The Dark Side of the Mind

It may seem strange to welcome negative,

destructive emotions. Isn't it right to be afraid of

acting on such unwholesome impulses?

Once on a silent meditation retreat, I noticed that I had taken a dislike to another woman. I had never spoken to her, or even met her before. Where was this ill-will was coming from? After a while, the penny dropped. In physical appearance, she reminded me of a girl who had bullied me at school. On this 'basis', I had formed an unfounded dislike of someone I knew almost nothing about. Once I understood what was happening, the bad feeling melted away. I learned an uncomfortable truth about my mind that day. I had caught a glimpse of what the psychologist Carl Jung called the shadow. An unconscious hinterland where we tuck away the 'unacceptable' parts of our psyche. Aspects we don't like to identify with: selfishness; rage and desire. (I had felt anger, fear and shame over the bullying, but at the time I tried to keep that hidden, even from myself). The process begins in childhood and affects our adult personalities. And it isn't only emotions. It's also our fixed views, prejudices and unconscious biases.

It's less well known that the shadow also refers to our hidden potential. We'll come to that.

It was sobering to recognise the unfairness of my animosity. Yet it left me a little wiser. In the meditative silence, it had been easier to become aware of the source of my dislike. I saw that unfounded judgments must be happening at other times, under the radar. How often were my prejudices going unchallenged?

Shadow work is a process of bringing suppressed parts of ourselves into consciousness. We learn to accept them; even, give them some love. Mindfulness and compassion practice are forms of shadow work. Mindfulness practice encourages us to shine the light of awareness on our states of mind. All of them! We learn to notice our emotions without judgement. We become more aware of how it feels to hide some shameful part of ourselves. Over time, we get to know our underlying drives and motivations a little better. Compassion practice goes a step further. We learn to meet these unwanted elements with kindness, forgiveness and care. Even, to welcome them. After all, they are a part of who we are.

It may seem strange to welcome negative, destructive emotions. Isn't it right to be afraid of acting on such unwholesome impulses? Most people don't aspire to be selfish and hateful. But suppressed emotions can drive our behaviour even more than those we are conscious of. Allowing them into awareness in a spirit of acceptance makes us less likely to act them out. It brings understanding and helps us to move on.

When we fail to see our less palatable tendencies, we project them onto other people. We see them as selfish or angry, with real effects on our relationships. And this becomes amplified in the society we’re part of when our prejudices coincide. In a further psychological twist, we are prone to 'bias blind spot'. We assume that it's only other people who are biased. That we ourselves simply see the truth. This would be laughable if it weren't so pernicious.

Meeting the inner shadow requires courage. It can be uncomfortable, yet it is a powerful source of wisdom. It reduces the assumption that it is only other, 'bad' people who may do bad things. Seeing one's own selfish motivations cuts through such black and white thinking. The less blind we are to our own shadow, the less judgmental we are both of ourselves and others. We all share in the light and the dark. In similar circumstances, we could be capable of bad things too. We see deeper into the human mind; the human condition.

Jung pointed out that the shadow was not only about the 'bad' stuff. It can also be a lack of recognition of our strengths. We may project our own potential confidence, attractiveness and wisdom onto personal heroes. Celebrities; sports people; heartthrobs. It can be as scary to 'own' our strengths as it is our weaknesses. In Marianne Williamson's famous words:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? … We are all meant to shine, as children do … And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Writing this article is prompting me to explore my own experience of the positive shadow.

I have practised Buddhism since my twenties. The purpose of the practice is to understand the mind directly, just as it is, free of likes, dislikes and biases. This awareness gives rise to greater equanimity and compassion. Over the years I have heard of and read about many insightful teachers. I have met people who seemed wise. But for many years I saw that as being a quality in other people. Even though the teachings are explicit: clear seeing of the nature of things is open to any human being.  I would have agreed that most people have, at the very least, insightful moments. I too had had glimpses of deeper understanding. Yet, I dismissed my own potential. But I began to see this dismissal as unhelpful. “Why do I imagine myself to be uniquely incapable?” was a useful question.

A few years ago, I was on an online insight meditation retreat. At the time, I was feeling miserable. A health problem was making the winter months more of a slog than ever. My Mum’s dementia was getting worse, which I found upsetting. And she would die soon. One day, something opened in my mind. I saw with crystal clarity that there was no problem with my Mum’s demise. It could not be otherwise. I saw that everything arises and passes on, including me and everyone I knew. Also, everyone who had ever existed, or ever would. It was deeply peaceful to be aligned with this truth; to know it in my bones. No argument. No resistance. Afterwards, I recalled the words of Julian of Norwich: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” I felt that I knew what she meant.

But glimpses of clarity are also transitory! I have not yet made my peace, once and for all, with the fact that everything, sooner or later, comes to an end. That everyone dies. Including me! But what I saw in those moments has given me greater confidence in the potency of my own practice.

As I write, there are sunlight and shadows flickering on the wall: a play of light and dark. Our shadow sides may likewise include brightness in the midst of darkness. Mindfulness practice shows us what really goes on in the mind. And that is not always pretty! Meanwhile, it opens us to our own potential for peace and understanding. Compassion teaches us to meet distress with tenderness and love. Shining a light on the best and worst in ourselves, we become more whole.