Whatever you look away from doesn’t vanish, it goes underground.

It slips into the shadow, where everything else you didn’t want to feel or couldn’t safely express has already been exiled. The ignored, the overwhelmed, the denied. And once there, it doesn’t disappear. It joins everything else waiting to be seen, to be felt, to be brought back into the wholeness of who you are.

Feelings. How many difficult feelings have you turned away from because they made you feel guilty, weak, or too exposed? Or maybe you turned away from your feelings simply because they were too painful and inconvenient. Perhaps it was the messaging growing up telling you that to not express feelings is to be strong, neither parent attuning to your feelings as a child.

But feelings don’t dissolve by being avoided. They stay lodged in the body, in the psyche, in the soul. And unless they’re welcomed back, they shape us from the shadows.

Gifts. Yes, even your gifts get exiled. Like being a naturally gifted artist in a family that valued practicality. Or a sensitive, empathic boy growing up in a culture of toxic masculinity. The world doesn’t always know what to do with your magic. And when it doesn’t get received, your brilliance goes into hiding too. Our gifts are specific. They are meant to be nourished, not left to grow mold in the dark.

Wounds. Whether it’s the big ruptures, abuse, neglect, major harm or the slow drip of subtle betrayals that alter the shape of a child’s sense of self, the wounds remain. And if they aren’t brought to the surface for healing, they calcify. The wounds we still carry from past lives come with us into our present life. This is what karma really is, the soul’s unfinished healing, waiting for us in this life.

And even deeper than the personal shadow is the ancestral shadow. This is the ocean floor of the psyche.

This level of the shadow doesn’t just belong to you but to everyone who came before you in the bloodline. The alcoholism, the rage, the abandonment, the silence. The unspoken rules. The buried grief. The patterns that repeat themselves across generations until someone, maybe you, stops and says: no more.

You are not responsible to heal the bloodline but you can offer back to the ancestors what you no longer wish to hold. Whatever healing you do on yourself heals seven generations forward and seven generations back. 

You don’t have to excavate the entire shadow. It’s not about perfection. You can become more aware. And in that awareness, there’s power. You can become more attuned and healing is the result of attunement.

Shadow work isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet, a daily act of turning toward what was once turned away from, with compassion instead of fear. This is how you reclaim yourself, not by fixing what’s broken, but by seeing what was exiled and saying, you belong.