Shadow Work at Scale

The Work We’re Avoiding

Fifty years ago this week, the U.S. military pulled out of Vietnam. For many Americans, that date—April 30, 1975—is just a historical footnote. But for me, it hits deeper. I was only a few years away from being drafted. And more importantly, it reminds me what happens when we fail to face our collective shadow.

Shadow Work Isn’t Just Personal

We often talk about shadow work as a solo journey—healing trauma, addressing blind spots, and reclaiming parts of ourselves we've pushed away. That work matters. But shadow work scales. Families, communities, and entire nations carry shadow, too. When those bigger shadows remain unseen, they fester and cause harm—sometimes on a massive scale.

When We Avoid, We Repeat

Take Vietnam. Nearly 60,000 American lives were lost. Millions more Vietnamese, Cambodians, and Laotians died. Yet there’s been no national day of reckoning, no formal apology, no collective moment of reflection. Just silence. That silence is the shadow. When we avoid it, we keep making the same mistakes.

This isn’t about blame—it’s about growth. So here are the real questions:

• What would it look like to do shadow work together?
• Can we admit that our history includes darkness?
• Are we willing to name it so we can finally start to heal?

We All Want a Better World

Whatever our politics, we all want a better future—for ourselves, our children, and our communities. We may disagree on the steps, but we all value safety, dignity, fairness, and peace. That’s common ground. That’s where meaningful work can begin.

Choosing Dialogue Over Division

Doing shadow work at scale means choosing curiosity over certainty. It means noticing when we’re triggered and pausing to ask, “Why?” It means talking to each other—not past each other. Dialogue over division. That’s not weakness. That’s leadership.

My Invitation to You

If this resonates, I invite you to consider a retreat. My programs create space for this kind of reflection—not just personal healing, but cultural healing, too. Together, we work to unwind the patterns that keep us reactive and disconnected—from ourselves and each other.

Whether you’re carrying personal pain, family baggage, or collective grief, there’s a way through. And you don’t have to go it alone.

Let’s not wait another fifty years to look back and say, “We knew better, but we didn’t act.”