my shadow side

     Laura and I are walking at the reservoir. Swish swish swish swish swish swish swish swish swish swish....
     "Your shorts are so loud!" she says. "Do you hear them?"
     "It's not just my shorts. It's yours, too. They're the same material, La."
     "Stop," she says. I stop. She takes a few steps and stops.
     I take a few steps and stop.
     "Wait a second." She takes a few more steps.
     "I guess you're right."
     Those are among my favorite words.
     We walk on. Our shorts are crazy loud for about a quarter of a mile, until we stop noticing the noise. Then there is just a sweet peace between us.

     At the Counseling Institute where I teach each summer, I run this ice breaker that divides the group into social styles. There's the controller, the promoter, the analyzer, the supporter. You recognize these in one form or another; they're Jungian archetypes and we all have a style that comes most naturally to us, whether we learn other ways of being or not. Push comes to shove, we lean most heavily on one, maybe two, of the styles.
    The controller tends toward formality and likes being in charge. If everyone would just do as they do, life would work so smoothly, they think.
     The supporter can spot other people's feelings a mile away, and responds to them intuitively. Their theme: only connect.
     The promoters are the hitchhikers of the world -- more spontaneous, stream of consciousness. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don't, but they trust themselves to improvise. They're inclusive.
     The analyzer can't decide between the sushi, which would be kind of a treat, and the giant salad, which also sounds kind of good. The analyzer can be pretty introverted, and can happily wave goodbye to clients and get back to the friends thoughts in her head. The analyzer can spend a very long time tinkering with a blog post because it doesn't sound quite right.
     Reserved yet somehow expressive, I fluctuate between the analyzer (able to think something to death, then wondering about where that expression came from, all while the waiter is waiting for my decision) and the promoter ("What's your favorite food here, Raj?"). Let's just say that on several occasions I have found it useful to give the waiter three menu options and then say "just surprise me." That kind of captures the blend.
     My shadow side is the controller. I hadn't recognized this until recently. Oh, I know I can be controlling, but whenever I describe Controllers in this workshop, I do not think I am talking about myself, at all.
     But when Sam, a beloved colleague at the Institute, put his breakfast protein powder in a plastic cup, my controller came out. "Sam!" I glared in what I hoped was a friendly way. "Hunh?" He doesn't speak friendly glare. "Protein powder in a plastic cup? You should use a glass!"
     Janet, another beloved colleague, busted me. She tapped me several times on my collarbone. "You," she said. "Your shadow side is a controller!" She beamed with delight.
     "What?? No."
     "Yes. It comes out when you care about somebody. Especially if they step on your principles."
     Like a good analyzer, I thought about it all that day. I guess I'm still thinking about it.
     She's right. If I love you, you have to deal with my shadow side and my need to tell you not to use plastic, to let you know that you're not supposed to pronounce the e in forte, and to prove that both of our shorts are making noise. If I don't feel attached, I give you a by.
     It's a tough trade-off.
     Beloved attached ones, please bear with me, including my shadow side. I'm trying to evolve here, and I can only control so much of that process.