Author: Bright Shift

Finding Meaning in the Darkness

Posted on by Bright Shift

18 July

There are times in life when things stop making sense. You may feel disconnected, empty, or lost. The goals that once motivated you no longer inspire. The roles you played no longer fit. And underneath it all, there’s a quiet, persistent discomfort that you can’t explain.

This is what mystics and poets have long called the dark night of the soul. 

The dark night is usually triggered by life events: loss, change, disappointment, or even a growing feeling of emptiness despite outward success. But the real work is happening inside. You may feel emotionally flat, spiritually disconnected, or unsure of your direction.

 It’s a deeper, internal shift where your old sense of self begins to fall away, making space for something more authentic to take shape.

A confrontation with meaninglessness that, paradoxically, births new meaning.

The phrase “dark night of the soul” originates from the 16th-century Spanish mystic and poet St. John of the Cross, a Carmelite monk and major figure in Christian mysticism.

St. John was imprisoned by his own Carmelite brothers for pushing reforms. During this time of extreme suffering and isolation, he underwent a profound spiritual crisis — which became the seed of his mystical insight.

In St. John’s original sense, the “dark night” refers to a spiritual purging — a painful process where the soul is stripped of all attachments, certainties, in order to prepare it for union with the Divine.

Later on Carl Jung and other depth psychologists adopted this phrase metaphorically to describe periods of profound psychological transformation.

In this sense, the “dark night” is not just a crisis, but an initiation — a descent into the unconscious that, if endured consciously, leads to a more authentic Self.

The Gift of Not Knowing

In our goal-oriented culture, uncertainty is treated like a disease to be cured. But the dark night is not a problem to solve—it is a passage to surrender to. It asks us to feel deeply rather than fix quickly. To let go before we understand. To sit with the silence and listen for what emerges, not force it into being.

Many people try to escape this phase by staying busy or finding quick solutions . But, The darkness has its own rhythm. It will not be rushed.

The confusion, doubt, and discomfort are part of the transformation. Your sense of meaning is being reshaped. Your inner life is being reorganized. And that takes time.

Inner Alchemy

During this time, we may feel anger, despair, numbness, or fear. But these are not signs of failure. They are signs of shedding. They are proof that something deeper is moving through us—rearranging the furniture of our psyche, making space for a soul that has outgrown its old container.

Though painful, the dark night is not a dead end—it is an alchemical process. It burns away illusions. It exposes attachments. It dissolves the ego’s tight grip on control.

Holding the Night

We are not meant to “fix” the dark night. We are meant to hold it. To light a candle in the cave.

This is not the time for self-improvement. It is the time for self-remembrance. A time to ask quieter questions:

– What have I outgrown?

– What is trying to die in me?

– What am I being invited to see, feel, or become?

Here are a few things that can support you through the process:

• Accept the uncertainty: You don’t need to have answers right now. This is a time of listening, not fixing.

• Give yourself space: Reduce pressure where possible. Rest more. Say no more.

• Notice what no longer feels true: Pay attention to what you’re naturally drifting away from.

• Stay connected to what grounds you: Even small routines, nature, journaling, or creative expression can help.

• Seek meaningful support: Speak with people who can sit with you in your process.

On the Other Side

Eventually, something shifts. Not all at once, but like dawn through fog. We find ourselves breathing again, not necessarily because the circumstances changed, but because we have. 

The dark night strips away what’s false or outdated. What emerges is a version of yourself that is more in line with your deeper values.

The process isn’t easy. But it often leads to stronger self-awareness, greater emotional resilience, and a clearer sense of what truly matters.

And this, perhaps, is the secret: the dark night is not the opposite of light. It is the doorway to it.

Menopause as a sacred passage

Posted on by Bright Shift

11 July

Menopause is undoubtedly one of the most challenging phases in a woman’s life. The hormonal shifts bring about a cascade of physical and psychological changes.

 Amidst navigating these inner transformations and adjusting to a new version of oneself, women often face an added burden: the societal pressure to conform to  outdated ideals of what it means to be a woman.

In cultures obsessed with youth and appearance, aging is rarely seen as something to be honored. Society frequently portrays menopause as a kind of expiration date—an end to a woman’s right to flourish, feel deeply feminine, or living passionately.

