My Shamanic Journey into the Lower World and the Release of Ancient Sorrows
- Solarys
- Apr 8
- 7 min read
There are days when the veils between worlds thin, when life feels less like routine and more like revelation. This morning was one of those days.
Before I share my personal journey with you, let’s pause for a moment and open the doorway to understanding the sacred art of shamanic journeying.
A Gentle Guide to Shamanic Journeying
For thousands of years, across continents and cultures, shamans have walked between worlds — journeying into the unseen realms to gather wisdom, receive healing, and retrieve lost fragments of the soul. From the dense jungles of the Amazon to the steppes of Mongolia, to the mountain temples of the Andes and beyond, shamanic journeying is a universal human practice.
At its heart, it is a form of conscious dreaming. Through rhythmic drumming, rattles, and guided intention, the shaman (or journeyer) enters an altered state of consciousness — traveling to what is called the lower, middle, or upper world. These realms are not physical places but living landscapes of energy and memory, where spirit guides, ancestors, power animals, and lost soul parts dwell. The Lower World, in particular, is often seen as the realm of the subconscious, the roots of the soul, and the deep well of ancestral wisdom. It is a place of grounding, shadow healing, and soul retrieval.
Today, many healers and seekers like myself practice modern adaptations of this ancient tradition — not as cultural appropriation, but as a way of remembering our shared human connection to Spirit, Nature, and the soul’s wholeness. Shamanic journeying is especially profound for healing the inner child, as it allows us to meet the wounded parts of ourselves and bring them back into the embrace of love and light.
And so, with reverence for this ancient path, I stepped into my own journey today — a deeply personal pilgrimage through the roots of my soul.
My Journey Begins: A Morning of Quiet Reverence
I found myself on my balcony, seated comfortably with a warm cup of cacao in my hands — my heart open, my spirit receptive. The soft morning light kissed my skin as I prepared for a free webinar offered by the Four Winds Society on the sacred practice of shamanic journeying. I had felt called to this moment long before it arrived. Perhaps it was no coincidence — it never is in the language of Spirit.
In truth, shamanism has always lived in my bones. I remember feeling it deeply during my Temazcal ceremony in Cabo San Lucas, where the ancient ways stirred something primal and familiar within me. Since then, I had been drawn irresistibly to the sound of shamanic drums, from the fierce rhythms of the Vikings to the deep pulses of Indigenous cultures across the earth. Not long after that journey, I purchased my first shamanic drum — adorned, beautifully, with the image of the hummingbird.
And so, as the medicine woman opened the ceremony today, calling in the four great spirits to protect and guide our sacred space, my heart swelled with a quiet knowing. She called forth the Serpent of the South, the Jaguar of the West, the Royal Hummingbird of the North, and the Eagle of the East. Hearing the name of the Hummingbird spirit invoked in the sacred directions felt like a homecoming.
I thought of the hummingbirds who began visiting my home after my father’s passing, as if to anchor their medicine into my life. Their daily visits have since become gentle reminders to sip only from the sweet nectar of life. In that moment, I saw the threads weaving together — from lifetimes past to this very breath.
I must have walked this path before. As a healer, a medicine woman, a shaman.
The Descent Into the Lower World
Guided into a beautiful meadow, I imagined my bare feet pressing into the moist earth, feeling the dew-kissed grass beneath me. Before me stood a grand, ancient Tree of Knowledge — its roots stretching deep into the belly of the Earth, its branches soaring into the heavens. The tree beckoned my light body into its trunk, inviting me to descend into the lower world through its living portal. Trusting its wisdom, I entered.
With my light body embraced by the tree, I followed its roots downward, into the depths of the lower world. There, a cleansing stream awaited me. I stepped into its waters, allowing it to wash away all that could not journey with me. Pure, unburdened, I continued deeper into the earth.
I arrived at my sacred garden — wildflowers and herbs blossomed on one side, a lush forest on the other, and a sunlit meadow stretched ahead. Beyond the meadow, a rocky mountain stood, its face carved with three ancient doors. My heart quickened. These were the gateways to my past lives. With my loyal Hummingbird spirit companion beside me, I approached the first door on the left.
Past Life One: The Orphan Queen
I was a poor, orphaned young girl, starving and alone. Somehow, through sheer resilience, I rose to power — a queen, or perhaps a Victorian noblewoman in an era of grand castles and fragile kingdoms. But triumph was short-lived.
I saw my castle engulfed in flames. "Invasion," the word thundered in my mind. Captured, I was thrown into a cold, lonely prison cell, left to die with resentment burning in my chest. Yet, as I witnessed this ending, I visualized myself beside my past dying body. With deep compassion, I whispered: It’s okay. It’s all forgiven. It’s time to return home.
