Each February 2nd, we celebrate Groundhog Day to help us predict how much longer winter will last. It was first celebrated in the United States in Punxsutawney, PA in 1887. It was a simple affair. A group of local groundhog hunters went into the woods to observe a groundhog coming out of its burrow. Later the hunters became known as the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, and the groundhog became the famous, Punxsutawney Phil.
They say that Phil got scared that day because he saw his shadow, and quickly scampered back into his hole. For the club, that meant they could expect six more weeks of winter. But what did it mean for Phil?
I’m not sure what scared him that first February morning. Maybe he did see his shadow. Or, maybe the sight of hunters peering down the barrels of shotguns scared him. Whatever it was, this legend turned tradition reminds me of how we humans often go into hiding when we see our own inner Shadow.
In my last post, “More Than Our Worst Mistakes”, I reflected on Carl Jung’s teaching about our inner, psychological Shadow. Those parts of us that we do not want to acknowledge: like anger, envy, selfishness, fear, etc. And also, those parts that hold good qualities which we have never permitted ourselves to claim, such as courage, creativity, tenderness, or authority.”
We See Our Shadow in Others
I’ve been aware of my own shadow qualities for quite some time. But this awareness usually comes after I’ve already projected them onto someone else, like projecting a movie onto a large theater screen. There we see characters acting out a story that has nothing to do with the screen, and everything to do with those who create and project their stories upon it.
At some point I realized that the qualities I perceive in others may have more to do with me than with them. Especially if my reaction to their actions or attitudes is clearly more intense than it needs to be. In those cases I may be hiding from something in myself by creating and projecting my own story onto their lives.
At first, my awareness of projection was limited to the negative qualities I saw in others which I was unable or unwilling to admit about myself. Projection became my way of hiding from my own negative traits.
More recently, I’ve realized that I also hide from my connection with positive traits, by projecting them onto people I greatly admire. For some reason claiming qualities for myself like courage, patience, or resilience felt frightening to me. Maybe because because they make me responsible for living up to those claims by keeping promises that seem beyond my capacity.
For instance, a few weeks ago a manager in the Hospice I serve complimented me because I had covered for colleagues when they needed time off. For some reason I downplayed my role. Yet, they would not have it, and described my actions as, “very generous.” I didn’t know what to say, or how to feel about that, and remained awkwardly silent.
Afterward I wondered, “Why couldn’t I just say, ‘Thank you?’” What held me back from embracing the positive quality they observed in me? Why did I feel embarrassed by someone acknowledging me as “generous”?
This too was Shadow Projection. But in this case, Jungians call it “The Golden Shadow.” The one that projects the good things we feel unable to claim for themselves.
I’ve long felt a fear of having, what I call, “the boney finger of accusation” pointing out shameful things in my life. But generosity is not shameful. So why feel ashamed? Why feel uncomfortable, or unworthy about another person experiencing me in positive ways?
For some reason acknowledging, or claiming my capacity for generosity felt scary, like I was an impostor in disguise, or a thief who steals something that belongs to other people, but not to me.
So I hid from it in my silence, and scurried back into my hole where I could remain safe from notice or acknowledgement. But there is a price to pay for this kind of safety: It extends the coldness of Winter within me, and delays the warmth and renewal of Spring.
As I grow, I’m hoping that this will become a price that I am less willing to pay.