Journal, Aug 30 2021: Looking the shadow in the eyes

Because I have rejected my natural ego, the shadow ego was birthed.
The shadow ego became a hungry creature eating away from my soul substance.
And the shadow ego grew stronger and stronger with each rejection of my natural ego.

With time I have forgot almost anything related to my natural ego.
My real personality, my real identity. My soul.

I have learned to live in a cave, at the outskirts of my own being.
Afraid of the monster, afraid of the shadow, afraid of myself.
Disguising myself in all ways possible – forgetting even to myself who I really was – so that the shadow couldn’t find me.

Me – the real me, my soul, my identity. What is it? Who am I?

This hungry shadow used all the pieces of my broken identity and used them as crystals to give birth to entire universes.
Universes upon universes of falsehood, build upon rejection and fear, and me – the cast out god – a fugitive in my own mind.
Trying to escape my own creation.

Then the shadow grew larger with each of my steps to escape.
My fear and rejection feeding its universes of power.

Like the classical story of the machines turning against the humans. The mind – our top AI technology to assist our journeys through life – turned against its own master. A rebellion, a revolution. There to prove equality between creator and creation.

I started living like a slave to my own mind, helplessly feeding the beast in my terror of it.

Thus, stories upon stories upon stories of falsehood had room to emerge and energy to live.
Instead of facing my fears I gave my light to the shadow.
And the light was used to populate and grow its universes of falsehood.

Me turned against myself, in a brilliant contemplative way. Who is it to not wonder at the curiosity of life?

Soon I started obeying my master, lowering my head, playing its roles.
My light became identified with the stories. The emotions – a sweet nectar of forgetfulness and terror – binding me, seducing me like an inebriated Odysseus lost on its ship.

I became the roles, the stories – feeding them from inside out with an almost pristine mind of what I was before.
And the shadow seemed to laugh from the corner of my eyes. An invisible joker, the poker player of my life.
There to seduce me and terror me, until I learned to look it in the eyes.
Embrace my shadow, turn my eyes back on my self.

Now each piece of my real self, my initial crystal – hidden behind a muddy story.
And now I had to accept living all the terrors, looking in the eyes of the joker with the little life had left.

And each monster would laugh in my face, ready to devour me completely, at the slightest step of fear or rejection. Thus I had to look the monsters in the eyes, gaining back my real identity by “loving the monster”. And in the heart of each monster I would re-find myself. A piece of the initial crystal.

Like the beast and the beauty story, I had to love my shadow to set myself free.
Kiss my own frogs and de-cast my own spells.

Trying to rebuild the tower.

I wonder if the initial kingdom would ever be rebuilt.