CHAPTER
9
Why Circle Takes Us to the Shadow

The strength of the circle environment allows a broad range of human interaction and provides enough structure so that people have insights that increase their capacities. This includes unconscious material that comes forward for healing. As we gain experience, circle helps hold and integrate the natural complexity and diversity of human beings.

We get very busy in the spheres of our lives, focused on a hundred things we consider essential and important. Yet when we slow down, as circle slows us down, the issues submerged under our busyness rise to the surface. Sometimes this is a gentle process—like looking around a circle of friends and thinking, Wow, I really belong. These people—we care about each other, and feeling our hearts open and threads of storyline weave into our check-in. Sometimes what’s going on in us is a shock—like listening to a circle of colleagues checking in with one negative comment after another and thinking, Boy, are we exhausted or what? We can’t even tap into something hopeful to say to each other, and feeling overwhelmed. We slow down. We start to listen to our inner story and the stories around us. We look around, and sometimes we see clearly who is in the circle with us and sometimes we recall a figure from the past or sense an aspect of ourselves we have not claimed or a reflection that seems cloudy and disturbing. This eruption of personal history and the psychological veil that fell over the present was modeled in the story of Diana and Doug in the preceding pages. These are all aspects of the human shadow.

This use of the term shadow originated with the visionary work of Swiss psychiatrists Carl Gustav Jung and Marie-Louise von Franz, who used the word to refer to “the parts of ourselves that we have been unable to know.”¹ Jung and von Franz theorized that every person develops both a known and an unknown self and that the known self casts a shadow self, just as we cast a shadow when walking in sunlight. This concept has been broadly integrated into psychological thinking and has recently spread into more common usage as a way to talk about the confusing issues that arise whenever people get together.

That’s the key idea: issues arise when people get together. We’ve been noticing this since the first stranger wandered into the firelight, sat on the wrong rock, and committed a social faux pas. How do we create and sustain community when we are all imperfect? How do we handle our volatility and vulnerability and keep focused on the purpose of the group? To address these questions, we start with an assumption: most of the time, most people are trying to offer the best of themselves to a group’s experience, and we stumble and fumble and thwart that process unintentionally. Part of the resilience of leadership at the rim is becoming aware of how these dynamics show up and helping ourselves and others get through the rough spots and get on with our vision, intention, and appreciation of each other’s presence. Circle brings us experiences of great depth and fulfillment—the ways our stories move our hearts, the courage and authenticity called forth in each other, the deep satisfaction of a process gone well and celebrations of accomplishment. All these experiences help us trust the circle to hold us as shadow comes forward.

How Shadow Shows Up

The minister of a mainstream city church was dying of cancer. He kept bravely showing up at work, racing against time to leave his legacy. However, Reverend Larry was an extremely private person, and he had not explicitly told the congregation what was going on. Some people noticed his loss of weight, his dwindling energy, and his shift in leadership style as he became more directive about those things he felt compelled to complete. Some people continued to see him as he was and were oblivious to these subtle changes. Those in the governing council, who knew of his condition, were sworn to secrecy.

Lorraine, Larry’s wife, was also under tremendous pressure. She coped with constant shifts in their daily lives, driving to all his radiation treatments and doctors’ appointments, cycling through stages of grief without a place of comfort and collapse for herself. Sometimes she even believed that Larry could overcome this disease through faith and willpower. And sometimes she pleaded with him to deal more openly with people, to ask for help, to talk with their young adult children, to let her tell a few friends. His response had been, “I’ve prayed about this, and this is how I want to handle it. I will tell the congregation when God tells me to. Meanwhile, I’m asking you to trust my process and stand by me.”

This is a situation rife with shadow—everyone is doing his or her best to honor the reverend’s wishes, consciously or unconsciously, and to hold the community together and prepare for what they know and don’t know the future will hold. This is a true story whose context has been disguised to protect privacy and honor confidentiality: it is an amalgam of several consulting situations.

In PeerSpirit, we define shadow as any covert energy residing in the group—in other words, the undiscussables. Covert means “covered”: things that are in hiding. So when looking for shadow in circle process, helpful questions include these:

Are topics being avoided?

What assumptions or behaviors are not addressed?

What power issues are not explored?

Who does not own their power, avoiding invitations to shine in the shared leadership of the group?

How am I involved in these behaviors or reactions?

