A while ago, I began telling a friend about something that happened to me that really upset me. Her answer to me was: “It’s all for the good.”
Um, really? Because in that moment, I didn’t see much good in what was happening at all. In fact, her answer made me feel worse about myself than ever. So I wanted to figure out why. Why is it that when I see posts about being positive, taking everything lightly, it often rubs me the wrong way? Why is it that “it’s all for the good” feels like a pillar of white smoke?
As it turns out, I’m not the only one who feels that way.
Studies show that some people feel worse when doing positive affirmations and that correcting negative thoughts can paradoxically intensify them. Pushing away the negative thoughts or feelings actually feeds them more energy.
Lately I’ve been stumbling on a possible answer as to why that happens. My understanding is still evolving, but here’s what I’ve reached so far.
It’s because a phrase like that is not only insensitive to my feelings (which it is), it also goes against my gut feeling. My gut tells me that there are more energies operating in this world than merely the good and positive ones. And sometimes I think we leave ourselves unprotected and vulnerable when we completely shut out the dark side of life.
If we trust that everything has purpose and meaning, then the “shadow” does too. Somewhere in my being I know that this world functions on the interplay of both dark and light; good and bad; hardship and ease; conflict and peace.
When we merely acknowledge the good, we are overlooking essential elements that are instrumental to our growth and expansion—and that fall under the terms bad, dark, shadow, struggle, difficulty.
When hearing the words “It’s for the good,” it made me feel like a failure for not being able to see it that way. In that moment, it didn’t give me permission to honor the way I was feeling (pretty darn bad), to process it, and then to use those emotions to give me leverage that would propel me out of it.
The mere acknowledgment of being in shadow permits the light to permeate. It is when we trick ourselves into thinking that there is only dark or only light that we reach an impasse. An entire field of understanding gets lost by merely addressing the good.
Whenever I look back at the different struggles that I’ve been through, I think about how hard they were to endure. Yet they had to be there. They had to feel painful. They had to hurt in ways that I couldn’t imagine. They had to deliver contrast and cast doubt over the rest of my life. They had to be what I would call bad.
Why? Because when I evaluate how much I grew out of them, there was no greater teacher for me in that time and space. How many times do I look back to say, wow, I wouldn’t want to go through that again, but I really needed to go through that hard-earned lesson then.
Sometimes the fastest route to expansion is to confront our own darkness.
When I enter struggle, it compels me to plunge into my inner recesses to discover what I am made of, what is a part of me and what needs mending, releasing, reframing or letting go. It’s doubtful that any of us would need to do that kind of deep soul work without a shadow being cast over our lives.
It forces me to wallow in a swampy territory that doesn’t feel good. Even when I want to resort to distractions, it is like dancing along the rim of a glass. It is not comfortable to teeter on the edge where failure or triumph are both possibilities. Yet that in itself is a field of potentiality. In that realm, the band-aid of “It’s all for the good” just doesn’t hold up.
Between dark and light, there is a vast gray area that begs examination and exploration.
The immense arena between good and evil is where I process what’s happening, give it names, unlock emotions, and re-evaluate interpretations that I’ve made about an event. It is also the space where I oscillate between discernment and confusion, and where clarity gets hashed out on the threshing floor. The in-between state often contains the stuff that matters, the stuff that heals old wounds. It’s the very stuff that unwraps the joyful awareness naturally, innately, without the imposition or force of “it’s all for the good.”
Because, ultimately, suffering has the potential to unlock our compassion for others. Hardship can teach us not to judge another person for their choices but to get really surefooted about our own. Difficulty assures our resilience. Out of the shadow lies the potential to overcome.
The converse is also true, when I get stuck in quicksand and can’t shift at all. That’s when I seek help from other aware people who can assist me in illuminating the path.
Unlike a pendulum swaying from one extreme to the other, the movement between good and bad looks more like a spiral that helps us advance or recede along a continuum. The spiral of tears and of rejoicing, of defeat and of glory, keeps moving us with the ebb and flow of life, like a great heart in the center of the universe that expands and contracts automatically, effortlessly. If we know that all of it is emanating from this immense heart, doesn’t that color the perspective just a bit?
In the end, does that mean that the hardship was inherently for the good? I guess, in that case, it all depends on how you look at it.
