Shadows
Who hasn’t chased shadows? As children, we turned around in wonder at that black figure trailing behind us, miming our every movement in silence. The long and short shapes it took under the blazing sun often reminded me of the distorted mirrors I once saw at an exhibition where one stretched me into a ribbon, another shrank me into a balloon. I still remember the excitement of making strange figures with my hands and body, watching my shadow religiously imitate every antic. I loved riding my bicycle fast just to see the hair of my shadow fly in the wind. Sometimes, I would loosen my grip on the handlebars and lift my arms wide, only to watch my shadow wobble and tumble beside me. There were no inhibitions then — no fear, no restraint. My shadow loved following me everywhere, and I loved its company. I never felt alone. But as we grow older, we begin to neglect that constant companion. Instead, we find ourselves chasing more elusive shadows. Our principled selves, burdened by ...