The purpose of addressing shadow is to make it overt. Overt means “open”: things that are fully revealed. So as we acknowledge shadow, helpful questions include these:

How are we expanding our courage to speak authentically with each other?

What do we already know about trust, and what do we want to preserve about trust?

How am I willing to show up and be fully myself?

What infrastructure of circle process needs to be called forward so that we can address this together?

As soon as we name something and lean in to look at it together, we shift it from covert to overt energy.

This shift is the essence of shadow work, individually, as a group, and as nations, religions, and cultures: we have the capacity, by dealing with shadow, to expand the territory of our consciousness and shrink the territory of our unconsciousness. If we are to progress toward a just world for ourselves and all beings, we must recognize the imperative for increasing human consciousness. Circle plays a profound role in our abilities to expand consciousness: it brings us to each other and holds us together while we grow.

Reverend Larry does not know that he has shadow issues about his own dying. He assumes that he is handling his cancer in the clearest way possible and that he is helping his congregation by holding back the news week by week until “the people have to know.” In this congregation, which is practicing circle as part of its committee structure, governance council, and interest and study groups, the circle can help—as soon as the veil of silence is lifted.

Though he doesn’t ever truly drop out of facilitation mode to share his most authentic thoughts and feelings in circle conversations, Larry considers himself a thoughtful host and guardian. He believes, as a minister, that his role is different from anyone else’s and that is it not appropriate for him to ask for or reveal anything that might stress his flock. (This is his interior shadow.) Larry’s value on self-moderating leads him to be quite judgmental of people who “take up too much space” or “suck energy out of the group.” (This is his projected shadow.) Larry has a hard time explaining himself to the bishop, and people who know him at church would be surprised to learn of his submissive streak. (This is his transference shadow.)

Interior shadow is doing something that we don’t see ourselves doing. The church sexton speaks in a tone of voice that others consistently perceive as aggressive, yet he doesn’t hear it himself and gets defensive when it’s mentioned. “What? This is just how we talk in my family. We’re Italian!” The organist has a tendency to nod compulsively in apparent agreement whenever Larry or another male authority speaks in circle and rolls her eyes whenever a woman speaks. If someone asked about her body language, she would be astonished. “I am absolutely sure I’m not doing that. It’s totally not like me. Why would I do such a thing?”

Going back to the definition of shadow from its Jungian source—that we have both an accepted and a forbidden self—these covert behaviors most often stem from adaptations we made in childhood while doing our best to figure out who we really are. In the sexton’s big Italian family, having a loud voice was accepted as how a person established a place at the table; for the organist, as a vulnerable child of a violent father, agreeing with Papa and discounting Mama was required to navigate safely through childhood. For Larry, the youngest of three sons, not asking and not telling was a family norm. The father sat at the head of the table and expected good daily reports from each child. “Tell me how well you’re doing,” he’d say. That’s all he wanted to hear; that’s all Larry and his brothers told him. Any areas where he did not excel went into his forbidden self.

Of course the sexton shouts. Of course the organist complies with men and distances herself from women. Of course Larry is telling the congregation how well he’s doing. It’s so obvious—to us. We can see another person’s shadow, and if we are calm and clear and hold to the principles and practices of circle, we can help others see their own. And they can help us see our own.

Projected shadow is putting onto other people those qualities that we don’t know how to deal with inside ourselves. These projections may be positive or negative. A positive projected shadow assumes that Reverend Larry is so capable that he cannot make a mistake and his decisions should not be challenged; a negative projected shadow sees any perceived flaw in judgment or action as proof that Larry is not worth following.

Positive projection stems from a desire to feel safe, to hand off leadership and responsibility to someone else and assume that the other person knows what is best, always does what is right, and so on. This is sometimes referred to as “putting our gold onto another.” Negative projection arises out of fear of disappointment that someone is letting the group malfunction, is not taking proper care of people, has become competitive instead of cooperative, is too egotistical, and the like. This is sometimes referred to as “putting our garbage onto another.” Positive does not necessarily mean good, and negative doesn’t necessarily mean bad.

The issue of discernment arises here because in projection, there is a grain of truth. Someone is being a healthy leader—and we are challenged to consciously support the person by taking our own part in leadership. Someone is being competitive—so how do we restore his or her cooperative spirit and take our share of leadership without slipping into competitive behavior ourselves?

