When the Light Brings the Shadow: Navigating the Unexpected Lows of Ascension

There are moments in the spiritual path where we soar so high—after breakthroughs, downloads, initiations—that we assume the path forward will continue to rise in a golden arc. But for many, what follows the brightest light is the deepest shadow.

Recently, after a heart-expanding experience reconnecting with nature and ancestral joy, I returned home expecting to carry that glow into my daily life, to uplift my family and continue radiating peace. Instead, I fell into silence.

I found myself irritable, disconnected, emotional. I busied my body with tasks—cleaning, reorganizing—hoping to quiet what I couldn’t yet understand. Old wounds resurfaced. Memories I thought were long processed returned with intensity, abandonment, heartbreak, patterns from the past I swore I had healed began whispering again.

Even a simple moment—like seeing a message pop up on a partner’s phone—became a mirror. It was not because of the message itself, but because of the hidden places it touched in me, the doubt, the fear, the inherited wounds. And yet, something had changed. This time, I didn’t spiral. I observed.

I let the waves move through me like a sacred storm, knowing that this wasn’t regression—it was recalibration. This, dear reader, is ascension. It is not only about reaching higher frequencies. It is about integrating the lower ones with grace. Sometimes, the higher we rise, the more deeply we feel. The light within us illuminates what was once hidden—not as punishment, but as a chance to truly transform.

This is the sacred truth: Your ascension will bring your shadow into the light. And when it does, you have a choice—not to fear it, but to meet it with love.

For those of you going through this:

• You are not broken.

• You are not alone.

• You are not “failing” your spiritual journey.

You are being initiated more deeply into truth. You are learning how to anchor love in the face of fear. You are learning how to stay in your center while the past knocks on your door. You are transmuting, even when it feels like you're unraveling.

Let yourself feel.

Let yourself rest.

Let yourself witness the patterns without identifying with them.

And most of all, trust this: your light is not lost—it is expanding.

Let this be your reminder to be gentle with yourself.

Take baths with rose petals. Cry when your heart needs to. Speak softly to the parts of you that still remember pain. This journey isn’t linear. But, it is sacred.

And if you are here, reading this—please know: you are not walking through the darkness alone. Your presence, your process, your breath through it all is making ripples of healing across the collective. May you walk with trust. May you rise with gentleness. May you be held by the love you already are.

From my heart to yours,

Solarys