The Shadow Tango: Who's Leading?

Every day, the Queen in Snow White asks her mirror the same question, and every day she hears what she wants to hear. Then one day the mirror tells her the truth: that Snow White is the fairest of them all. The Queen does not get curious. She lashes out, blames, and goes after Snow White.

That’s where Practitioner Cindy Clay, RScP, started on Sunday when she was back with us at CSL Ballard for week two of our October theme, Dances with Shadows. I’m a huge fan of fairy tales (the original versions, not necessarily the Disney ones), so I loved this reference.

Through a Jungian lens, Cindy drew correlations between Grimm’s symbolism and our shadow selves. The Queen is ego and illusion, what Carl Jung would call the shadow. Snow White’s escape into the forest is a journey inward. And the dwarfs are miners, digging up what’s been hidden and bringing it into the light. (Some people even link the seven dwarfs to the seven chakras, which Cindy said is a whole other talk.)

We’re surrounded by mirrors, too, Cindy said: the selfies we post, the online versions of ourselves we put together so carefully, the comparisons we make all day long. So she asked us, when life holds up a mirror, do we take an honest look at our reflection, or do we blame the mirror?

Quoting Ernest Holmes, Cindy shared,

"Life is a mirror and will reflect back to the thinker what he thinks into it."

Cindy's point was that the most powerful mirrors in our lives are other people. The closer someone gets, the more likely they are to stir up what we've pushed down: jealousy, grief, the old feeling of not being enough. Those parts don't go away just because we've decided they aren't very spiritual.

We Learn Through Stories

Cindy teaches through her own life, and she’s not just about looking good; she keeps it real. I won't retell the many she shared on Sunday, because she tells them far better than I could. I'll just say there's a 12-year-old running late for a piano lesson, a car door, and a garage that ended up off its foundation. There's a daughter, a new boyfriend, and a text about pickleball. And there's a drive with no destination that ends in laughter.

If you've ever said, "look what you made me do," even just in your head, you may recognize yourself. You can watch the talk here.

Dancing With the Past

One of the most practical ideas came from Morningside Academy, the school that helped Cindy's daughter, who wasn’t learning in a standard school setting. Along with reading and math, Morningside teaches kids and families how to handle big emotions, using a tool called rubber banding.

Rubber banding is what happens when a small thing sets off a big reaction. We snap back 20, 40, 60 years to an old hurt that never healed. Suddenly the person in front of us is standing in for a parent, a sibling, a bully, an ex. They get a full force reaction, far beyond what the situation warrants, and they have no idea what they did.

Cindy shared a line from a minister she knows (I still love this line; Rev. Liz Mirante shared it back in August, too.): "I may have pushed your button, but I didn't install it."

It feels immediate, but Cindy slowed it down into four beats: trigger, interpretation, emotion, reaction. Someone says or does something. We decide what it means: they don't care, they're about to leave, they're trying to control me. We feel something about the meaning we chose. Then we blow up or disappear. (That pickleball text nails it; go listen!)

The interpretation is the step we tend to skip. It's also the only one we make up, which means it's the one we can change.

Three New Steps for the Shadow Tango

Someone criticizes us, so we defend. Someone raises their voice, so we raise ours. Someone steps on our toes, so we kick them in the ankle (or in the shins, if you’re me and Forrest – that’s a tale for another day, and thankfully, we laugh about it now). With the people closest to us, we've often danced this routine hundreds of times. Cindy calls each of these an invitation, and the moment it shows up is the moment of practice. She offered three new steps:

• Notice. Watch for irritation, defensiveness, jealousy, or unworthiness, especially when the feeling is bigger than what happened.

• Get curious, and be kind about it. Instead of "What's wrong with them?" try "What part of me is reacting right now? What old memory just came up?" "Oh, there's jealousy. I wonder what it's trying to tell me" goes a lot further than "There I go again."

• Talk to it. Ask the feeling what it wants you to know. (Yes, ask the feeling.) Anger might say, I want to be respected. Fear might say, I need to know I'm safe. (Yes, please.)

Carl Rogers, a founder of humanistic psychology, wrote, "The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." (Which, interestingly, was Tuesday’s quote-of-the-day on Insight Timer.) Cindy said don't throw anger out of the ballroom. It’s OK to let it come to the dance, but we don’t have to let it lead.

Taking Turns Leading

Take turns leading

Cindy also taught me something about Argentine tango. In ballroom dancing, one partner always leads. In Argentine tango, the partners adapt and respond to each other, and the lead passes back and forth. One leads for a while, then hands it over, and the other takes it. I love watching tango, and I didn’t know this. Anyone remember Forever Tango? That left an impression. And I love it even more knowing this.

We’ve all heard (and likely experienced) that opposites attract: the extrovert and introvert, the saver and the spender, the homebody and the adventurer. Cindy said there’s a name for this, polarity, and it’s a good thing. Partner with someone exactly like you, and you'll likely get bored. Instead of spending years trying to turn the other person into our reflection, we can let those differences make us better.

We’ve also heard that if there’s something irritating you about someone else, it might be something for you look at – for yourself. Shifting that viewpoint, it could be that it’s something we haven't let ourselves express. I like this reframe: If I call you controlling, maybe I never learned to ask for what I need (rather than, "maybe I'm controlling" - my previous interpretation). If I call you irresponsible, maybe I've forgotten how to have fun. If I call you too emotional, maybe I've spent years pushing down my own feelings. Our relationships are mirrors.

So, there are two kinds of leading in this shadow tango. With a partner, we take turns. With our shadow, we get to lead.

Toes Will Get Stepped On

Any group of people who care about something will step on each other's toes. Families, teams, coworkers, and committees all do it. The important thing is learning how to navigate this. A strong community doesn’t mean it never happens. It's where we get to notice the music, own our part, and choose a better dance next time.

Cindy has a great phrase for this: "Oh dear, people are peopling again." (Yes!) It's part of being human. With so much of the world reacting first and asking questions later right now, that bit of grace goes a long way.

She closed with a poem she wrote, "When the Tango Begins Again." This part says it best:

Take the shadow onto the dance floor.

It may speak.

But it need not lead.

So the next time someone steps on your toes, listen for the song. You may have danced to it a hundred times. You still get to choose the next step. And if you'd like some company while you practice, come dance with us on Sunday.

With gratitude,

Laura