Shadowlove

Shadowlove

 

There are some dark spaces that reside in removed places, a corner of a cockle. Spaces removed and cut away in order to save the rest from the decry or detest. But each part removed for safety leaves an echo or imprint of what was and is still there. What is this I speak of? This, I speak of, is shadowlove.

 

The practice of removing for safety and senses makes the most sense to the most sensible people but those who do not look past their own aims miss their mark: sensible becomes sin.

 

In all this cutting away and other dark business is there not a silver-lining? A redemptive line just as busy? Loving shadows is a tricky thing. It is not possible to love them for what they are nor is it wise to love them for what they were but instead ascribe to the practice of loving what could be: shadowlove is love’s potential. The background and forethought towards forgiveness, that finder and fosterer of so many bad dreams. Takes balm to bad in order to overcome the aftershocks when other shadows come. For shadowlove is not itself that stagnate but pulls itself toward every other absence. This is why holes in the heart that are not treated grow fast and well into a thing we shall call a dark dwell to which there is potentially no bottom. But before we chase destruction to no ends we must first defend the other side.

 

Capacity and repletion echo from this other side: remedies to absences and the shadowy forces that divide. Following the physics that I have aforementioned, shadow cannot pull to make a hole of whole. In my prescription, the heart should ever grow not with absence or dwell but in its capacity to hold more and well. But to do this rightly and for permanence, the heart must pass through this flexing: the heart must be cut, at first glance divided by darkness to make space for possible regrowth. In this shadow, shadowlove new love can be born.