ever need a bad day retreat？
ever need a bad day retreat？
real account of a chinese kid choose to “lay flat”, shedding the pleaser facade, Dark Mofo in Australia and Carl Jung’s shadow self
When I started primary school in China, I distinctly recall that at the conclusion of every essay, there had to be an uplifting tone—a declaration that life is wonderful, expressing gratitude for my family, friends, and teachers, and affirming the relentless strength of our country.
As I grow older, this kind of forward momentum and the weight of expectations begin to frighten me. There were times when I wished at school I had received an education on the valuable lessons hidden within darkness, bad news, and negative emotions.
The month of May was incredibly hectic for me. Usually, after a few days of relentless work, I find myself surrendering to a "bad day" ritual, which includes, but is not limited to:
plunging into the abyss of Soft White Underbelly Youtube channel, to a former lawyer investigates the host's involvement in the conservatorship of interviewees. I delve into Hilary Duff's feud with Paris Hilton, and explore how Rebecca Black endured the worst forms of internet bullying and triumphed with resilience and countless songs…
I become a machine, vigorously scrolling through the darker corners of the internet, allowing dopamine to invade my brain. With a stomach full of KFC's double meat patty, non-diet coke, and chicken wings, I envision myself melting into my couch like the delicious gravy of mashed potatoes. I become hooked and consumed by the internet until the sky outside completely turns dark.
Judge as you may, the objective is to willingly surrender oneself to the indulgence of laziness and the dark desire for curiosity, as a means to balance out the other productive and well-functioning days of being human.
People need bad days to function as normal human beings. Growing up, I never really thought this notion was necessary. I would be trapped with guilt if say I binged on anime all night, mentally labeling myself as a bad student, I would swear to study twice as hard next time.
When I entered American high school, all hell broke loose, and the tendency of labeling had worsened. Submitting to authorities, doing reading and homework — the formula of being a good student that I learned in China — no longer worked. Here, it’s about being sporty and crack jokes. Being pretty doesn’t hurt, and being sociable is perhaps the most important perhaps (cliche, I know, so did the 17-year-old me). All those elements were so much harder to achieve than good grades. It was the biggest culture shock.
As an adult, I often have trouble articulating the shock. Perhaps it's too easy to write it off as cultural differences, but it has more to do with the expectations of being good, going somewhere good, and the widening gap between the two. It feels hollow trying to solve this dilemma, which only makes the whole situation worse.
My only solution was to be a people pleaser, a sweet Caroline (my English name at the time was Coraline, inspired by a Neil Gaiman-scripted kid horror film, which sounded so much cooler in theory but changed to Caroline because it was easier to pronounce). I embraced and became a proud member of the Midwest nice culture, putting on a smiley face but feeling icy inside. At times, I also befriended passive aggressiveness. I suppressed the urge to complain or slack off as much as possible, and this continued for years, well into adulthood, through school and work. Being a good person was crucial to me, and it seemed easy—just disregard your own feelings as much as possible.
Throughout my twenties, I suffered silently, wrestling with shedding the pleaser facade. Even living in two cities known for their proud-to-be-rude attitudes, New York and Beijing, couldn't change me.
When I confided in my friend about my inner struggles, she was initially taken aback by my years of disguise. She then suggested that I explore Carl Jung's concept of the "shadow self," and shared with me his quote, "I'd rather be whole than good."
Shadow self of Carl Jung
Jung's theory highlights two primary archetypes: the Persona and the Shadow Self. The Persona represents the image we project to the world and how we want to be perceived. On the other hand, the Shadow resides within our unconscious mind and encompasses repressed ideas, instincts, impulses, desires, weaknesses, and embarrassing fears. According to Jung, these aspects contribute to our creative energy. During childhood, we begin to separate the two as we are often instructed on what not to do or show, leading to the formation of an acceptable mask (the Persona) and a hidden aspect (the Shadow).
In my case, my shadow self embodies laziness, underachievement, and approval-craving mindset. It likely developed when my parents or teachers scolded me for prioritizing things other than schoolwork. Now, as an adult, my task is to integrate the self and shadow, to breathe and relax, and to go with the flow of accomplishing tasks.
But not all of the shadows are necessarily always 'bad' and, in fact, they can be quite helpful in some situations, called golden shadows:
“Being lustful, for example, can help to add fire to your relationship.
Displaying emotional detachment can be beneficial while performing a major surgery.
And being paranoid can help you safely parent an unruly child."
Shadow work is the therapy exercise you can do: in a comprehensive shadow 101 post recommended by my friend Ada, I discovered shadow projection. For example, if you are really irritated by certain individuals or love and admire them for certain qualities, the strong emotions evoked are actually a sign that those traits exist within you. The post recommended a four-step shadow work process, which I tried on two people who irritated me the most. It worked pretty well, as switching roles really helps you understand both others and yourself.
Philosopher Alan Watts provided an excellent explanation of this concept. He emphasized that if we fail to acknowledge and integrate the shadow aspects within ourselves, which are reflected in the traits of others that irritate us, the shadow can remain repressed and accumulate over time. Eventually, this repression carries the risk of overpowering us and may lead to depression or harmful actions. It hinders our ability to develop self-love and live authentically. Moreover, as a society, keeping the shadow aspects hidden in the shadows is highly dangerous and only leads to further repression.
