When Shadow Speaks: Honoring the Dark as Part of the Light
There’s something I’ve carried pretty quietly for a while now — not because I’m afraid to be vulnerable, but because I’ve always felt such a deep sense of responsibility for the energy I share with the world. I usually lean toward light-filled reflections, offering words and art meant to uplift and inspire. But the truth is, life isn’t always luminous, is it. Shadow is just as much a part of the human journey as light, and hiding it from others feels like a disservice — both to myself and to the connections I hope to cultivate. Today I want to share something raw: a poem called All Tucked In, written in a moment of deep pain during one of the hardest seasons of my life. I offer it not as a polished piece of inspiration, but as an invitation into empathy…into the beauty of being fully human, even when the edges are jagged.
I once read that the top six stressors in life are death, marriage or divorce, moving, job change, personal injury, and financial strain. I’m sure you could think of a few others to add to the list, as well. What would you say if I told you I managed to check off five of those six in just a few short months during the last year of my life — and not by choice? Yep…forced into my own personal remake of Stranger Things where I found myself looking around vast unfamiliar territory trying to figure out how in the hell I ended up in this whacko upside-down scenario and even more importantly, how to find my way out into some semblance of life that offered one iota of familiarity. To say it was a difficult season doesn’t come close to serving justice to the pain and devastation I endured. And I’m a strong, resilient woman. I’ve been through many hard things in my life, but this…this was the sucker-punch of a lifetime. I would share the gory details with you, but you know what? They honestly don’t even matter. Just suffice it to say, I survived blow after blow for over a year and ultimately, made it to the other side of a horrific experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
Shadow moments can feel absolutely unbearable at times, but they’re also the cracks where empathy and connection find their way in - if we allow them, that is. In the early days of my spiritual journey, I thought shadow was a part of myself that would be best acknowledged and discarded…best to leave that “distasteful” baggage behind in the dark where it belongs while I transcend into some perfected version of self. But, the truth is, shadow circles back. Again and again. And eventually, we learn that it’s as much a part of us as the “good” and benevolent qualities we’d rather highlight to the world. If the goal is wholeness, then it requires us to accept all of ourselves. And here’s a wild reality…when shadow is given a voice, creativity gives it form — and in that form, pain begins to loosen its grip. Whether through art, music, dance, or words, allowing shadow to move through us opens the way for release and transformation. This in no way erases the pain of what happened, but it can transmute it into something that carries resonance, honesty, and even beauty.
The poem below was born from that kind of allowance — a raw pouring of vulnerable, volatile emotion insisting on being heard. I share it with you now as an act of authenticity, honoring the dark within the light:
All Tucked In
by Olivia Praga
All tucked in for a good night’s sleep,
Though sheets laced with betrayal and shame are never quite as comfortable, are they?
Don’t be surprised when those low-count threads start unraveling—
Turns out fabric stitched with guilt and abandonment don’t always hold up through the wash.
Adjust your pillow just right—
You’ll need extra cushion to brace
The heaviness of regret crowding your head.
Might wanna pour yourself a nightcap or three, Just to drown out the echoes
Of something once pure…
But there’s no place for truth
Under layers of baggage
And the absence of self-worth.
As dreams decay into nightmares,
Wrap those blankets around you tight-
Though all the fleece in the world
Can’t warm a cold, delusional heart.
Cuddle up to the old and familiar.
It’s what you know best, after all.
Sink deep into your perfectly made bed of self-sabotage—
Get nice and comfortable.
It takes time to wear in different linens.
But at least
—you’re all tucked in.
“Inspiration doesn’t always come wrapped in light; sometimes it lives in the courage to name the shadow.”
Sharing this piece feels like opening a window into a tender part of my journey — one I could easily have kept hidden. But I believe inspiration doesn’t always come wrapped in light; sometimes it comes in the courage to name the shadow and let others see it. If my words stir empathy, or simply remind you that your own struggles are valid and worthy of expression, then this offering has served its purpose. We are not meant to carry only the polished pieces of ourselves into the world. Wholeness asks us to honor both the ache and the beauty, the shadow and the light. And when we share from that place of honesty, we create space for true connection — the kind that holds us all a little closer.
