by Moira Ashleigh
As we move into the last harvest – the harvest of spirit. I think of the shadow and how it dances around me directed by my movement, the light and sometimes a will of its own. The shadow which dares to be where I cannot. And I wonder at the shadow’s flexibility, gracefulness and subtleties. I see these as a call to find the ways of the dark in creating change, rather than the head on clashes of the light. Things unseen or unnoticed that dance so freely, as I am bound to this form weighted by gravity. My shadow as an extension of myself, not something to fear or reject. When I get there I am amazed by the beauty of the dark.
I never thought about the shadow's flexibility and grace…kind of shifts my whole perception of the dark. Sue Arthen
This elicits an intense feeling of familiarity that I couldn't place at first. Then, out of the depths of my childhood memories I remember reading Peter Pan with my Mom, and then seeing a stage performance of it. The most magical character to me was not Peter or even Tinkerbell. It was Peter's shadow. I still get goose bumps thinking about it.
as a very young child, I recall my mother singing “me and my shadow, my shadow and me, we're always together, we're great company! We make pictures on the floors and wall, like rabbits and ducks, and that's not all… Wherever we go we have company…me and my shadow, my shadow and me!”
From the start is seems, thanks to Mom, I was gifted with the understanding that my shadow and I were complimentary- each could not really fully exist without the other- and yet, shadow needed light to make it “appear”- though my child's mind knew it was there, just hidden….
Thanks for prompting that poignant and significant memory Moira….I'll have to sing it to Robin now in turn…..