Shadows are wonderful and strange things. The tiny human being who discovers it for the very first time has found a mysterious friend who plays hide and seek in the light and dark, suffering from Peter Pan envy. It is the unlit sibling to the reflection and the refracted rainbows that dance on the wall. It is the traveling companion of the gaily bedighted knight on his way to Eldorado.
The dark mystery of the shadow deepens, for its looming presence can be stifling. This shadow falls on the heart as hope diminishes, Eldorado falling further away with every approaching step. When darkness falls in darkness, it smothers, scattering gloom deep as Dickens’ last spirit.
The knight addresses the figure seeking answers, not of “why” as in “why this cloud of unknowing,” (why is this happening to me?) but “where can it be, this land of Eldorado?” One can imagine how the hooded and unseen face of depression is taken by surprise. The answer echoes from the darkness, compelled by the insatiable desire to know. An inky finger protrudes, pointing the way: boldly look where you would never expect—“over the mountains of the moon, and down the valley of shadow, Ride, boldly ride.”
“Home is behind the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight.
Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall fade”
(Pippin’s Song)