The release from projection may consist not of changing our behavior or others’ behavior but of changing the energetic charge that accompanies it. We can appreciate each other’s qualities and not attach a sense of “Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi” to our admiration. We can see someone’s competitive edge as a point on the wheel, a necessary diversity, and not attach a sense of “Darth Vader is in the room” every time the person speaks.

Transference shadow is projecting onto a person in the present unfinished business from a person in the past. A man walks into a room, and something about the turn of his head suddenly reminds you of the relationship you had with your grandfather. A woman steps through a door into sunlight, and you know she’s the love of your life, veiled in the relationship of the high school sweetheart who got away. Transference usually carries a lot of energy and a strong drive to be able to complete something. As long as transference remains unconscious, completion is impossible, so the energy builds. In Larry’s family, his father decided his sons should be a doctor, a lawyer, and a minister. Larry can’t remember exactly how his vocational selection occurred; it was just always there: a choice made for him that he assumes was made by him. And when father figures, such as the bishop, come into his life, he looks to them to make his choices and rebels against their authority at the same time.

Like Grandma’s attic, shadow contains all kinds of unclaimed material, jumbled together and gathering dust. And like little kids let loose to play-act, we hang old stuff on each other as a way to get to know it. Projection and transference are unconsciously dressing up someone else in our unworn clothes to see if we’d look good in them or coping with the fact that the reflection we see in the cracked and peeling mirror is not another person but us. Over time, doing the work of shifting shadow creates people who are more whole, more compassionate toward the human condition, and more able to lead. Our presence in circle is driven by a call to wholeness. We cannot clear shadow on our own. We need each other to surprise us into retrieving bits of our forbidden selves.

Transference and projection rule much of our world—both at the interpersonal level of shadow storied throughout this chapter and in the larger collective issues that come into circle for healing in the stories of the next chapter. And this is not a new situation. It was William Shakespeare who spoke through his plays of the need to become aware and accountable for the wholeness of ourselves. So in the play Hamlet, King Polonius advises his son Laertes, “This above all: to thine own self be true, / And it must follow, as the night the day, / Thou canst not be false to any man.” Exactly—and what a journey that is!

Bits of Shadow in Everyday Life

Shadow is what complicates our abilities to respond clearly to interpersonal issues in the circle (and any other group we are in). A conflict without shadow is significantly easier to resolve—and more rare. One church secretary buys supplies at a big-box store; the other buys supplies at the local stationer’s: one is trying to save money; the other is trying to save a small business. The two can more easily work out a compromise if they remain aware of their motivation, agree on both sets of values, and have a fairly easy working camaraderie. If they get into a conversation that draws on deeper issues (how one secretary’s grandfather ran a small store that went under in the Great Depression, how the carbon footprint should guide the church’s purchasing decisions), they will need to watch for shadow.

Most of us bring unconscious material to the places where we or others get stuck in a group. For example, when Reverend Larry’s church was renovating its building, a major benefactor was an older woman in the congregation. Born and raised in this church community and married here sixty years ago, Mildred then raised her children in the church and buried her husband here. Still vibrant and thoughtful in her mid-eighties, she sat on the renovation committee, enjoyed using circle process to offer creative solutions to various challenges, and contributed her much appreciated sense of design. Yet shortly after the renovations began, she suddenly closed down, withdrew a significant financial pledge, and stopped coming to the meetings. Everyone on the committee was greatly distressed and tried to talk with her about what happened, but Mildred seemed both adamant in her emotional reactions and unable to state what could restore her sense of belonging.

Finally, one day, a younger member of the committee noticed Mildred struggling with her arthritic hands to open the newly installed doors to the community hall. After several tries, she gave up and walked away. The committee member went immediately to her side. “Millie, were you having trouble with those doorknobs?”

The older woman looked puzzled and then burst into tears. “I just had this thought: why help pay for a church that doesn’t want me in it anymore? I couldn’t shake the feeling.”

The younger woman put her arms around her friend. “We love you here, Millie. We can change the doorknobs!” Because Mildred couldn’t discover a practical source for her discomfort, it went into shadow, becoming both unconscious behavior and projection that led to a complete breakdown in the relationship. As soon as the shadow part of the issue was brought to light, the solution became obvious. “Oh, I feel like such a silly Millie,” Mildred later confessed in circle. “I didn’t even register the connection to those dang-blasted doorknobs.” Everyone cheered and put her in charge of testing every bit of the renovation for ease of use by the young, the old, and the frail.