Wise words, wonderful topic & post. I like the science at the beginning. Have you read the book Siblings without Rivalry, Sarita? It holds to a similar premise–that the only way one sibling can get along with another is by acknowledging the bad feelings that are there instead of (as a parent) trying to downplay them and override them with good ones. The authors claim you need to be able to express the bad to make room for the good. I’m so glad I read this book and your post because I agree wholeheartedly, and it’s so helpful to affirm this practice. You are helping make me a better listener.
Thank you so much, Josie. Your feedback means a lot to me, especially after writing about something close to my heart. I did read Siblings without Rivalry a while ago. It is a classic for good reason. I agree with you that when listening is at the heart of every human interaction, people would get along a lot better. It takes training and experience to truly hear a person and go behind their words and listen harder. There is much sound in silence too. Thanks again for your kind comment. Your boys are very fortunate to have you as their mom! XOXO
Wow, that Rumi quote hit me to the core! Thank you so much for posting this. I was thinking just yesterday about how a particularly bad situation over the winter resulted in an unexpected opportunity that now I am so grateful for. In the moment though I wasn’t seeing anything good and wouldn’t have wanted to have been told to cheer up and see the bright side! Time gives us perspective and hopefully the mettle to ride the wave the next time a challenge confronts us. Thank you, Sarita!
Boy, Jennifer! When I came to see you at LYT, I was in the thick of things too. I know just what you mean. There was nowhere to go but through the sludge. I’m so happy to hear that your hardship is behind you and that you’re gaining perspective on it. That darned spiral! Thanks so much for reading and commenting. I’m so happy that this post spoke to you. XO
Really amazing! Love this and totally agree. Women need to celebrate their shadow self more freely, acknowledge it for what it is (one dimension) and give it no more or less power than anything else. xoxo
So well said, Tina. Have you ever seen Teal Swan, The Spiritual Catalyst? She does shadow work, after going through a terribly abusive childhood. She doesn’t always resonate with me, but she does have something of value to share. XO
Well said Sarita! I think that some of the positive platitudes are more for the one speaking instead of the one hurting. I find that people say things more to comfort themselves because they don’t feel equipped to see their loved one in pain. They want to give you an emotional band-aide and quickly move into a space that makes them feel secure. What they don’t realize is that in most cases you want an ear not a quick answer or affirmation. We have to be left to experience all aspects of life. Rainy days can be the most beautiful and bountiful.
Thank you for expressing that so well, Vee. “Rainy days can be the most beautiful and bountiful.” How true. People do say things to make themselves feel better and because it’s hard to know what to say sometimes. It’s funny, but a friend of mine called after I posted to ask if she was the one who said it to me! (It wasn’t). I certainly wasn’t faulting the person who said it. I really just wanted to understand why I didn’t feel truth in the words. Thanks so much for reading & commenting, Vee. xoxo
Fantastic post, I loved reading this. I am going through a dark time at the moment, and all my loved ones have to say is that “it’s for the best” and “It’s god will” It doesn’t feel like the best to me, and sometimes I think what if it’s not for the best? Great post once again. x
Tehmina, I feel for your hard time right now. One thing that a friend told me that helped her after losing her spouse was that some days all she could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other. Nothing less and nothing more. One moment at a time. That helped me too. But the only thing that really got me through it was going through it. I tried to escape it. I tried to make it easier on myself. Sometimes my efforts helped and sometimes they just got me by. Later I found out that astrologically-speaking, it showed up in my charts that I’d go through that hardship and that I couldn’t avoid it. It also showed where it would start, approximately, and when it would lift. So, in a way, it helped me to know that the Universe supports us and requires us, in a sense, to go through these rights of passage. It helped me not to assign blame, whether on myself or others, once I found out that the events were inevitable and that for whatever reasons, I had to endure them regardless of anyone’s actions. Hope this helps you get through your travails. Sometimes merely knowing that you’re not alone and that people care does wonders. Warm hug!! XOXO
Lovely introspective treatment of a profound subject. I see the purpose of moments like the ones you reference to be precisely that fractured feeling you describe. It’s the one that tears the fabric of reality to let the light that is always there, enter into our awareness. It’s the hand of Destiny that offers us the opportunity of a shift in perspective to one we just weren’t seeing on our own, or to a broader one. It’s also probably true that we won’t appreciate it on the left side of the precipice, or in the gap, but only when we are on the other side looking back. Much love to you for your courage in reaching these insights.