Meet Scarlett

There’s been a lot of buzz lately about our “Shadows,” especially since the recent release of The Shadow Effect from co-authors Deepak Chopra, Debbie Ford and Marianne Williamson.

Briefly stated, Shadows are those unsavory aspects of our personalities that we’ve repressed, but which continue to subconsciously wreak havoc in our individual and collective lives. If, however, we can bring those aspects of ourselves back into our conscious awareness, we can discover and harness their gifts. This is what’s known as “embracing the Shadow.”

Does that mean that if I have a rage-aholic Shadow, I should embrace that rage and go around consciously hurting people? No, of course not. It means that if I look consciously at the source of all that rage I might be able to take the energy of anger to make positive changes in the world, to right some wrongs. Or maybe I can take the physicality of that energy and channel it into marathon running. Once the rage has a safe and productive outlet, it doesn’t have to sneak up on me (or those around me) anymore.

This past Saturday, I led a group of women in an exploration of a Shadow Self through mask-making and journaling. My own mask, and the work I did with it, was quite revealing and healing.

For the past several months, I have been working to develop the structure and direction of my Artful Alchemist practice with my wonderful coach and EFT master, Rev. Anne Presuel. During the course of our work together it has become apparent that I have HUGE resistance to all things marketing.

In a recent session together, Anne helped me to tap into a key image for what I’ve been resisting. The visual that represents my distaste about sales and marketing is that of a prostitute standing on the street corner hiking her skirt. I don’t want to prostitute myself, I don’t want to sell my soul, I don’t want to be all flash (and flesh!), I’m not interested in offering a quick trick or a fast fix, I don’t want my work to be all about the money, yada, yada, yada. Wow! Juicy Shadow stuff!

So, guess what shadow I chose to explore with my mask-making?

Meet Scarlett, my Shadow Prostitute:

She's actually a rather lovely painted lady and I'm growing quite fond of her. Here are a few excerpts from what she had to say to me through journaling dialogue:

“I am Scarlett, but NOT Scarlett the Harlot as you’ve been thinking of me. Think more along the lines of Scarlett O’Hara. I am strong and resourceful, but not afraid to use my own beauty.”

"What are you afraid of, darlin'? Little Ole Me? Why, I don't bite Baby Girl, unless of course that's what you want."

“I am the one who knows she’s got it. I ain’t afraid to shine, to sparkle, to PUT IT OUT THERE.”

“I am the one who knows my worth and demands it. AND GETS IT!”

“I am the one who entices with flash, but delivers substance.”

"I can help you be a better business woman. Believe me, you get pretty money-savvy turning tricks. You don't get taken advantage of for long. Not when you decide to run your own show, anyway."

Oh, my dear Scarlett! Let me embrace all of that!

Is Emotional Pain Necessary?

Remembering Cameron by ArtfulAlchemist on Polyvore.com

Is Emotional Pain Necessary?

This is the question posed by today’s NPR piece, which talks about a recent change in the American Psychiatric Association’s new Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, or DSM. The proposal is to remove the “bereavement exclusion” from the guidelines for diagnosing major depression. In other words, if one’s grief is severe and lasts too long, it should be treated like depression. How long is too long? In the words of the article:

“ . . . if symptoms like these [acute upset, loss of sleep, appetite, energy and concentration] persist for more than two weeks, the bereaved person will be considered to have a mental disorder: major depression. And treatment, either therapy or medication, is recommended.”

TWO WEEKS?!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!!

Are we, as a culture, so afraid of feeling the depths of our emotion that we would choose to medicate the pain of grief as soon as two weeks out from a major loss? It seems ludicrous to me.

After losing my son six years ago, my journey of grief (which I chronicle in my award-winning book The Deep Water Leaf Society) took at least TWO YEARS and in many ways continues even today. Were there days that I would have liked to take a pill and make the pain stop? Yes. And if I had, would I have learned and experienced all that I did and healed so completely? I think not. For me expressive arts, journaling and dreamwork allowed me to honor my pain, learn from it and heal by moving headlong into my pain, not running away from it.

It is the conscious journey through our grief that creates healing. In my opinion, if you stuff it down, ignore it, drown it in alcohol or happy it up with Prozac you will miss the meaning, the lessons, the growth that come from being real about how it feels. I learned more about myself and let go of more useless baggage during those two years of healing than I had in my entire life up to that point. I am a better person because of my loss and because of the very real pain it caused. Had I numbed the pain with Prozac, I know my loss would not have created the same level of positive personal transformation.

I am reminded of Kirk in Star Trek V: The Final Frontier. When the mysterious mystic Syvok wants to take away everyone's pain, Kirk is the only hold-out while everyone else is all silly with nirvanic joy. "Damn it, Bones,” says Kirk, “you're a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can't be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They're the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don't want my pain taken away! I need my pain!"

I’m with Kirk on this one.

It’s not that we should choose to live in the depths of that pain permanently. And certainly if someone becomes suicidal or is completely unable to function for long periods of time there may be some call for intervention. But to put an arbitrary timeframe on how long it should take to process the pain of grief is ridiculous.

TWO WEEKS?!!! I don’t think it’s we grievers who have a mental disorder. I think the authors of the DSM should have their own heads examined!