How to Tend Shadow in Circle Process

Tending to shadow is an aspect of the third practice of council, “tending to the well-being of the group,” and the third principle, “ultimately rely on wholeness.” Shadow tending is not so scary if we do it regularly and use the infrastructure of circle to hold the conversation—speaking to the center, using neutral language, making “I” statements, sharing responsibility, and trusting the spirit of the group that is already established. You’ll notice that in the following exchange no one gets blamed or shamed, and people speak from their own experience.

The church’s financial committee (which was not aware of Larry’s illness) uses an agenda-based circle process to manage the budget and human resources of the congregation. The guardian occasionally rings in a pause and asks people to reflect on how they are beneath the layer of business. “Is there anything in how we’re working together or handling the responsibilities of stew-ardship that needs clearing?” A talking piece is passed, and each person holds it thoughtfully, whether speaking or not.

This time Larry spoke up. “I haven’t been saying much lately, and I don’t want my silence misconstrued. A lot is happening away from the church that I’m not ready to talk about, and I know that I can look tired or distracted. Thanks for giving me the space to just be here.”

A few minutes later, a woman said, “I’m so glad you spoke, Larry. I have been worrying about you. I thought it had to do with me. Let me know how to support you.”

Although the issue isn’t finished—it’s shifted from covert (closed topic) to overt (open topic)—Larry’s statement gives him and others in the group a way to bring up the topic again. Perhaps a few meetings later, someone will say, “Remember when you said you’re looking tired and distracted, Larry? I’m wondering if we could talk about that some more because my concern is growing.” Or Larry might say, “Well, it’s time to talk about what’s been going on with me.” And if Larry had not spoken, any member of the circle could have referred to the matter using neutral language and exploratory “I” statements.

According to Jungian theory, shadow accumulates as children put away aspects of themselves that they cannot make fit in their families or cultures. Whatever is not approved of or unacknowledged can slide into the forbidden self. For example, anger may be put away when a 40-pound child cannot figure out how to express that emotion safely in the presence of angry 200-pound adults. The resulting personality is a compliant child whose anger will erupt elsewhere—perhaps bullying younger siblings or becoming an overly permissive parent to his or her own children. What is classified as “not fitting” may also be talents that cannot be used in original situations—a musical or artistic child in a family that doesn’t value the arts, for example—or assertiveness in a girl or tenderness in a boy in settings where only traditional attributes of femininity and masculinity are supported. We all have shadow; and a significant part of life’s inner journey is to help ourselves and others reclaim our lost parts. This search for reclamation is happening in every interaction of meaning: it doesn’t matter whether or not you think you want to deal with your own or other people’s lost parts—they just show up. If we can’t see them in ourselves, we project them onto others.

Doing shadow work begins with converting our own covert thoughts and behaviors into overt thoughts and behaviors. The first aspect of shadow work in circle is to ask ourselves, What’s showing up in me that might be shadow? Christina says, “I often felt like a stranger in my family when I was a child, so I have to watch out for thought patterns of not belonging in groups and not project old insecurities onto current situations. Of course, the positive that grew out of that experience was creating PeerSpirit Circle Process, which helps people claim their belonging and grow together!” Our wounds often become our gifts.

Ann says, “I can be extremely sensitive to criticism and hear it as a much bigger, louder remark than intended. So I need to take a walk in nature and then come back and explore the scope of the remark from the point of being recentered in myself. The positive side is that this gets me out in nature, where everything is accepted, used up, and transformed into something else.” The first step in leadership is to know our own vulnerabilities and strengths—what causes us to slide into our own emotional potholes—and what we have learned works to help us get out of them.

Many ongoing groups invite journal writing into their collective process: each person keeping some form of narrative of his or her experience. When these journals—contained in notebooks, laptops, or handheld devices—are respected as private records, they provide a way for each person in the circle to do some shadow clearing before (or while) working with dynamics in the group. This does not mean that every circle stops to process individual shadow or becomes a therapeutic environment; rather, it means that every member owns his or her vulnerabilities and strives to stay conscious of them so as not to undermine group process, intention, and activity.

