. Paralyzing. Numbing. It comes from innocent confusion and love. And it’s not aligned with reality, with a more clear love. It’s not aligned with trust. With aliveness. It’s ignoring the wonderful messiness of life, and that I am an equal in life.