But it wasn’t always this way. In many traditional and Indigenous cultures, menopause was not seen as a decline, but rather as a rite of passage into a new, often more empowered phase of life.

In Native American Cultures, Elder women were often seen as wisdom keepers or spiritual guides. After menopause, women were believed to hold greater spiritual power because their life force was no longer tied to fertility, menstrual cycles or childbirth.

The Ancient Celtic Traditions marked menopause as the transition from the Mother to the Crone in the Triple Goddess archetype (Maiden–Mother–Crone). The Crone wasn’t viewed negatively — she represented wisdom, intuition, and the power of the unconscious. In Jungian psychology also, the Crone is the third aspect of the Triple Goddess representing wisdom, intuition, and transformation.

The Crone is free of societal expectations, deeply connected to inner knowing, and becomes a guide or teacher for others. She embraces aging as a deepening rather than a decline.

Post-menopausal women often became healers, storytellers, and leaders in their communities.  

In Some African Tribes, among the Kongo people of Central Africa, post-menopausal women could become ngangas (spiritual healers or shamans).

The Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) viewed menopause as a natural transition and a time to restore and cultivate “yin” energy.

In this tradition menopause was not feared or pathologized, but supported through herbs, qigong, and diet to ease the body into its next phase.

In some Middle Eastern & Mediterranean folk cultures, older women — could gain social freedom, autonomy, and the ability to speak more openly. Menopause was sometimes seen as a liberation from patriarchal control.

Across cultures and throughout mythology, the menopause transition has been honored as a sacred passage into eldership and embodied wisdom. This transition is not the end of something, but the beginning of a deeper, more sovereign self. 

When embraced consciously, menopause becomes an initiation — not into invisibility or decline, but into an integration.

In a culture obsessed with youth, women are often not given permission to age — and certainly not to age with power. But we should  rewrite that story.

Menopause is an opportunity for women to explore their truest essence, beyond their physiology.

For a conscious woman who is ready to explore the deeper layers of the psyche, menopause is an opportunity to discover that the Self transcends biology.

The identity of the woman gets a chance to witness its worth, and to realize that its truest essence is not tied to the physical body, fertility, or youthful appearance. It is a stage in life where we can come closer to the Self—or the soul—that is not bound by any physical or biological limitations.

The Bhagavad Gita, the sacred Hindu scripture, describes the nature of that Self so beautifully:

“But the soul is indestructible; spades cannot cut it down, fire does not burn it, water does not wet it, and the wind never dries it. The soul is beyond the power of all such things.”

It becomes a deeply powerful experience, once we accept the rhythm of life and allow it to show us what it has to offer.

In a menopausal woman something ancient is awakening. And the world is longing for this wiser version of a woman.

What If You Didn’t Have a Good Childhood—Now What?!

Posted on by Bright Shift

09 July

We’ve all heard of it: “Your childhood shapes everything.” From attachment styles to core beliefs, developmental psychology has long argued that who you are today is a direct extension of who you were allowed to be—often before you even had words to describe it. Traumatic infancy? Emotionally unavailable caregivers? A chaotic home? According to many approaches, you may be destined to reenact these early patterns across your adult life.

But, this is only half the story.

 Difficult childhood is not a permanent sentence, but it can rather be a portal. 

Traditional developmental psychology has gifted us with powerful frameworks: Erikson’s psychosocial stages, Bowlby’s attachment theory, and Piaget’s cognitive development, to name a few. But these models are often steeped in linear causality and early-life determinism—the idea that what happens in the “critical window” (usually birth to age 7) can set the story of the rest of our life. 

This perspective, while useful, can be subtly disempowering. It reinforces the belief that if your early needs weren’t met—in other words, if you didn’t have the best childhood—you’ll spend the rest of your life compensating for what’s missing rather than discovering what’s possible.

Psychologically speaking, this is a form of inner colonization—a takeover of the soul’s narrative by scientific fatalism.

We need to challenge the mindset that narrates adulthood is a static destination. That  we solely “become” someone, filtered through the damage or success of our early years.

Human consciousness is not a closed system.

The psyche is relational, and regenerative.

