Living With a Thief

There is something I must tell you, a confession I must make today. It is not something I know how to share. I have tried to go round and round the various ways of breaking it to you gently, but I haven’t found one. And in the end, I must be blunt when I say to you this: I live with a thief.
Despite all of the riches I accrue, despite all of the strides I make in my life towards more wealth and abundance, I run the risk of being robbed continually because I live with a thief. I have for years.
This thief takes advantage of my good graces, sitting low and towing the line until I let him out for good behavior. And then I am duped. Every time. He runs off with my stuff, and I am left holding the bag. It is the most wretched sort of arrangement.
I would love to get rid of this guy. Why do I keep letting him back into my life? Why can’t I just cage him up nice and good, once and for all?
I would dearly love to except for one thing: The thief is me.
My shadow side is wide and long, smaller than it used to be, but still big enough to house a thief. It’s got just enough shade to disguise the thief well, so well in fact that I am conned into believing he isn’t sitting there among the shadows but has disappeared, and good riddance. Only he hasn’t disappeared. He is just biding his time in the dark while I flit about in the land of light, waiting for the moment when the next real cache of good stuff comes rolling in and I’m off my guard and he can make his plunder.
What are the kinds of things he’s interested in? Joy and happiness mostly, but he’ll also take a slice out of contentment, peace, self-worth, confidence, purpose – anything that smacks of love and beauty and leaves me feeling gratified.
He goes by several names, but the most common aliases he’s given me (when he does talk to me) are Fear, Distrust, and Insecurity. When he’s operating under any one of these handles, I can rest assured that the pillaging will be great, and – even worse – I may not be the only one robbed, for an even sadder element to this story is that often when he robs me, he robs those around me, as well.
This is what happened to me this past week as I was lured into a blissful sense of security. My guard was down. I had not looked closely into the shadows for a while. So when the time was ripe, he sprang, blinding me to what he was doing by convincing me that I was not loved and cared for and that I didn’t belong. By the time I came to, the damage had already been done. He’d robbed me of my joy and confidence and left my friends with a knock on their noggins that had them reeling with the suddenness of it all. They hadn’t seen it coming. It threw them for a loop, too.
So this week I am once again left to clean up the mess. My friends will rightly say, “Well, why do you keep this guy around then? Either get rid of him or lock him away!” And they will be right. Something must be done. The current arrangement is not working, not that it ever did.
I’ve come to the conclusion that locking him away is probably not a good idea. Whether I acknowledge him or not, he’ll still be sitting there in the deep, dark depths of my heart plotting his break out. And when that happens, after years of confinement, it will be far worse than anything I’ve seen yet so far.
No, the solution seems to be getting rid of him. But that’s a tricky one. He’s a part of me, after all.
It dawns on me that he thrives on the darkness. The darkness is one of the places from which he draws his strength. So perhaps my tactic should be one of weakening him: perhaps he needs to have a good sit in the sun for a while and come out of the shadows. This would definitely help diminish the chances of another surprise attack. After all, how could he hatch up a nefarious scheme if he’s sitting out in my garden in full view?!
I wonder what he’ll do if he’s not allowed to skulk around in the dark anymore. Will he fade away like some ghost, reduced to nothing by the sun’s powerful rays? Will he get bored with me and simply wander off for better pastures? Or will he change, maybe take up gardening instead of pillaging? And what will my approach to him be?
Maybe I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself on this one. Baby steps first. The first step? Dragging this guy out into the sunlight.
Do you have any thieves?
What does your shadow side say to you? Do to you?
How have you learned to deal with your shadow side over the years?
I look forward to hearing your wisdom.

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Photo Credits:
First flickrphoto by David Sandell
Second flickrphoto by decade null
