Many spiritual teachings encourage us to raise our vibration by staying positive and avoiding negative emotions. But true spiritual growth isn’t about suppressing difficult feelings—it’s about embracing them with awareness and compassion. In this article, we explore how the pursuit of constant positivity and high vibrations can become a form of spiritual bypassing, and why wholeness, not perfection, is the real path to lasting inner transformation.
“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”
— Carl Jung
Have you ever noticed how uncomfortable we are with life’s darker moments? We scroll past stories of tragedy because they’re too upsetting. We change the subject when conversations become too heavy. We tell ourselves to “stay positive” whenever fear, grief, or anger begins to surface, as though acknowledging these emotions might somehow make them grow stronger.
Yet, I’ve always found that fascinating because I’ve never been particularly afraid of exploring life’s darker corners. At Disney parks, I’m just as drawn to the Haunted Mansion and the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror as I am to the fairy tales and castles. I’ve spent countless hours immersed in true crime stories and murder mysteries, and I don’t shy away from witnessing another person’s grief or suffering.
To me, acknowledging the darker aspects of life has never diminished its beauty—it has made it feel more complete.
That doesn’t mean I dwell on negativity. Like most people, I naturally gravitate toward hope, joy, and optimism. But I’ve never believed that a meaningful life is built by pretending pain doesn’t exist. Life has always struck me as a tapestry woven from both light and shadow, triumph and heartbreak, certainty and loss. And yes, high vibrations and lower vibrations.
Over the years, however, I’ve realized that many people find it difficult to engage with anything that feels emotionally heavy. I have family members and friends who avoid watching the news because stories about natural disasters or humanitarian crises leave them feeling overwhelmed.
Others would rather not visit a seriously ill relative because they fear it will make them depressed. Some quickly steer conversations away from uncomfortable topics altogether. It’s as though looking directly at suffering might somehow invite more of it into their lives.
That instinct is deeply human. None of us enjoys pain, and there’s nothing wrong with seeking joy and hope. But I’ve often wondered whether our growing discomfort with the full spectrum of human emotion has quietly shaped the way we approach spirituality as well.
In a world that encourages us to chase “high vibrations” and avoid anything deemed “negative,” could our greatest growth lie not in escaping the shadows, but in learning how to walk through them?
The Rise of “High Vibrations” Spirituality
Over the past decade, few ideas have gained as much popularity in the spiritual and self-help world as the concept of “raising your vibration” and pursuing high vibrations. From social media reels to bestselling books and manifestation podcasts, we’re constantly encouraged to cultivate high-vibrational thoughts, relationships, and habits to attract greater happiness, abundance, and success.
At its core, I don’t think there’s nothing inherently wrong with this message. Many spiritual traditions have long emphasized qualities such as love, compassion, gratitude, and forgiveness as pathways to inner peace.
Similarly, research in positive psychology, pioneered by psychologist Martin Seligman, has found that practices like gratitude and kindness can improve well-being and resilience. While these findings don’t confirm the metaphysical concept of “vibrations,” they do highlight the profound impact our mindset can have on our lives.
The problem arises when a rich spiritual philosophy is reduced to a simple formula. Somewhere along the way, “raising your vibration” became synonymous with feeling good all the time. Joy, gratitude, and excitement were labeled “high vibration,” while emotions such as fear, anger, grief, and sadness were seen as “low vibration” states to avoid or eliminate.
This oversimplification has been amplified by social media, where complex teachings are often condensed into catchy soundbites like Protect your energy, Avoid low-vibrational people, or Choose positivity. While well-intentioned, these messages can leave us believing that difficult emotions are signs of spiritual failure rather than a natural, and often necessary, part of the human experience.
Perhaps spirituality was never meant to help us escape uncomfortable emotions, but to transform the way we relate to them.
When Positivity Becomes a Mask: The Hidden Cost of Chasing High Vibrations
If there’s one trend in modern spirituality that leaves me feeling uneasy, it’s the relentless emphasis on maintaining “high vibrations.” Spend enough time following spiritual influencers or manifestation gurus, and you’ll inevitably hear some version of the same advice: stay positive, protect your energy, avoid negative people, and don’t dwell on unpleasant emotions if you want to manifest the life of your dreams.
I understand the intention behind these messages. They encourage hope, optimism, and personal responsibility—all worthwhile qualities. But I can’t help feeling that this narrative has become oversimplified, and at times, even misleading.
