I always start the meditation by standing in a mountain valley. In the distance, I can see the shining castle where my shadow lives. Usually, I start walking straight towards it, but this time I spend a few minutes just looking at it. Noticing its shape and its energy and its color and its substance. Feeling the power it gives off. It’s got quite a resonance!
Then I walk up the steps to the grand double doors. My shadow – personified – opens the door before I can. He smiles and asks me how I’m doing.
“I’m fine, thanks. You know why I’m here. I just had a big emotional release after I dropped that judgment, and now I want to take the next step. I want to see what’s going on in here that relates to what just happened to me.”
I’ve come to my shadow to reclaim any gifts or treasures that may be waiting for me.
He smiles again. He gives me the creeps, but what am I gonna do? I need him. Usually he turns away and starts walking, while I follow behind. This time we walk together.
I can immediately tell this is a new passageway. I’ve never been this way before. I start to hear cries – or screams – in the distance. I think I hear moaning from somewhere. The hallway we’re walking down has thick wooden doors with bars in the windows. I can’t bring myself to look into those windows. In one door I see some hands sticking out from the bars. Still I don’t look.
We walk to the end of the hallway. “Here we are,” he says. Usually he doesn’t say anything. Or maybe I just haven’t been listening? I don’t know.
It’s another thick wooden door. I can see the wood even now as I write these words. The door is rounded at the top – like some sort of hobbit den. Or maybe like a very ancient prison cell.
I can still see the black iron rods that embar the window. I open the door. Inside, the first thing I see is straw on the cold stone floor. I see a metal bowl; perhaps for food?
And then I see me. I see a part of me from long ago. From a time so intense with pain, that this part of my consciousness broke off and started to live its own life. I couldn’t handle the intensity. Like a branch on a tree, part of me separated. And now, after decades, we’re reunited.
I just look with mouth agape. I take in the image of this bedraggled image – with long beard and greasy hair and greasy rags for clothes. It’s like me, if I’d never bathed for thirty years – locked in a dungeon and certainly gone mad. I can barely look.
Instead, I walk around the cell. “Straw?!! Is this how you treat me???” I want to say to my shadow. But I know I’m the one who’s locked this part of me here.
My shadow is not the jailer. My shadow’s been keeping this part of me alive. Keeping it safe, for when I was able to reclaim it.
I look out the barred window. I’m surprised there ever is a window to the outside world. I want to see what this part of me has been gazing at for the last thirty years. I see a great body of water far off in the distance, and a small harbor town. At least I’m not underground.
I walk around some more, touching the dirty walls and kicking the straw. I walk back over to the image. We merge into one. I look down at my now-bony hands. I look further and see two feet that cannot be human. They look like hobbit feet, thick and hairy.
Then I walk to the far wall, away from the window. There’s some sort of opening. I can feel the dank coolness, and a smell that only comes from deep underground. I don’t want to, but I know I have to go down into that darkness. I’ll probably die down there. Maybe I’m already dead.
Like a fool, I penetrate the dark. It’s like I’m on a slide, sliding down into the unknown. And then the darkness leaves, and I’m on the playground. I recognize it well. This is the swing set at Overstreet Elementary School in Starkville Miss.
Wow! I remember this place! How weird. Is this where the nightmare started? Or is this the memory that this part of me kept intact, maybe as a way to not go crazy? Or is there some sort of lost energy here for me?
Nothing much happens, and I can’t quite figure it out, so I soon leave and go back up to the prison cell. And something amazing happens. (Yeah, right – like everything up till now has been perfectly normal…!)
I get back into the room and I see that image of me. I thought he was inside me? What’s going on? But now he’s changed. He’s shaved. He’s bathed. He’s put on a suit. Nice suit. Wearing nice shoes. He looks pretty good in a suit. He looks happy.
Rather than trying to figure it out, I just merge with him again. That felt good! NOW I got my lost power back! I FEEL the difference; I feel the healing; I feel the power.
Somehow I muster up a ‘thank you’ to my shadow and get out of that place as fast as I can.
I can’t say I particularly enjoy going to my shadow, but I can say I always leave there feeling more powerful than when I came. I retrieve my power. Plus, I resolve the unresolved energy.
I lessen my burden. I’m always more free after I go there.
It’s also like a ‘preemptive strike’. I can deal with stuff down in my shadow so I don’t have to go through the drama in the ‘real’ world. I can deal with anger, fear, hurt… all sorts of stuff.
If I go experience my anger in my shadow, then maybe I won’t have to manifest the anger coming from someone in my world.
Plus I can heal myself by going to my shadow.
I can go to my shadow and feel all the things I didn’t want to feel back when the events were actually happening. And when I feel them now, I heal.
If this sounds like something you’d be interested in trying, just go to -
It’s not for everybody. But personally, I can’t stay away. There’s too many treasures waiting. There’s too much of my power lost. And I’m determined to be as powerful as I can possibly be.
I have to go there.
Here’s how I do it:
Mark Ivar Myhre
The Emotional Healing Coach
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