Poetry and Shadow Work: Embracing the Liminal Spaces
adapted from the Introduction to Shadoems: Shadow Work through Poems.
Poetry escorts us to thresholds between the familiar and the unknown within us, guiding us into liminal spaces where we encounter things previously avoided, unrecognized, or more complicated than we had imagined. These moments may feel like rare shimmers on a sea of humdrum attention and assumption, yet life is constantly offering invitations to something more.
A poem equips us to accept these invitations, urging us to pause and stretch the boundaries of our awareness. Through its lines, we discover beauty to savor, ambiguities to explore, and stirrings of new wisdom whispering in our ear.
Jungian analyst James Hollis helps illuminate the significance of such thresholds. “The human ego is not capable of full awareness . . . ,” he writes, “it’s not capable of healing itself. It has to come to terms with those parts of itself that are operating in forms that are contrary to its intentionality.”
Hollis is referring to what Jung called the “Shadow”—those aspects of ourselves we might prefer to deny or that exist outside our current perspective. Shadow work is a moral task, calling us to bring into consciousness the truths we might resist. Sometimes, this is a disruptive summons to greatness; other times, it reveals parts of us that seem at odds with our values. In the context of Shadow work, healing is about learning to befriend these tensions, embracing a self that is larger than our present ability to fully comprehend.
For me, the most constructive understanding of Shadow does not frame it primarily as a source of evil or an untouchable dimension of human nature. Instead, I appreciate a view of Shadow as a realm of what lies beyond our current capacity to see—the hidden aspects of who we are and how we relate to the world, operating at a subconscious level but shaping our lives in profound ways. As I read Hollis, I hear an invitation to healing through the ongoing practice of becoming more conscious about these unseen parts and their effects.
This practice is not about judgment or self-condemnation. It is about integration—acknowledging the parts of ourselves we are inclined to ignore: our fears, biases, hidden motives, or unfulfilled longings. But also facing those interior impulses toward compassion or courage so intense they intimidate us. We do not name them to banish them, but to learn from them and to grow in freedom.
Shadow Work
Daily life is full of threshold experiences that bring the Shadow into view. Every poem in this collection is written in the hope that it can become both an affirmation of and active inquiry into this possibility. These poems reflect moments of turning toward reality, seeing more clearly, shedding unworkable presumptions, and recalibrating to integrate what once was hidden.
Because shadow work calls us home to the parts of ourselves we tend to overlook, ignore, or repress, we need tools to navigate this terrain. For me, writing has proven the most reliable form. Poetry’s creative process insists that I re-examine and reframe my relationship to experiences that might otherwise remain unnoticed or underappreciated.
Shadow work, for me, has meant befriending difficult realities like chronic pain, melancholy, loss, and transitions such as empty nesting and vocational shifts. But it has also been about befriending emergence—moments of unexpected contentment, inspiration, and the unraveling of self-limiting narratives. These poems testify to the healing dignity of struggle and discovery, echoing the Scripture, “The truth shall set you free.” More truth, more freedom.
Writing Toward Emergence
Writing these poems often felt like fumbling in the dark, each one a touchstone on the way toward expanded perspective. Writing and revising allowed me to practice bringing the unknown and unwelcomed into view. Old patterns of avoidance had become habitual, and poetry offered a way to tease these truths into the light. Each stanza became a small chance to refocus and reframe things in ways that might translate some bit of wisdom into daily life.
Poems are uniquely suited for this work because they exist at the threshold of clarity and mystery. Not every facet of unknowing or unwelcoming can be fully articulated, for the Shadow dwells beyond our current awareness. Yet, in their attempt to name an experience authentically, poems become natural companions for exploring the Shadow.
The Invitation
This collection is for those walking along the edge of their own Shadow and wanting to nourish their sense of curiosity and solidarity. These poems are companions for times when the world’s ambiguity feels overwhelming, when the inner life stirs with uncertainty and contradiction. I hope they offer you invitations to pause at your own thresholds and linger long enough for something new to emerge.
The readers most likely to find this collection meaningful are living into questions like mine:
How do I engage this season of life more fully, being increasingly honest about the limitations within and around me?
How do I wrestle more creatively with the rumblings and contradictions of my interior life?
What grace do I need to accept discomfort and struggle not as interruptions or anomalies, but as dignified aspects of the human journey—just as valuable as moments of ease and contentment?
Shadoems in Eight Parts
The collection is organized into eight sections, each exploring a facet of shadow work:
On Shadow: Befriending the tensions between the seen and unseen, the known and unknown.
Shimmers: Fleeting glimpses of beauty and insight as constant invitations to something more.
Fumblings: Reflections on the clumsy, vulnerable, imperfect process of facing the Shadow.
Meditations: Quiet ways to linger in ambiguity, savoring questions without rushing toward answers.
Contradictions: Explorations of the holistic interplay between opposites—joy and sorrow, clarity and confusion.
Labors: Reminders of the dignity of human work and the formation that accompanies it.
Longings: Stirring desires for purpose, connection, and mutual understanding all too often unspoken.
Wonders: Encounters with awe and reverence that leave us humbled and free.
The Nature of Creativity and Freedom
There’s a risk in over-psychologizing Shadow work, so let me offer a metaphor from one poem in the section On Shadow. Averted Gaze studies one of nature’s great mysteries—that the human eye is hardwired to perceive celestial wonders best when looking slightly away. Some stars seem dim, even imperceivable, when viewed directly. This is because our eyes rely on distinct photoreceptor cells in the retina: cones, which detect color in bright light, and rods, which are sensitive to dim light and are concentrated in our peripheral vision.
Ancient astronomers taught stargazers to look just to the side of a dim object in the heavens in order to see it more clearly. Something similar is true in shadow work:
"See with eye’s edge when things lack brightness."
We were made for this. To realize freedom, however, we must employ a bit of creativity in how we choose to see.
Closing Encouragement
If, at any point while reading, you find yourself encountering something that feels like too much or too soon, go gently with yourself. Shadow work unfolds best with patience and compassionate attention.
May these poems serve as companions for you as you navigate your own thresholds. Whether you are facing loss, transition, or simply the quiet unease of uncertainty, may you discover dignity in struggle, beauty in ambiguity, and wisdom waiting to emerge from the shadows.