There is a scene in Moana that has taken on new meaning for me.
I had a conversation with someone close to me, and it left me spiraling down, down, down. Down to a place that I hadn't been to in a while.
The lonely, dark, hollowed-out caves of hopeless shame. And try as I might, I could not get out. Why couldn't I get out?
I'd read Brené Brown, and I'd read Kristin Neff. I'd even taken a course on self-compassion, which was supposed to combat my shame.
I was in deep. I tried to climb out, but the shame, like hot tar, clung to me like it always does. Pulling me back, making it impossible to free myself. Every time I tried to brush it away, it clung to me even harder and in new places until I was overwhelmed and completely covered.
Ta Kā, like shame, was destructive - so destructive that everything Te Fiti created became infected.
But here's what I finally figured out.
I said before that self-compassion combats shame, and I believe that's true… and also false. A better way to say this might be self-compassion is the antidote to shame. Ultimately, as long as I'm trying to combat shame, it will only stick around and possibly get stronger.
Moana and Maui were determined to defeat Ta Kā. They were strong, and they were fierce, and… they were helpless against her power.
It wasn't until Moana stopped and looked, really looked, at Ta Kā that everything changed. Until then, Ta Kā had been the villain, the enemy, the reason everything went wrong. But Moana saw something in Ta Kā that made her reevaluate what she believed.
I imagine she saw something she related to. Being misunderstood, held back, and told not to take risks. "Stay home where it's safe," she'd been told over and over.
But Moana, being the free thinker that she was, saw that tiny green light in Ta Kā that said she was more than a monster- and just maybe, she wasn't actually a monster at all.
Ta Kā, in all her misguided attempts, was trying to right a wrong. She had something to say; she would not be dismissed or cut down.
Moana finally recognized her for who she was, and then, and only then, was Te Fiti found under all the layers of jagged rock and boiling lava.
You see, when I experience shame - which is way more than I'd care to admit - it burns, destroys, screams, and yells. IT IS POWERFUL. I feel small and insignificant and afraid in its presence. It isn't until I, like Moana, stop fighting and notice what is truly happening that the shame inside me calms.
But just like Moana, it takes courage to face it head-on and listen to what's inside. To see it for what it really is: something inside you telling you it hurts and needs attention.
You would never turn an injured child away, telling them to "get out of here, leave, and never return." We would turn to that child, gather them in our arms, help them, comfort them, and ask them where it hurts. And then, we would turn toward the injury and work on healing and loving that child.
My shame serves a purpose. Is it misguided in its attempts? Yes, it is. But it's begging me to take notice. And how I respond will determine if it gets more insistent or if it calms into something that can be redirected into something beautiful; fertile ground where growth, instead of destruction, can exist.
Try it. Face your shame. Look it square in the eyes, and see what happens if, instead of fighting against the shame, you wrap your arms around yourself and embrace it.
See what happens if you say, "I see you; I know who you are." Then gently explain that "destructive is not who you are." Sit with it for a moment with love and understanding and see what happens to that shame.
Because I am confident that when you do, you will begin to see that glimmer of light inside, that vibrant fertile ground where incredible things can grow.
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