The Season of Dark Shadows

Perhaps it is unwise to air your internal feelings on social media. After all, one is at risk of having those feelings misinterpreted which may cause frustration to come upon you. It also has to be said that there are individuals who want to offer unkind words but I suppose one has to be able to construct their own defence shield in this life. One can’t escape from words that are hurled like stones. I rather be disliked for my honesty and mistakes rather than liked for being inauthentic masked with perfection. We live in a world where we have to be seen as having it all together but surely there is something amiss in that.

It has to be said that factors such as current environment and living conditions, negative and positive life events, health, childhood experiences, age, family, employment and financial status all weave together to create the whole person and an onlooker may not fully comprehend the whole inside story and they may not have walked your path. Thus, an incident which may appear inconsequential to someone may be the one that is the catalyst in a long line of occurrences which results in breakdown. Oh how true is the cliché ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back.’ We all have our own story and the majority part of the narrative often lies submerged and unseen so there is a risk of being bruised by negative comments.

So with a hint of intrepidation, I am releasing my feelings on the season of dark shadows that has accompanied me lately. It is after all mid-winter, a time of hibernation, a time when nature’s growth lies buried in the deep. It can be scary to look deep into the recesses of our emotional cave facing our shadows. And, we all have our conflicts with our shadow self, it is part of the human condition.

My return from COP26 has not been easy. I came back to the harsh landscape of barrenness with no fresh wells to sup from. I felt like a hungry ghost shunted around by a wind that blew cold. It has been as I said, the season of long dark shadows. I stepped into New Year as though it was just another day, there was no celebration to mark new beginnings. I pondered whether it was going to be the same old, same old ‘stuck’ kind of year. Is the fruitfulness of the year really down to my mindset and how I make it. I’m out on that one for now. I have to say that there was a sense of relief which came upon me in the knowing that Christmas 2021 was coming to end.

It has to be said that there were joyous moments in 2021. I participated in a protest zine, I was interviewed for a documentary on activism, facilitated a successful workshop in the COP26 Fringe and the whole two weeks in Glasgow was wonderful. There was however, the moment of awakening — the project that went nowhere.

For the sake of kindness I do not wish to elaborate on what the project was, suffice to say that it never got further than the second square with the fruitless roll of the dice in a game of snakes and ladders.

Busted plans are part of life and I am no stranger to the heartache of failure. I have to admit it caused me embarrassment and I had to look at every aspect with honest eyes to ascertain the learning curve. It affirmed once again, there was no real interest here in what I do. But I needed to dig deeper to discover where was I in the whole process.

Hands up! I have never been a popular charismatic type of person. The one time I did try to be outgoing, the life and soul of the party, it ended up with me crumpling to the ground in total exhaustion. The tsunami of voices that surrounded me encouraging me to socialise more slowly wore me down and yes like an actor I played a role but it had the consequence of propelling me into inauthenticity which caused ill health.

Maybe, it is down to the manifestation of my own way of being for example when I was at school, I was a nerd. and may I add a happy one, at a time when it wasn’t the in thing to be one. I had no close friends at school, however on saying that it wasn’t a case of nobody likes me I think I shall go and eat worms. In each class I had fellow classmates who I would engage and chat with but my two close friends went to another school. I never experienced bullying or any form of ridicule, I was accepted for my ‘weird’ self. I met my two friends through dance classes and we were very kindred so my time was spent with them and fond memories were created. Perhaps it was at school that I learned to side line myself with no need to be part of a group; it could be said that this may not necessarily have been a positive outcome of my schooling.

I suppose since coming to the village I have once again side lined myself. When I initially came, it was on a temporary basis so I was not proactive in establishing myself, despite it being a charming place to live. Then of course Covid19 restrictions and high rents pinned me down and it has to be said two years is a long time to be in temporary mode.

