I am a graffiti lover, and I believe that sometimes you can randomly stumble upon truly great pieces of art. It’s fascinating how someone can choose a simple wall to express their voice, share an invitation to think differently, or pour out their deepest thoughts and lessons for the world to see. This particular graffiti, with its poetic words, “You are the piece of shadow where my reflection gets lost,” is no exception. But if you look closely, there’s another layer — a small child drawn beneath the words, staring out at us with haunting simplicity.

The child adds a dimension that turns this piece from a simple poetic statement into something deeper, perhaps even more vulnerable. What does this child represent? Innocence? Vulnerability? Or perhaps the part of ourselves that still lingers in the shadows, waiting to be acknowledged?

The Child as the Shadow

In the poetic phrase, “You are the piece of shadow where my reflection gets lost,” the child below the words could represent the forgotten or hidden parts of ourselves — the childlike essence we often push aside as we grow older. Thich Nhat Hanh often spoke about the “inner child,” the vulnerable, tender self within us that never fully disappears. This child doesn’t judge, doesn’t hold grudges, and doesn’t obsess over reflections or shadows. The child simply is.

When someone else becomes the “shadow where your reflection gets lost,” they may be leading you back to this inner child — a space where you no longer need to hold onto the ego, to define yourself through external mirrors. Instead, you return to simplicity, to being.

The Dance of Light, Shadow, and Innocence

Thich Nhat Hanh often spoke of interbeing, the idea that nothing exists independently — it all depends on everything else. The child beneath the graffiti reminds us of this interconnectedness. A shadow can’t exist without light, and a reflection can’t exist without a surface to reflect upon. The light is clarity, understanding, and individuality — the bright outline of who we think we are. The shadow? That’s the unknown: our fears, desires, insecurities, and everything we’d rather keep hidden.

And the child? The child stands as a reminder that what we often push into the shadows — the tender, vulnerable parts of ourselves — are what make us whole. To lose your reflection in someone else’s shadow is to let go of the rigid definitions of who you are and to surrender to the shared mystery of existence. In that space, we rediscover the openness and innocence of a child.

The Shadow as a Mindful Teacher

Thich Nhat Hanh teaches that even difficult experiences — the shadows in our lives — are opportunities to grow. “No mud, no lotus,” he would say. Shadows, like the mud that nourishes the lotus flower, are essential for transformation. They hold the lessons we often avoid but desperately need.

The child in this graffiti seems to understand this truth better than we do. Look at the simplicity of its gaze — not judging, not resisting. The shadow in this artwork isn’t darkness in the negative sense. It’s the place where we step away from the spotlight of our self-importance, where we can release the constant need to define who we are. It’s a place where, like the child, we can simply be.

“Be Purple”: A Return to Childlike Presence

And then there’s the enigmatic signature at the bottom: “Be Purple.” Why purple? Thich Nhat Hanh often spoke about the beauty of balance — of finding harmony between opposites. Purple is the result of blending the fiery energy of red with the calm serenity of blue. It represents transformation, just as mindfulness transforms suffering into peace, and fear into understanding.

To “be purple” is also to embrace the simplicity of a childlike mind — a mind that sees no division between light and shadow, reflection and loss. It’s an invitation to live fully in the present moment, to embrace innocence and openness, and to allow transformation to unfold naturally, without resistance.

A Reflection Worth Losing

Most of us spend our lives staring at our own reflection — our accomplishments, our image, our identity. But, as Thich Nhat Hanh taught, “We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness.” To lose your reflection in someone else’s shadow is not to disappear but to awaken. It is to recognise that you and the shadow, you and the other person, are not two separate entities but part of the same dance of existence.

And what about the child? The child stands beneath these words, not lost in the shadows but waiting for us to remember who we are. To lose your reflection might be to rediscover the simple gaze of that child within you, the one who knew how to live without the weight of ego or expectations.

The Purple Path Forward

So, the next time you encounter someone who pulls you into their shadow, don’t resist. Don’t cling to your reflection or your ego. Instead, let yourself dissolve, as the child reminds us to. Step into that space of unknowing, where innocence meets transformation. Trust that, in losing your reflection, you’re discovering something infinitely more meaningful: connection, humility, and peace.

And as you walk this path, remember the wisdom of both the graffiti and Thich Nhat Hanh: lose yourself, embrace the shadow, reconnect with your inner child — and be purple.

Perhaps the author of this graffiti meant to convey something entirely different, something only they can truly understand. And that’s precisely why it is art. It invites us to bring our own stories, our own meanings, and, like a shadow, it takes shape depending on the light we shine upon it. That’s the magic — art doesn’t give us answers; it gives us the questions we didn’t know we needed to ask. And for that, we should be grateful.