So after Larry’s comment to the finance committee, another member may write in his or her journal, “What isn’t Larry telling us? I assume it’s significant, or he’d just go ahead and say it. It triggers my old fears about family secrets. Part of me wants to grab Larry by the lapels and make him tell me—right now! My foreboding gets bigger and bigger. … And knowing that, I can manage my own tension. What if he’s transferring out? What if one of the kids is having trouble with drugs? What if he or Lorraine is sick? Divorcing? OK—that’s the disaster list. Now the question becomes “How will I take leadership in helping them? In helping the community respond?”

Shadow is not a failure of group process; on the contrary, it is integral to group process. No matter how focused a group may be on a task or how foreign a concept shadow may be in a particular setting, when people come together, the drive for wholeness and healing is always a subcontext in relationships, circles, organizations, and communities. We cannot avoid it. Part of leadership in circle is to know that shadow sits with us and to develop healthy ways to name, respond to, and work with shadow elements that will inevitably show up.

A men’s group associated with the church has a dark rock that is part of its center. Every now and then, the men pass it around “to turn over the stone” and look for anything that has been hiding that they want to speak to the center. A women’s group that has accumulated a basketful of circle accessories has a small, stuffed toy elephant that the members pass around to ask the question “Are there any elephants in the room that we want to talk about before they get any bigger?”

Of course, someone needs to be willing to crack open the egg of silence and start the conversation. There is always tension when addressing shadow. Once issues are raised, the group cannot go back. All participants are about to learn something potent and empowering about themselves, individually and collectively. Different levels of capacity for acknowledgment, of readiness and willingness, are likely to exist in the group. For most people, reactions to embarking on an exploration of shadow work range from uncomfortable to terrified. And yet it is exhilarating to come through it. Shadow work gives people the chance to experience a kind of psychological alchemy: we have spun straw into gold, transformed not knowing into knowledge. This is tremendously empowering. A group that has addressed shadow and come through it, as Doug and Diana’s story in Chapter 8 illustrates, is a powerful group.

Hosting the Shift from Covert to Overt

Addressing shadow issues is generative in the life of a circle. It articulates points of divergence and still aims for the greatest common good, even from different points of view and even with great passion. As long as intention is clear and visibly represented in an energized center; as long as a respectful environment is maintained, conflicting points of view can be ultimately empowering and confidence-building for everyone in the group. No one can sleep through the eruption of shadow in the circle: the host and guardian are working in tandem, and everyone needs to be present—not necessarily participating verbally but holding the container of the circle with a firm belief in the ability of circle infrastructure to provide support though this moment of difficulty.

Back at the church, the governing council had been having side conversations about people’s discomfort at being asked to keep Reverend Larry’s illness a secret. Finally, Hank, the council president, called a meeting at his house on a night when his wife was attending her book club. All six colleagues gathered. Hank put a copy of the church directory, a photo of himself playing golf with Larry, and a candle in the middle of the coffee table. Valerie volunteered to be guardian and pulled a bar chime out of her purse. As a start-point, Hank spoke an opening prayer for guidance and dedicated the meeting to Larry, his family, and the church community. He opened the circle with a statement of intent: “I know that several of us feel uncomfortable even having this meeting without Larry present, and I know that we feel uncomfortable being asked by Larry to keep his illness a secret from the congregation. I believe we are at the end of our abilities to maintain the status quo, both because Larry’s illness is progressing and because we are starting to see our community struggle under his silence. I called this meeting so that we could have a place and time to respectfully share our own feelings before we try to be clear with Larry or others—at least, I need that clarity. Our usual agreements are in play—especially confidentiality. Let’s check in, listen to each other, and discover where to go from there.”

Val said, “I’ll check in first so I can focus on serving as guardian. I am so relieved to be in this conversation even though I don’t know what we will decide. I’ve lied to my husband twice, saying nothing is wrong, and I hate that! I love Larry, and I’m getting mad at the position he’s put us in.”

The next member said, “Larry is the pastor. He has his reasons and his faith. I’m not wasting any time asking myself whether or not I agree; I’m just doing what he asked. That’s what I’m going to continue doing—and I’m here tonight to basically say I don’t think we should be having this conversation. God will watch out for us. There’s still a possibility Larry will get better and the whole thing will blow over.”

The next member practically grabbed the talking piece. “He’s not getting better; he’s getting worse. Larry’s not going to have the stamina to stand in front of the congregation for much longer. We need a plan when this whole thing blows up. We are not prepared to hold this church together during Larry’s passing.”