It suggests that if you’re feeling anxious, grieving a loss, wrestling with self-doubt, or simply having a difficult day, you’ve somehow fallen out of alignment or lowered your vibration. To me, that’s not only unrealistic—it can also be deeply discouraging.
Psychologist Susan David has spent years studying what she calls emotional agility. Her research suggests that psychological well-being doesn’t come from suppressing difficult emotions or replacing them with positive ones. Rather, it comes from acknowledging our emotions, understanding what they’re trying to communicate, and responding to them with wisdom instead of avoidance.
Ironically, the pursuit of constant positivity can become another form of perfectionism. Instead of striving to have the perfect body, career, or relationship, we’re now expected to maintain the perfect emotional state. We smile through heartbreak, suppress our anger, and hide our fears because we’re worried they’ll somehow block our manifestations or attract more negativity into our lives.
But emotions don’t disappear simply because we refuse to acknowledge them. Like a beach ball held underwater, they require constant effort to keep submerged and eventually, they resurface, often with even greater force.
Perhaps true spirituality isn’t about mastering the art of feeling good all the time. Perhaps it’s about finding the courage to be honest about what we’re really feeling.
Every Emotion Has Wisdom
If chasing high vibrations encourages us to escape uncomfortable emotions, then perhaps the real invitation is to become curious about them instead. What if our emotions aren’t obstacles to our spiritual growth, but guides pointing us toward it?
This is a recurring theme in the teachings of Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön. Rather than encouraging us to avoid fear, uncertainty, or heartbreak, she invites us to lean into these experiences with openness and compassion.
As she wisely wrote, “Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.” Instead of viewing painful emotions as signs that something has gone wrong, she encourages us to see them as opportunities to cultivate greater awareness, resilience, and kindness toward ourselves.
Every emotion has something valuable to teach us. Fear may be alerting us to a genuine threat or exposing a limiting belief that’s ready to be challenged. Anger can reveal a boundary that has been crossed or a value that has been compromised.
Grief reminds us of the depth of our love, while jealousy often shines a light on an unfulfilled desire or untapped potential. Even anxiety, though deeply uncomfortable, can reveal where we feel uncertain, unsupported, or disconnected from ourselves.
Unfortunately, we’re rarely taught to listen to our emotions. Instead, we’re encouraged to suppress them, distract ourselves from them, or label them as “negative.” Yet emotions are neither good nor bad—they’re information. Like the dashboard lights in a car, they don’t exist to punish us but to signal that something deserves our attention.
When we stop treating difficult emotions as enemies and start approaching them with curiosity, something remarkable happens. They lose much of their power to control us. Rather than becoming obstacles on our spiritual path, they become trusted guides, leading us toward greater self-awareness, compassion, and ultimately, wholeness.
What Carl Jung Called the Shadow
Long before phrases like high vibrations and positive energy entered the spiritual lexicon, Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung was exploring a very different path to personal transformation.
He believed that each of us carries a shadow—the parts of ourselves we’ve rejected, denied, or hidden because they feel unacceptable. These aren’t necessarily dark or destructive qualities. The shadow can also contain our vulnerability, creativity, ambition, sensitivity, and even our joy if we’ve learned to suppress them to gain acceptance.
Jung’s insight was both simple and profound: what we refuse to acknowledge doesn’t disappear. Instead, it continues to influence our thoughts, behaviours, and relationships from beneath the surface. As he famously wrote, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”
Shadow work isn’t about dwelling on negativity or endlessly analysing our wounds. Rather, it’s the practice of bringing unconscious patterns into the light of awareness so they no longer control us. We begin to notice the fears that drive our decisions, the beliefs that keep us stuck, and the emotional triggers that quietly shape our reactions. With awareness comes choice.
In many ways, this stands in stark contrast to the pursuit of constant positivity. While one path encourages us to rise above uncomfortable emotions, the other invites us to turn toward them with curiosity and compassion. Jung understood that healing doesn’t come from pretending the shadow doesn’t exist. It comes from integrating every part of ourselves into a more authentic whole.
Perhaps the highest expression of spirituality isn’t becoming a person without shadows. It’s becoming someone who is no longer afraid to walk beside them.
What Spiritual Maturity Really Looks Like
If spiritual maturity isn’t about maintaining a constant state of bliss and high vibrations, then what does it actually look like?
Many of us imagine spiritually evolved people as calm, unshakable, and endlessly positive. We assume they rarely experience fear, anger, grief, or self-doubt. But if there’s one lesson that contemplative traditions consistently teach, it’s that enlightenment doesn’t remove our humanity—it transforms our relationship with it.