A release washed over me. I felt the heavy burden of resentment dissolve, as if centuries of sorrow had been set free.
Past Life Two: The Egyptian Sun Priestess
Through the second door, golden sands and temple walls awaited me.
I was a high priestess of Egypt, trained to work with a sacred sundial to guide the Pharaoh’s rituals. I stood as a daughter of Ra, illuminating the path between cosmic time and earthly order.
But beneath the sanctity of my role, my heart harbored sorrow. I had fallen deeply in love, yet the weight of my sacred duties forbade this union. I saw my final moments, my beloved holding my hand as I drifted into the beyond. Again, my soul self appeared beside the dying priestess, offering her the balm of release: You are free. The love you sought is eternal. Come home, beloved one. Tears welled in my waking eyes as I felt the ancient ache dissolve into the sands of time.
Past Life Three: The Visionary of Ancient China
At the third door, I saw myself as a remarkable young woman, ahead of her time. I was a scholar, an archer, a musician — a well-rounded, fiercely intelligent soul.
I stood beside the king or a great general, discussing strategies of war and visions of building a better future. Yet, no man of that era could match my spirit or honor my depth. I aged gracefully, founding a school for girls to pass on my wisdom.
I saw my final breath taken in the presence of my devoted students, surrounded by sisterhood, but absent of romantic love. The belief had rooted itself deep within me: I am too strong, too intelligent, too much to be loved. Once more, I appeared beside my dying self, gently cradling her fading light: You were never too much. You were always enough. Return home, dear one. A profound exhale escaped my lips. Layers of ancient loneliness peeled away.
Integration and Return
As the final door sealed itself back into stone, I returned to my sacred garden. The stream of cleansing water welcomed me once again, carrying me gently back into the hollow of the great tree. Emerging into the meadow of the upper world, I bowed deeply in reverence, gratitude overflowing from my heart.
The journey had ended, but my integration had just begun.
Reflections from the Soul: Integration of My Three Past Lives
As I sit with the revelations of this journey, a soft warmth spreads through my heart. There is a profound completion unfolding within me, as though ancient echoes have found their resting place.
From Ancient Egypt, I carry divine timing, solar wisdom, and the courage to love beyond limitation.
From Ancient China, I carry fierce intelligence, visionary leadership, and the flame of feminine empowerment.
From the Victorian era, I carry resilience, sovereignty, and the triumph of rising from the ashes.
And woven through them all, the hummingbird spirit hums:
"Beloved bridge between worlds, drink only from the sweet nectar of life."
Their daily presence in my garden is no accident. They are living affirmations of my healing, gentle guardians of my remembrance.
Tonight, by candlelight, I will perform the fire ceremony. I will burn away old contracts of "not enough," fears of loneliness, and the shackles of unworthiness. I will return them to the universe for transmutation, knowing fully: I am the bridge between worlds. I am the gardener and the garden alike.
A Gentle Invitation: The Medicine of Shamanic Journeying
Dear reader, if you feel a stir within your heart reading my story, know this: the path of shamanic journeying is open to you too. For thousands of years, shamanic cultures across the globe — from the Andes to Siberia, Mongolia to the Amazon — have journeyed beyond the physical to access healing, guidance, and soul retrieval.
In modern times, people like you and me are remembering this sacred tool. You don’t need to be initiated into a tribe to experience its profound medicine. Guided visualizations, drumming tracks, or ceremonies like the one I attended today can open the doorways to your subconscious and soul memory. It is a practice of deep trust.
When you journey, you may see vivid visions or receive soft whispers. You may feel subtle emotions or waves of knowing. Whatever arises, I lovingly urge you: do not doubt it. Let go of the need to “make sense” of it in the moment. Spirit speaks in symbols, sensations, and fragments of truth that the mind may not grasp at first. Trust what comes through.
Later, like me, you may feel called to explore and validate your visions. Research history. Ask questions. Use tools like AI to dig into the timelines, cultures, and symbols you saw — not to discredit your experience, but to deepen it.
Remember: your soul is wiser than logic alone.
Do not overthink. Do not fear. Your imagination is the doorway to your soul’s memory.
Trust it.
Let your inner child play in the garden of your subconscious. Let your soul guide you through the sacred doors. Let the hummingbird of your heart lead you to the sweetest nectar of life. And perhaps, like me, you will emerge from the journey not just carrying the medicine of the past — but becoming the living garden itself.
From my heart to yours, with the wings of the hummingbird guiding me always,
Solarys 🌸
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