The Castle of Happiness: Embracing our Wholeness

Once upon a time, in a quiet valley surrounded by rolling hills, a young dreamer named Elena set out to create her Castle of Happiness. Her dream was to live in a place where she could see the entire expanse of the land, to feel deeply connected to the rolling hills and the ever-changing sky. She envisioned a sanctuary where she could experience freedom and joy in abundance.

But then, questions crept into her mind. What if I feel scared of intruders? she thought. To protect herself, she built high, strong walls around her castle. What if I experience rage or torment? she wondered next. She dug a deep moat, wide and filled with water, to ensure there were no reasons for such feelings to surface. And what if I feel grief or loneliness? That thought unsettled her most of all. So, she surrounded her castle with mirrors that reflected dazzling scenes, constantly showing her new things to capture her attention, keeping her too occupied to sit with the stillness that might bring such emotions to light.

Inside her castle, Elena filled the space with beauty. Sunlight poured through stained-glass windows, music echoed through the halls, and Elena crafted a life filled with laughter and warmth. At last, she thought, I am safe, protected, at peace. This is happiness. 

But as the years passed, she noticed a quiet unease. Though she was safe, her walls also kept out the unexpected joys, the surprise visits, the music of strangers, the sounds of life. She grew lonely, but she told herself it was a small price to pay for peace.

And then came the dreams. One night, Elena dreamed of shadows. They climbed over her high walls, slipping through cracks, pooling in the corners of her castle, like ink on the floor. In her dream, the shadows weren’t monsters; they were pieces of herself. Grief, anger, fear, parts she had locked away. Though she had banished them, they found a way to return. In her waking hours, Elena felt their silent presence: in the ache of her body, in the heaviness of her heart, in the words she could not say but somehow still communicated.

This was the truth of her castle: even though she had tried to push the darkness away, it remained within her and around her. The moat and walls couldn’t stop it, because, as field theory reminds us, that which is unspoken still has a way of being communicated. The energy we carry, our unexpressed pain, fear, and sorrow, finds expression in the field between us and others. The shadows climbed the walls not because they were trying to terrorise her or because they were evil, but because they were a part of Elena, a part of the wholeness she had forgotten.

The energy we carry, our unexpressed pain, fear, and sorrow, finds expression in the field between us and others. The shadows climbed the walls not because they were trying to terrorise her or because they were evil, but because they were a part of Elena, a part of the wholeness she had forgotten.

The Illusion of a Perfect Fortress

Elena's story reflects a common struggle. In our pursuit of happiness, we often build metaphorical walls to protect ourselves from pain, anger, fear, or grief. We might distance ourselves from people or experiences that challenge us or emotions and thoughts that feel icky. But in doing so, we risk severing ties to our own humanity. These "bad" feelings, the shadows, the ick, the messy emotions, are not intruders but essential parts of the whole.

When we push these parts away, they don't disappear. Instead, they manifest in subtle ways: dreams of darkness, persistent physical discomfort, strained relationships, or a quiet sense of disconnection. Field theory teaches us that everything we repress still exists in the energetic field between ourselves and the world. The stories we refuse to tell, the pain we avoid, and the emotions we suppress are still felt, by us, and by others. Over time, we may find ourselves living not from authenticity, but from a script we’ve written to maintain the illusion of happiness. True living requires us to embrace the shadows, to acknowledge the full spectrum of human experience.

A True Castle of Happiness

What if happiness wasn’t about high walls and moats, but about open doors and flourishing gardens? To find a true castle of happiness, we can let down our defences and make space for every part of our being. We can trade the isolation of fortresses for the connection of shared spaces. Instead of hiding from sorrow or anger, we can sit with them, move into and beyond their core, learn from them, and integrate them.

Imagine replacing the moat with fields where your inner child laughs and plays. Imagine the walls coming down, replaced by flowering vines and open gates. In this castle, happiness isn’t an absence of hardship but a presence of wholeness. It is a place where every part of us, light and shadow, has a seat at the table.

In this castle, happiness isn’t an absence of hardship but a presence of wholeness. It is a place where every part of us, light and shadow, has a seat at the table.

Happiness thrives not when we banish the dark but when we weave it into our lives. By embracing all parts of ourselves, we create a home, not just a fortress, for our hearts. And in doing so, we find not just a castle, but a living, breathing field of joy, connection, and authenticity.

What does your own Castle of Happiness look like? Have you built high walls to keep out the shadows, or perhaps surrounded yourself with distractions to avoid confronting difficult feelings? What might happen if you let the walls down, just a little? What could you build in your own life to hold space for grief, anger, or fear in a way that feels safe and nurturing?

Take a moment to imagine your castle not as a fortress, but as a place of connection, where all parts of you, light and shadow, are welcome. How might that change the way you experience joy, love, and the fullness of life?

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*Side Note: A Disclaimer About Working with Self

While exploring the shadow can be a deeply healing process, it’s important to approach this work with care, especially if you are working through trauma. Reconnecting with marginalised parts of the self may evoke intense emotions or memories. If you have experienced significant trauma, consider seeking support from a trained therapist or practitioner who can provide a safe and grounded space for this exploration. Process Work and other holistic modalities are most effective when carried out with sensitivity and support tailored to your unique needs.