Before she could speak, Maureen began to cry. “He’s dying? Who says he’s dying? Why would God take him from us? We need him. We have to get everyone praying for him—we have to believe in miracles; that’s what faith is all about.” Val rang the guardian bell. Everyone paused. She rang it again.

Hank said, “Thank you, Val. I remind people to keep focusing on the center, to lay down our different reactions in ways that we can all keep listening. Let’s finish the round of check-in and then decide how we might take our own leadership in this situation.”

Obviously, this group now has to work through its own shadow and differences. There is no going back beyond the breaking of silences. One of the ways Hank is using circle process is calling people to place their emotions in the center and reminding people of their ability to keep listening while holding diverse reactions and points of view. The presence of shadow and leadership challenges for the governing council are becoming clear. The council’s reactions are a sampling of the range of reactions that will surface in the larger community. Hank was wise to create a space and time when people could stay with the process until they came to their own clarity or at least a resting point.

We later asked Hank how he experienced his circle-hosting capacity that evening. He replied:

“What you said—that the only way ‘out’ is ‘through’—sure became obvious. At the end of check-in, I was sitting in the pause of the bell wondering, Now what? We are at such different places. I remembered you two saying to trust the process, so I just thanked everyone for being so honest, noted that we were not yet clear, and asked that we commit to another round of talking piece council. I kept reminding us that the wisdom we need is in the group. We will know it when it arrives. Our job is to be patient, to listen, to have compassion for Larry and one another, and to trust the process.”

At this delicate moment, the governing council could have fractured into decoy conflict—fighting internally instead of keeping the focus on Larry’s illness. The elements that helped were Hank and Val’s careful hosting and guardianship, the group’s track record of good internal relationships, and the call back to intention. It was an emotional evening, and it looked like the council might not reach a decision when Val took a breath and said, “I think every emotion and reaction going on in us is also going on in Reverend Larry and will also go on in the congregation. I now feel strong enough to sit with Larry while he has feelings and strong enough to sit with friends in the community while they have their feelings. What I have learned about myself tonight is that I’m willing to be there in the hurt that is coming. I mean, we can’t avoid grief, and after this conversation with you, I’m not afraid to face this. I cannot imagine how hard it is to be in the dying stage of life. I want to be accepting with Larry; I want to encourage him to trust us with his story. I want to be there for Lorraine and their kids. And most of all, I want us to look back on this time in our church life as a growth process that matured our faith.”

Maureen leaned over, rang the chime resting in Val’s lap, and said, “I think wisdom just arrived. Thank God.”

The group sat in silence awhile; then Val rang the chime again, and Hank said, “While Val was talking, I thought, let’s start at the end, let’s go to that point where we look back on this time. Then let’s look at what conversations and experiences need to go into creating the community we have the potential to become.”

One of the other men said, “Great idea, but I cannot go there tonight; I’m wiped out. But maybe this is how we can talk to Larry: ask him to be in that vision with us as part of his legacy. We can reassure him that he can share his situation and we’ll deal with whatever happens.”

Visioning is actually a powerful tool for gaining perspective on shadow. How would I be if I weren’t stuck in this place? How would we be together if we weren’t afraid to talk about Larry’s dying, our own dying, the planet’s dying? Carl Jung posed a paradoxical question about shadow: “How do you find the lion that has swallowed you?”² Going into a visioning process allows the circle to acknowledge the lion, acknowledge being swallowed, and acknowledge our capacity to sit in a tree and look down into the situation and out to the far horizon for help.

Three days later, the council met with Larry and Lorraine. First the council members listened to the couple; then they expressed their heartfelt concerns and readiness. A week later, Larry spoke of his illness from the pulpit, and the council stepped forward and made a statement of love, sympathy, and purpose—creating a social container for this new part of their community story. The council hosted an all-church meeting on the following Tuesday night that consisted of three parts. People first gathered around tables to share thoughts and feelings; they had a social break for dessert and coffee; and then they shifted into a World Café session with three rounds designed to help people use their long-held circle practice to address the questions “How do we want our church community to look back on this time?” “What can we contribute to this experience?” and “What help do we need?”

It was not easy, and it was a powerful, maturing time. The congregation shook with emotions. The church lost some members who chose not to stay in the process and gained some members who wanted to be part of a community capable of doing this kind of collective shadow tending. All participants were given opportunities to be in house circles and occasional all-congregational circles to keep talking through their learning about grief and aiming toward the vision of themselves being created through this loss.