Ada’s Australia healing journey and the Dark Mofo Festival
This is where it took me to peak into Ada’s Australia journey. We both participated in the same US high school exchange program, received our education in China, and had similar cultural backgrounds. However, we didn't truly know each other until she invited me to join her at a temple retreat where she was staying.
Both being massive people pleasers with xNFP personalities, we were always attentive to the needs of others. Ada wanted to serve others altruistically, I was desperately craving approval from others. It was these experiences from the past that led us on a spiritual quest as we entered adulthood.
At the time we were speaking, Ada was living in Australia, her routine consisted of morning runs in the mountains and visits to the local grocery store, say hi to the wallaby that’s picking from her leftover rice outside. As it was winter there, she resided high up on the mountain and kept the heater on to stay warm. Occasionally, she would cook delicious lamb meat soup for added warmth.
And then one day, she saw an incredible beam of light outside of the city. It looked like an alien’s travel path to Earth, she enjoyed indulging in the possibilities of interacting with aliens and imagining the things she might do in the outer space. Later, she learned that it was part of art installations from an art festival called Dark Mofo.
Held every year days before the southern winter solstice, all events are held at night, gothic art performance, hallucinations, rave-like theatre work…visually it feels like hell on earth, the end ritual? Bunch of nude people dunk on cold lake on the shortest day of the year.
Ada was drawn to the almost-religious ritual, even though all the art there are meant to be not religion specific. People are invited to write down their deepest and darkest secret, and throw to the belly of duck-billed platypus ogoh-ogoh—a totem-like sculpture derived from a Balinese Hindu purification ritual and crafted by Balinese artists. After accumulating a few days, the duck is burned in the end.
"It feels like a giant party," she recounted her first-hand experience. "No matter how old or young you are, there are lots of parents taking their kids, with sons sitting on top of their fathers' shoulders and girlfriends perched on top of their boyfriends' shoulders, all watching the fire... I was standing next to a father and son pair, and the father whispered calmly to the son as if there was nothing to be afraid of.”
"The crowd was quiet, and the band played haunting and ethereal music. The energy in the air was calm.”
"Even though everyone burned their most feared thing, if you think about it, the kids probably wrote something like, 'I am afraid of spiders’.”
This kind of conversation is perhaps lacking in the education and family life we were immersed in back in China. For as long as I can remember, I rarely saw my parents express their fears, as if pretending they weren't there would make it easier for us all to handle.
"Ever since I wrote down my most feared thing, I have been anticipating its burn, telling myself that on the day it is burned, my fear will turn to ashes. It's also a self-affirming process,” Ada said in our phone call.
It is said that the exploration of the Shadow can be linked to ancient Shamanic teachings, which describe the journey of experiencing serious illness, spiritual death, or delving into inner darkness, and eventually being reborn with healing capacities and gaining wisdom that can support the tribe.
And for both of us, burning the pleaser outer layer is not as an easy feat as the ritual.
Jung’s self and buddhists’ “no self”
As a curious Buddhist practitioner, there is an obvious dichotomy: Jung’s shadow firmly stands on the concept of self, characteristics that the self shows and hides; but Buddhists advocate for omitting self, to go above and beyond one’s self.
Which way is the right path for healing? Does Jung's emphasis on self and shadow enlarge our ego? I sought help from Ada, who has actual experiences of living in temples and discussing with monks.
I think both Eastern and Western thought approach the problem of suffering with the same intention: to alleviate it. However, the Buddhist way is more radical, describing an ideal state of being where one is unable to attach anything to their ego, rendering them indestructible.
“It can also be interpreted as cold and careless when one doesn't hold any emotional attachment to their loved ones. It can appear quite hurtful.” Ada, who took a pause from her temple life to focus on her own healing, has learned to maintain an objective view of her days as a practitioner.
She argued that in the Buddhist school of thought, another action to practice "no self" is to care for others as much as possible without any selfishness. However, in the cases she witnessed, practitioners would do good things with some expectations or for a sense of ulterior motive. And in the process of unlearning her pleaser tendency, Ada found that the altruistic act can be disastrous.
The key went back to love yourself before you can give to others.
For my first phase of shadow work, I decided to practice being more open about my feelings. This involved expressing my unhappy thoughts to my friends, saying no to them, absent at times to take care of my shit. I wasn't sure if this made me a more annoying person, but I went ahead anyway, allowing my inner child to growl. And to my surprise, I found that I really needed it, and some friends stayed.
Ada told me that when we (in-transitioning-pleasers) being happy ourselves, can unconsciously making others around us happy.
I have yet to get here but this soup rinsed off a multitude of fears within me, including but not limited to the fear of not being liked and abandoned by friends.
I think this is where the two approaches align: integrating or embracing the Shadow doesn't equate to indulging in those dark desires. It's one thing to add more fuel to the fire and another to accept it, meaning to allow oneself to first become aware of it and then take responsibility for it. These dark aspects are a part of ourselves, but they don't define us. A simple meditation technique to practice this is noting, where we acknowledge those thoughts and let them pass like dark clouds, patiently waiting for the next one.
It oddly feels good to give myself permission to do those things. As time goes on, I try to get the hang of it, or at least go to bed without sending self-pity messages to friends. I can rest assured that having a bad day is absolutely okay.
*If you are curious about Ada’s journey, feel free to follow her via Little Red Book.