Moreover development is not confined to childhood—it continues across the entire lifespan. We are not just shaped by our past; we are also summoned by our future.

Within us lies a blueprint not only for survival, but for self-actualization and self-transcendence. Even the most wounded childhood cannot erase the deeper call of the Self.

Childhood as Context, Not Destiny

If you didn’t have a good childhood, you didn’t get the “ideal soil.” But that doesn’t mean your roots can’t grow.

In fact, adversity can serve as a spiritual initiator—a rupture that forces a confrontation with deeper truths. 

We need to heal our childhood wounds, but we can also learn to transform them into inner resources:

• The absence of safety can become the birthplace of radical self-trust.

• The loss of voice can become a commitment to authentic self-expression.

• The experience of not being seen can become a deeper attunement to others.

This is not spiritual bypassing.

It is an invitation to take authorship over your own becoming—to reclaim your psyche from the outdated narrative that says, “Because your childhood was broken, so are you.”

From Fixing the Past to Forming the Self

Much of therapy still revolves around “reparenting,” “inner child work,” and “healing attachment wounds.” These are powerful and necessary tools. But they are not the final word.

At some point, a psychological shift occurs:

You stop asking “What happened to me?” and begin asking “What do I now choose to become?”

 Your story becomes a living myth—not a pathology to be treated, but a journey to be honored.

So… Now What?

If you didn’t have a good childhood:

• You are not a failed prototype.

• You are not an emotional orphan waiting for rescue.

• You are not doomed to repeat what was done to you.

We are an unfolding human, capable of inner authorship, and spiritual emergence,

Psychological maturity is not measured by how ideal our childhood was, but by how courageously we can now engage with our life story—not as a fixed past, but as a living, evolving act of creation.

Becoming Who You Were Meant to Be: What Individuation Really Means

Posted on by Bright Shift

08 July

At some point in adulthood, a quiet discomfort begins to rise.You’ve built a life, followed expectations, achieved things.But beneath the surface, something feels… off.

The roles you’ve played start to feel tight. The dreams that once drove you lose their urgency. You might even feel lost, restless, or emotionally disconnected.

This is often the beginning of a deeper psychological process—a process of becoming who you were truly meant to be.

What Is Individuation?

In depth psychology, this journey is called individuation. It’s not about becoming an isolated individual or reaching some perfected version of yourself. It’s about becoming whole. It means discovering and integrating the many parts of your inner world—especially those you’ve disowned, ignored, or kept in the shadows.

Most of us grow up adapting to what’s expected of us. We become the good child, the achiever, the caretaker, or the rebel. These identities help us survive and belong—but they’re not the full truth of who we are.

Individuation is the slow and courageous act of peeling back those layers to uncover what lies beneath.

A key part of this process is facing what is called the shadow in Jungian psychology—the parts of yourself you were taught to hide or feel ashamed of. That could be your anger, vulnerability, creativity, or even your joy.

When ignored, the shadow shows up in projection, envy, self-sabotage, or unexplained emotional reactions. But when acknowledged, it becomes a source of strength and clarity.

Individuation isn’t about “fixing” the shadow—it’s about integrating it.

You learn to say: “This is part of me too. And it has something to teach me.”

A Shift in Center

As you do this inner work, a shift happens. You begin living less from the ego—your constructed self—and more from an inner sense of truth. You may feel less interested in pleasing others and more drawn to alignment, purpose, and authenticity.

This doesn’t mean abandoning your responsibilities or relationships. It means showing up to them more fully, more honestly, and with a clearer sense of self.

You move from living by default to living by design—from reacting to consciously responding.

A Lifelong Journey

Individuation is not a one-time transformation. It’s a lifelong unfolding.

With every new chapter—grief, joy, aging, love, failure—there’s another layer of the self asking to be seen and integrated.

It can be uncomfortable, even painful at times. But it’s also deeply meaningful. Because what you’re discovering isn’t some ideal version of yourself—it’s your true self, rooted in both your complexity and your clarity.

In the End

Becoming who you were meant to be doesn’t mean arriving at a perfect identity.

It means becoming more honest, more whole, more alive.

And it begins the moment you stop asking, “Who do others want me to be?”

and start asking,

“What in me is waiting to be lived?”