Why People Avoid Shadow Tending

Much of our shadow material is held in its corner of unconsciousness by an embedded threat that makes us afraid to reveal ourselves to ourselves. This threat is an unconscious “or else.” You shout your way into the conversation or else you don’t have a voice in the family; you support Papa or else you’ll get a beating; you tell the people how well you’re doing or else you don’t deserve their faith in you. The “or else” is an internalized warning: “Don’t you dare change this behavior!” The threat is what drives these behaviors into the unconscious and is also why pointing them out can trigger surprising reactions of defense, shame, rage, or fear. It is a huge leap of faith to believe that you’ll be heard if you whisper, that you won’t be punished for aligning yourself with the women in the group—or for Larry, that he could ask for help and still be regarded as fully capable. When somebody pokes your “or else” or you poke theirs, you know it. What actually happened may be small: “Hey, Giorgio, could you lower your voice?”—but the internal reaction of humiliation is so emotionally volatile that we struggle for control over our impulses, seeking to understand why the interaction felt so huge. When the request is reasonable and the reaction is unreasonable, we’ve got shadow.

Our personal experiences of shadow are often explosive. The “or else” that triggers us has been pushed down for a long time and emerges with great force, spewing anger, gushing tears, howling terror, judging withdrawal. These energetics are hard to manage, and whether the container of the circle will hold strong or shatter depends on our abilities to hold ourselves steadily to circle’s infrastructure of safety in the midst of energetic storm.

In Diana’s story in Chapter 8, when transference shadow overwhelmed her, she spewed as best she could into the center and was able to become conscious about her old story. The circle host helped hold the rim; so did the woman sitting next to Diana, and so did Doug—he didn’t escalate to match her, even though he was confused and defensive. Everybody contributed in some way to Diana’s ability to let go of history and come more fully into the present. In the years of PeerSpirit work, this is our most common scenario: circle can hold outbursts of shadow if the person can erupt without doing violence, and the person can ride through the shifting process if the circle will just hold the container.

However, our media images of shadow behavior heighten our fear because it most often portrays shadow as uncontrollable. We see the Incredible Hulk, a mild man who turns into a raging, green monster whenever he gets angry; or a drama queen, who disrupts social and circle settings with unpredictable narcissism and the venom to command her way; or a sociopath who tracks and torments innocent people, out witting their attempts to save themselves at every turn. This is extreme shadow without social container or self-control. Throughout the years of our work, most of our experience with shadow in circle confirms people’s abilities to make courageous and healing breakthroughs. It is true that a circle’s container can shatter when the structure is abandoned or when individuals are unable to remain attached to practices of council and their agreements.

The circle can hold shadow work on the condition that even in chaos, everyone maintains the infrastructure. Anger, yes, and this does not include uncontrollable rage projected at another member of the group. Intense emotion, yes, and this does not mean hijacking the group away from its collective purpose in order to fulfill one person’s purpose. Over the years, we have seen shadow erupt and people respond with creativity and strength that allowed the circle to hold, to reform, to enter ceremonies of healing, or to help a person realize the need to leave.

Reverend Larry’s funeral was full of grace. The conversations that had started during his illness continued and deepened. People had profound experiences in their house circles. Val later said of these, “We spoke at a level of authenticity that went almost beyond words. Spirit was palpable in these moments. We were energetically changed, and I cannot tell you how. Even if I told you the story—which I can’t—you wouldn’t have the transformation we had; it’s like something whole and holy came out of us, through us, for each other.”

Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “Of course, now we are facing the shadow of how to welcome new members who haven’t been through what we’ve been through and not make them feel less for it. And finding a new pastor—wow, that was a shadowy trip! The search committee took forever, trying to find someone who could match our sense of ourselves. We wanted someone who could build on Larry’s legacy and not try to be him. We called a woman—so that’s a fresh voice in the pulpit.”

Resilience in the presence of shadow cannot be formulaic because human beings are not formulaic. The nature of shadow is that it shows up differently every time and differently in every person and so requires that we handle it differently as well. The more disturbance comes into the container, the more strongly we need to hold ourselves and each other accountable to the agreements, to direct charged emotions energetically toward the center and not toward each other, to call on the guardian to call for pauses and slow us down as we move through the eye of the storm, and for willing leaders to be sitting in every chair.