The Earth tilts deeper into darkness now, each day a little shorter, each night a little colder. This shift is subtle but undeniable, a quiet invitation to turn inward, to let our attention sink beneath the surface. For this first week, we begin with a simple, essential task: acknowledging the shadow. The parts of ourselves we’d rather not see. The emotions we avoid, the impulses we deny, the pieces of our own story we’ve cast aside. Shadow work starts here—not in judgment or analysis, but in quiet recognition.
Our guides on this descent, Thoth and Khonsu, bring different forms of illumination. Thoth, the ancient god of wisdom and writing, walks beside us as a silent scribe, observing without judgment, recording without interference. He teaches us that to name something is to begin to see it clearly. As we put words to what we find, Thoth helps us approach our own inner landscape with honesty, making space for what we often push away. Imagine him beside you this week, offering you the courage to let your buried truths rise to the surface without flinching.
Meanwhile, Khonsu, the moon god and healer, stands quietly nearby, casting a softer, more forgiving light on the path. As the god of liminal spaces, Khonsu understands that we must be allowed to move through our darkness at our own pace. His presence is not demanding or harsh; he reminds us that darkness has its own rhythms, its own gentle cycles of revelation. Under his watchful gaze, we can let ourselves be vulnerable, knowing that healing begins not with fixing, but with accepting what is.
Guiding Questions
These questions are not meant to be rushed or answered all at once. Instead, carry them with you, allowing them to unfold over the course of the week. Approach them with patience, as one might sit quietly beside a fire, waiting for the embers to reveal hidden shapes in the dark.
1. What do you keep hidden from yourself? Reflect on any emotions, memories, or aspects of your personality that you tend to avoid. Why do you hide these parts? What part of you are they asking to be seen?
2. How do you perform or disguise parts of yourself? Notice the ways in which you alter or soften your behavior to meet the expectations of others. What would happen if you were fully yourself? Who are you when no one is watching?
3. What recent moment of discomfort or self-doubt stands out to you? Often, these small moments contain traces of our shadow trying to surface. What emotions did you feel, and what were you afraid might be revealed to others—or to yourself?
Let these questions settle in your mind. Shadows do not respond to force; they emerge slowly, on their own terms. The work here is not to push for answers, but to make space for whatever begins to reveal itself.
Ritual: Naming the Shadows
At some point this week, find a quiet night when the moon is thin or veiled in darkness. In this hushed space, light a single candle and sit with it in silence. Picture Thoth standing at your shoulder, the keeper of words, urging you to put down what you usually push aside. Khonsu’s light hovers nearby, a reminder that even in shadow, there is safety and patience.
Take a piece of paper and begin to write down every emotion you’ve suppressed over the past month—anger, resentment, jealousy, shame, fear. Don’t analyze or justify. Just let the words come. Allow these feelings to rise, naming them without judgment, as if you were simply recording the truth of the moment. These are the first stirrings of your shadow, the parts of you that have been waiting to be acknowledged.
When you are finished, hold the paper for a moment. Recognize that these words are part of you, not something foreign or “other.” They have shaped you as much as anything else. Then, with calm intention, bring the paper to the flame and let it burn. Watch as the smoke rises, carrying your words into the air. Imagine that you are releasing these shadows, not to get rid of them, but to give them form and witness.
Take the ashes outside and scatter them into the night. Know that Khonsu is watching, accepting this offering into the vast cycles of darkness and light. Shadows dissolve, change, re-form—they are not destroyed, only transformed.
Reflection:
This first step is deceptively simple, yet it holds profound power. Shadow work does not ask us to destroy what we find within ourselves; it asks us to look without turning away. By naming the shadow, we begin a quiet conversation, a way of saying, “I see you.” Thoth records what we offer, not as something to be judged, but simply as something to be known. Khonsu holds the space for this witnessing, a patient god of transitions who understands that true healing moves slowly, on the currents of acceptance rather than control.
In the coming days, be gentle with yourself. Notice if any new feelings arise, or if old memories begin to surface. The descent into darkness has begun, but it is not a race. Let the quiet rhythm of the moon guide you. Just as she shifts from new to full and back again, so too will your understanding of yourself deepen and evolve. There is no rush. The shadows have been waiting a long time; they can wait a little longer.
Comments