This was visceral in the truest way. The confrontation with the shadow felt frighteningly honest. It's not as an enemy to defeat, but something that refuses erasure. I was struck by the refusal to make healing tidy, and by that final turn toward taking one’s place rather than escaping it. Beautiful, unsettling, and true. ✨
This felt really poignant for me. It made me realize something about one of the parts I worked with last year. This feels like a study in shadow work. <3
Kim, it's been long overdue for me to read some of your writing and I'm so glad I came to your wonderful corner of the bookshop today.
The line “You wear sorrow like armor” lands especially hard. It names something many people mistake for depth or responsibility: pain curated rather than endured. This piece doesn’t ask the reader to admire suffering—it asks whether they’ve actually let it change them.
What works so powerfully here is that you don’t let the encounter resolve into victory or integration clichés. The shadow isn’t defeated, healed, or banished—it’s acknowledged as ineluctable. That refusal to offer closure feels both braver and more truthful than redemption arcs we’re usually handed.
And the ending—walking away to take my place—is quietly devastating. Not escape. Not enlightenment. Just inhabiting oneself without alibi.
To me, this doesn't feel like it's a story about fighting the shadow.
It’s about finally stopping the performance of survival.
Mark! Thanks for stopping in and for taking the time to read and comment so thoughtfully. I’m a fan of Jung’s concept of shadow integration. As such, it’s never defeated only given a place more fully in our lives. It has much to teach us.
Wow loved this . . If love can be the right word. It was like looking in a mirror. We can be so good at performing pain, I'm using effort as a shield to deflect from truth. And it's dreadful to have to admit. Reading this I see I'm not alone
What came home to me in this story is the part where The Shadow talks about all the techniques, tools and Practices that we employ to deflect, ignore or bury the shadow. Those things aren't bad, they just have their limitations. And The Shadow remains, which is okay because The Divine Source of All Origin (Papa God, as I refer to Her) loves, forgives, and accepts us wholeheartedly . . . including our shadow.
Yes. The goal with the shadow is integration, not exile. Those tools are healthy when they help us know and then accept the shadow. It always plays much nicer when it's given a place.
A beautiful telling piece that tells a tale of healing and the fight within ourselves . Truly inspiring. Thank you 🧡
This was visceral in the truest way. The confrontation with the shadow felt frighteningly honest. It's not as an enemy to defeat, but something that refuses erasure. I was struck by the refusal to make healing tidy, and by that final turn toward taking one’s place rather than escaping it. Beautiful, unsettling, and true. ✨
Thank for reading with such attention, JG. I’m glad it spoke to you. 😎
This felt really poignant for me. It made me realize something about one of the parts I worked with last year. This feels like a study in shadow work. <3
It is that, in part, Andrea. You’ve read it well. Thanks for reading and letting me know!
Ugh, made me feel funny. Loved it.
Pre-read:
"I’m still here,” he says. “And if you walk past me without naming me, I will follow you. Forever.”
I don’t answer. My hand curls into a fist.
He sees it. Smiles wider. “Ah. There you are.”
The fog shudders.
And I strike."
I would strike too.
It’s a requirement.
So so so good. Thank you for sharing.
Glad you liked it. Thanks for reading.
You’re welcome, love.
Kim, it's been long overdue for me to read some of your writing and I'm so glad I came to your wonderful corner of the bookshop today.
The line “You wear sorrow like armor” lands especially hard. It names something many people mistake for depth or responsibility: pain curated rather than endured. This piece doesn’t ask the reader to admire suffering—it asks whether they’ve actually let it change them.
What works so powerfully here is that you don’t let the encounter resolve into victory or integration clichés. The shadow isn’t defeated, healed, or banished—it’s acknowledged as ineluctable. That refusal to offer closure feels both braver and more truthful than redemption arcs we’re usually handed.
And the ending—walking away to take my place—is quietly devastating. Not escape. Not enlightenment. Just inhabiting oneself without alibi.
To me, this doesn't feel like it's a story about fighting the shadow.
It’s about finally stopping the performance of survival.
Loved it.
Mark! Thanks for stopping in and for taking the time to read and comment so thoughtfully. I’m a fan of Jung’s concept of shadow integration. As such, it’s never defeated only given a place more fully in our lives. It has much to teach us.
Thank you @Kim Williams, M.Div., and that really came through in the piece.
Glad I stopped by too 😊
Wow
Thanks. I think. 🤓😏 Seriously, glad you popped by.
An excellent and very tangible illustration of "what you resist persists"
Well said, Kate. Thank you for stopping by.
Wow loved this . . If love can be the right word. It was like looking in a mirror. We can be so good at performing pain, I'm using effort as a shield to deflect from truth. And it's dreadful to have to admit. Reading this I see I'm not alone
Oh Nat, you’re not alone. In our humanity — no matter what shape— we’re not alone. Thanks for the reminder.
I enjoyed this 🖤
Thank you, very much.
So interesting 🫶
Hiya, Hina!
Incredibly powerful about the demons many of us carry inside us.
Demons, yes, but really just shadows that need to be better integrated.
Invisible pain still hurts, even when no one sees it.
Erin! You're spot on. That's a nice take on this.
I am glad you see it that way too.
What came home to me in this story is the part where The Shadow talks about all the techniques, tools and Practices that we employ to deflect, ignore or bury the shadow. Those things aren't bad, they just have their limitations. And The Shadow remains, which is okay because The Divine Source of All Origin (Papa God, as I refer to Her) loves, forgives, and accepts us wholeheartedly . . . including our shadow.
Yes. The goal with the shadow is integration, not exile. Those tools are healthy when they help us know and then accept the shadow. It always plays much nicer when it's given a place.
This was great, Kim. It reminded me a little of Genesis 32. Did he leave you limping?
I can't say Genesis 32 wasn't on my mind, indirectly – still there. I'm glad you enjoyed it.