By Isaia Photography

The solar eclipse at the end of March invited me to look at what had always been there.

The visible shadow…
That part of me I once condemned as inadequate.

The sadness I never expressed.
The anger I swallowed.
The desire I buried.

And why?

That part I refused to acknowledge,
not as a threat,
not as something coming to destroy me,
but as an ancient presence
finally allowing itself to be seen.

—Perhaps something is finally beginning to mature—

That which for so many years has been kept at bay…
the uncomfortable emotions, the unspoken thoughts,
the wounds still pulsing beneath an apparent strength,
beneath a version of myself I thought I had to be.

And then comes the crack,
the pause,
the darkness.
The eclipse.

Without drama, because it’s seen with compassion.
Without guilt, because the shadow is not the opposite of light,
it’s the other face of truth.
It doesn’t shine, but it holds.
It doesn’t guide, but it reveals.
That which, once seen, can be embraced.
And once embraced, can be transformed.

A descent into depth.

Not to correct myself,
nor to become an ideal version.
But simply to be, real…
with my contradictions, doubts, and humanity.

I’ve always felt a certain attraction to the shadow,
in our relationship of kindness.
The earth where light is conceived,
and its seeds…
the beauty that lives even in what is broken,
ready to bloom into what is most authentic.