Shadow Work in Action

Sometimes when we talk about shadow work, it may be difficult to grasp what that actually means — or even what that may look like. While actively doing shadow work recently, I felt a strong desire to share a glimpse of how that process was unfolding for me at that time.

The Pull - An Invitation

For a while now, I have been feeling the pull — the pull of unfinished business. I was being drawn to revisit an old relationship, one that I felt I had processed and integrated as much as I could. And that may have been true; maybe I had done all the work I could up to that point. But after years of doing my own shadow work, I knew that pull meant one thing: shadow’s unfinished business.

It started with a tightness in my chest. It was subtle, but I’ve learned to listen to my body and its cues. This one was a familiar pain — like the pain of an old wound that has long healed but left a scar that, from time to time, still ached.

I wasn’t exactly sure where this pain was coming from, but I started thinking about someone I hadn’t thought about in a long time. It wasn’t just an occasional thought, though. It felt almost intrusive, appearing when I least expected it, and it was happening often — usually accompanied by the pain. I hadn’t felt any ache while thinking about them since we went our separate ways and I did my inner work and integration. For some reason, though, the memories of them would flood my mind, and I would feel a gentle sadness.

Accepting the Invitation

Instead of trying to repress the thoughts and feelings — which I know would be nothing more than a futile attempt to keep things under control — I approached them with curiosity. There is a reason my mind is visiting that person and that relationship, that my heart is aching. 

The pain was guiding me — and I followed. For whatever reason, it needed me to remember what it was to be with that person and in that relationship. To reopen Pandora’s box and sit with all that came out of it. I invited them into my world again and, with them, came the person I was while with them — wounds and all.

For a whole week I shared my world with both of them — that individual and the person I was then. I looked at images that reminded me of that person, listened to songs that brought back memories of my time with them, and revisited conversations we had had. And when emotions began requesting attention, I allowed them to be expressed without minimizing them. When thoughts would emerge, I let them play out as they wished, without judgment or barriers, externalizing them if I felt the need through free writing or whatever form felt necessary. 

As all of this was unfolding, another part of me was observing. It paid attention to my body’s responses, noticing which emotions came up and when the ache was strongest — not just the surface ones, but especially the ones at the root. I noticed that most of the time these thoughts and feelings would arise while I was working on some aspect of my business or during interactions with someone I have recently connected with.

Deeper into the Shadow

Then came the moment when the observer needed to step into the role of compassionate, non-judgmental inquirer. This inquirer may be uncomfortable but requires honesty. So, as it started asking difficult questions — knowing this dance well — I complied, even with some initial resistance (the ego will fight to protect itself). The observer asked: “What is really going on?” And I replied: “It’s nothing, really, just curiosity,” knowing I wasn’t fooling anyone. After a few rounds of “it’s not a big deal,” I released a sigh of surrender and went down the rabbit hole of “what is really going on?”

With the help of the inquirer, I started to ask: “What is it that I feel right before that old memory from that previous relationship comes to mind?” While working on my business, amidst bursts of excitement, I would feel a desire to channel someone driven, for inspiration. Someone who was themselves driven — a quality I admire in others because my internal belief about myself has long been that I am not a driven person. Logically, I can pinpoint countless times where I was driven — yet that’s not how deep-seated beliefs work. This was one part of my shadow being activated.

 Here is the thing about the shadow, it does not only contain parts of ourselves that society might consider unwanted or undesirable. It may also contain parts that are considered positive, but discouraged or unavailable in the environment we grew up in. In my case, being driven was not a trait nurtured growing up. Quite the opposite — the conditioning was that I likely wouldn’t amount to much, so what was the point of being driven? But before this conditioning took root, I had moments of being driven and demonstrated that trait. So, what happened?

When we disown a part of ourselves, it doesn’t go anywhere — it gets pushed into the corner. When we see it reflected in others, we either feel an aversion or a pull towards them. With the “positive” parts, it can manifest as admiration and a desire to be around the person reflecting it; sometimes it becomes a pull to absorb some of what they embody. 

The Gold in the Shadow

Still, why was I thinking about that person while working on my business? Because they were driven, and I admired that about them — and I wished I were like them in that regard. The way I saw them, they were self-sufficient, competent, well-rounded, and persistent regardless of obstacles or perceived defeats. History is full of individuals who — for better or worse — would not quit and kept pushing through. A part of me wanted that. Needed that. And because I had personal experience with this particular person, I could latch onto their memory to inspire my own drive to surface.

Once that became clear, my perception expanded. I realized this part of my shadow had been wanting to make itself known for a while. I noticed a pattern: I was often drawn to driven individuals. They weren’t the first, nor the last. Seeing this helped me understand that I do have a part in me that is driven, and that I can now freely express it instead of projecting it onto others.

The Rot in the Shadow

But what about the ache and the memory of my old self and that old relationship emerging while interacting with this new connection? That part of the process comes from a more familiar wound.

With this new connection, I was the one who was interested and who initiated the conversation. This person, though somewhat responsive, did not seem to engage with the same level of interest. Whatever their reasons, I noticed it triggered a familiar desire within me: the urge to chase them.

I have been down this path before — many times — including with the relationship I had been dwelling on. Usually, it looks like this: I am drawn to someone who, for whatever reason, is not emotionally available or not showing equal interest. Immediately I feel dread and a need to try harder. As a result, I invest more of my time and energy in an attempt to reengage them. Whenever they show the smallest acknowledgment, the dread subsides — until it rises again, restarting the cycle. That relationship was the first time I remember feeling small and unimportant — needing to fight for even the minimum amount of attention and recognition.

See, at some point in my developing years, or sometime later, my nervous system learned that validation of my worth had to be earned through hard work towards another person. That if someone like that valued me, then that meant I was finally worth it. If they didn’t, I would have to face the internal belief that, deep down, haunted me — that I was worthless. Its origin story, though, completely eludes me still.

Embracing the Shadow

This time around, as I started to feel the dread and the desire to chase, I paused instead of acting on it. Shadow work gave me this choice by bringing it to light — now I knew what was behind those feelings and impulses. With the ability to see the options, I chose to sit with it, write about it, let my body express it however it felt called to, cradle this part of me with love and affection, and embrace it fully.

Also, by now, I have already done enough shadow work around this wound to have identified the boundaries I need to implement when I am in these situations. I have found that it is healthier for me to engage with individuals who reciprocate the same level of interest and effort. With that in mind, I chose to respectfully disengage from the connection.

Wholeness

This was only a glimpse of my shadow work in action, since it can — and usually does — involve a lot more over an extended period of time. Honestly, at this point, I have accepted it as an ongoing process. It’s been a long road already, and I feel I have only begun to scratch the surface. Every time I face a part of my shadow, I learn a little more and gain a little more clarity the next time it comes. Today, I am familiar with how my body feels, and I can identify the emotions that arise and the core beliefs they are attached to with more ease than before. 

All of this, however, is only possible because I chose, at some point, to face it. I chose to observe the patterns — and myself while playing out that pattern — without judgment, but with curiosity, compassion, and honesty. To learn all of who I am and work towards integrating those parts into one being.

Extending an Invitation

So, if you would allow me, I would like to extend Shadow’s invitation by asking you:

• What parts of your shadow are waiting to be seen? 

• Can you feel the stir beneath the surface? The soft hum in the echo?

I hope this inspires you towards a path on inner alignment and wholeness. As always, feel free to share your journey or reach out if you have any questions.