The late Buddhist monk Thích Nhất Hạnh beautifully captured this idea when he wrote, “No mud, no lotus.” Just as a lotus flower cannot bloom without the mud from which it grows, qualities like compassion, wisdom, and resilience often emerge through life’s greatest challenges rather than in spite of them.
A spiritually mature person still experiences disappointment when plans fall apart, sadness when they lose someone they love, and fear when facing uncertainty. The difference is that they don’t become consumed by these emotions or define themselves by them.
Instead, they meet them with awareness, curiosity, and self-compassion. They understand that emotions are temporary visitors, not permanent identities.
Perhaps the true measure of spiritual growth isn’t how often we feel peaceful, but how gently we respond when peace disappears. It’s found in our willingness to apologise when we’re wrong, remain present in difficult conversations, set healthy boundaries without resentment, and extend compassion to ourselves as readily as we do to others.
Spiritual maturity isn’t about becoming emotionally untouchable. It’s about becoming emotionally honest. And from that honesty comes a deeper kind of peace—one that’s rooted not in perfection, but in the quiet confidence that we can meet whatever life brings with an open heart.
Wholeness Is a Higher Goal Than Happiness
For much of our lives, we’re taught that happiness is the ultimate goal. We pursue the right career, relationship, or spiritual practice in the hope of reaching a state of lasting joy. But happiness, like every emotion, is fleeting. It ebbs and flows with the changing seasons of life.
Wholeness is different. It isn’t about feeling good all the time; it’s about embracing every part of ourselves—the joyful and the grieving, the confident and the uncertain, the courageous and the afraid.
This idea echoes the work of psychiatrist Carl Jung, who believed that healing comes not from eliminating the parts of ourselves we dislike, but from integrating them into a more complete whole. As he famously observed, “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” That journey requires us to stop treating parts of ourselves as enemies and begin seeing them as pieces of a larger puzzle.
Think of an orchestra. A symphony isn’t beautiful because every instrument plays the same note. It’s the interplay of soaring violins, resonant cellos, and deep percussion that creates richness and depth. Our emotional lives are much the same. Joy may provide the melody, but grief, fear, anger, and vulnerability give our lives texture, meaning, and humanity.
Perhaps the highest aim of spirituality isn’t perpetual happiness. It’s becoming so deeply grounded in self-awareness and self-acceptance that we no longer need to reject parts of ourselves to feel complete. From that place of wholeness, happiness ceases to be something we chase—and becomes something we naturally experience.
Practical Ways to Move Beyond the High-Vibration Trap
Breaking free from the high vibrations trap doesn’t mean abandoning optimism or resigning yourself to negativity. It simply means cultivating a more honest and compassionate relationship with your inner world. Here are five practices to help you get started:
1. Name your emotions without judging them.
Instead of telling yourself, I shouldn’t feel this way, simply acknowledge what’s present. “I’m feeling anxious.” “I’m disappointed.” Research shows that labeling our emotions can reduce their intensity, making it easier to respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively.
2. Replace judgment with curiosity.
The next time an uncomfortable emotion arises, ask yourself: What is this feeling trying to tell me? Every emotion carries valuable information, and approaching it with curiosity creates space for insight instead of resistance.
3. Remember that healing isn’t linear.
Progress isn’t measured by how rarely you experience fear, sadness, or self-doubt. It’s measured by how differently you relate to those emotions. Revisiting old wounds doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it often means you’re healing at a deeper level.
4. Practice self-compassion.
Psychologist Kristin Neff has found that treating ourselves with the same kindness we’d extend to a close friend fosters greater resilience, emotional well-being, and personal growth. Self-compassion isn’t self-indulgence—it’s the foundation of lasting transformation.
5. Make room for your whole self.
Resist the urge to divide your inner world into “high vibration” and “low vibration.” Every emotion has a place, every experience has something to teach you, and every part of you deserves to be met with awareness rather than judgment. That’s not just emotional health—it’s spiritual maturity.
Perhaps spirituality isn’t about becoming someone who never struggles. Perhaps it’s about becoming someone who no longer needs to run from themselves. Like a tree whose deepest roots allow it to weather every storm, your strength comes not from avoiding life’s challenges but from learning to stand firmly through them.
As the poet Rumi wrote, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” When you embrace your whole self, light and shadow alike, you don’t just become happier. you become freer, wiser, and more fully alive.
All my best on your journey,
Seline
Question for you: What emotion have you been trying to rise above instead of gently allowing yourself to move through?
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