The Weight of the Shadow

Today what I usually call “the dark” appeared, but not as a threat. More as weight. It wasn’t a monster; it was a density in the air. As if a part of me said, “stop running, I’m already here.”

I realized the dark isn’t always negative. Sometimes it’s what I haven’t lived. Or what I lived and pushed aside. Or what I know I am but feel ashamed to admit. The shadow doesn’t arrive to destroy — it arrives to complete. And that is harder, because completion asks you to drop the mask.

Today it bothered me to see how much of my life is built to avoid that encounter. The speed, the tasks, the noise. All of it is a wall. But the wall doesn’t protect; it only postpones. What we avoid doesn’t leave — it organizes in the background.

If I learned anything today, it’s that the shadow doesn’t need drama. It needs space. A corner where it can appear without me running away. Perhaps the only way to integrate something is to stop fighting it. Look at it. Name it. And admit that I am that too.