The failure of the project had to be faced. It would have been wrong to cover it with false positivity or heavy negativity both would have been toxic. I had to face it for what it is and was in order to move forward. As I said it stung, and yes it was kind of embarrassing, like I was in the shoes of No Mates Rae, and for short period I retreated into hibernation but I am still moving forward. Now I accept what happened and as for the embarrassment I can actually own it for what it was — an experience. Moreover, when you dig deep into your emotional cave, and see yourself for who you are, I believe you become more fully functional as an individual. When one stands and begins to owns that sense of self-consciousness and names it I believe it fades into insignificance.

Often we wash over deep hurt, maybe it is just not the time, and I duly respect that. We live in such a fast paced busy world that to sever a spoke in the wheels of our daily activity can result in other repercussions so it can be all too easy to cap the pain and let it fester. I had all the time in the world, we were in semi-lockdown and I wasn’t going anywhere.

As I age I have to come to terms that I do have the traits of a nerd. No please, don’t stroke me with kindness here. I own it, despite being of the mind-set that labels should only be for tinned beans. Thankfully due to the digital age and the rise in popularity of comics, the one who is an introvert and likes comics is no longer seen through this negative lens. Comics are a deeply powerful medium and are at last coming into their own. However, I am in my sixties and while there are some older comic artists, there are very few who share my love of colourful characters nearby, there is still an age ghetto at play. If you are an older comic artist reading this please get in touch. I would value your friendship.

And I suppose this is the rub, the navigating of a formless place between the narrative the aloneness of being yourself and participating in agroups which one has little interest just for the sake of getting out. We all need kindred spirits around us and I am no exception. I want be within walking distance of life again.

So to sum up, I suppose after two years of feeling restricted, and investing in networks further afield and the loosening of local friendships, I tumbled into anomie. I began to really understand its true impact. Thus the season of dark shadows overwhelmed me and I felt isolated and alone. In addition, I was too afraid to utter how I felt because I really did not know how to verbalise it and I needed to work through it without placing myself on the path of someone who merely wanted to fix me.

COP26 afforded the opportunity for stimulation, and as a solo person, and happy to be so I met other like-minded people. I loved the energy of the city. I loved dancing in the rain and allowing the droplets to wash over me breaking my thirst. And I felt alive telling stories in the occupied Baile Hoose, oh what a joy to be with mainly young activists and actively listening to them. New ideas were dancing in the air. The chains binding me into existence mode were broken. I had come face to face with the reality that I am not suited to living in a small village.

I can understand why we create comfort zones, it is so easy to stay in a place which offers familiarity, and for some people that is who they are and it is indeed right for them. But I am not one who can do that easily. yes I may be an introvert but I also like to be surrounded by energy and new ideas. I don’t want to slip into my cocoa just yet.

My current landscape is not all bleak, currently I am in the process of printing out a collection of my stories for a CD. I have also put my CD online but on saying that I now have to go and send a new MP3 for one of the stories because there is an error in it. Ah well, it happens. Hopefully, my CD will be released in February and I am particularly delighted that it was birthed in my season of dark shadows. I am also pleased that it was a personal endeavour using digital tools on my computer. Oh yeah, I struggled with what I call the ‘footery’ bits, fitting the cover images onto a template: vectors to pixels, word documents to jpgs and so on. It certainly gave me a badly needed challenge and offered distraction from the emotional cave I was occupying. I am also nearing the conclusion of my book, I have about twelve illustrations to complete and then it will be ready to send off to be published before which I have the footery bits to look forward to. No matter how both projects fair, the whole exercise is not about sales, it is about me achieving something during the season of the dark shadows. I am looking forward to having copies in my hand and saying ‘I did this.’ I created this at home.

One thing, I can say that it is often the season of dark shadows which offer the most insight and awakening and as I write I feel the dusting of hope in the air. Nothing lasts forever and daylight always comes to elbow out the night.

I have come to terms that this is a brand new era, one that has become increasingly challenging for the wanderer. High rents are making it impossible to continually move. While I appreciate the benefits of being rooted in place it is not something I can easily do. There has to be space for someone like me who needs to pick up their satchel of comics, place their hat on their head and stride into their next destination.

The story continues … … …