Image: The courageous heart of the shadow.
We live in a culture that glorifies busyness. Success is often measured by how much we can achieve before we even pause to breathe. Slowing down can feel like falling behind, and resting is sometimes mistaken for laziness. But what if the pace we've been taught to idolize isn't the one that serves us best?
Today, as I sat in my office, I heard a woman in the next room speaking on the phone. Her voice was fast, clipped, filled with the kind of tension that vibrates just beneath the surface. Listening to her, I felt an unexpected wave of recognition. She sounded like me years ago—before yoga became more than just a physical practice in my life.
There was a time when I ran myself thin, juggling responsibilities and striving to meet every expectation, often at the cost of my health. I didn’t realize I was suffering from adrenal fatigue, nor did I understand how much I needed to pause, to breathe, to simply be. But back then, that pace felt normal. It felt necessary.
After 20 years of yoga, my life feels different. There’s a calmness now, a sense of being centered that wasn’t there before. I find joy in the small moments—in a quiet morning, in a deep breath, in the soft rhythm of life unfolding. But as I listened to that woman today, I realized something important: the version of me who was constantly rushing, constantly pushing, wasn’t wrong or bad. She was doing the best she could with what she knew at the time.
But here’s the truth—even now, that part of me still exists. The driven, overachieving version hasn’t disappeared; she’s just not in the driver’s seat anymore.
As Connie Zweig explores in Romancing the Shadow, our shadow selves—the parts we often suppress or reject—hold valuable truths. That restless energy, that need to achieve, was born from a desire to feel worthy, to matter. Ignoring or dismissing those parts doesn't heal them; it only deepens the divide within us.
Spiritual growth isn't about becoming a "better" version of ourselves. It’s about expanding our awareness and embracing all parts of our journey—even the messy, chaotic, and painful parts. It’s about recognizing that every version of ourselves—past, present, and future—is worthy of compassion. It's about turning toward the shadows with curiosity, asking, "What were you trying to protect me from? What did you need that I wasn't giving you?"
If you’re in a season of life where everything feels overwhelming, where slowing down seems impossible, I see you. I’ve been there. And while I’ve found more peace now, I honor that driven, exhausted version of myself just as much as I cherish who I am today. Because she still whispers in moments of stress, reminding me of an indomitable courage and strength that sits beneath the noisy surface. She knew the path would turn and she would be the cause of a clearer view and a better day.
Growth isn’t about leaving behind who we were. It’s about integrating every part of our journey, understanding that each phase teaches us something valuable. The shadows, the light, the in-betweens—they all belong. So wherever you are on your path—whether you’re sprinting, walking, or resting—know that every step, even the hurried ones, are part of your unfolding story. And when the shadows rise, meet them with kindness—they have something to teach you, too.
I hope this resonates with you on your own path, wherever you may be. Namaste.
Katie de Araujo
Body Centred Living