by Anna Laskowska | Jan 12, 2026
I believe this will be one of the most important articles I write—one that contains essential information for anyone immersed in the dark night of the soul, or for those working with me on processing suffering and wounds. Here, I aim to describe the architecture of a wound: how it is constructed, how it protects itself, and what one might expect while dismantling it.
I wish that every awakening human being had this structure engraved within themselves. If only it were that simple—if healing depended solely on memorizing a framework. But it does not. This process does not rely on memorization; it relies on awareness. And awareness is precisely what becomes compromised once a person enters an emotional storm.
When overwhelm sets in, resistance emerges. It attempts to divert us from clarity and from direct contact with what is actually happening internally. This is why healing is never as simple as “knowing better,” even when the structure itself is intellectually understood.
It is within this context that wounds reveal their inner mechanics. Usually, when we are deeply entangled in a pattern, it unfolds in the following way: imagine that within you there is an energetic core. This core has its own protective intelligence (and within it, there are often multiple smaller, interconnected energetic patterns rather than a single, uniform structure). Thoughts are intrinsically connected to it, and the core generates thoughts associated with suffering—this is simply how the system operates.
What I will describe here is an exaggerated profile based on more difficult cases. The intensity and expression of this process vary from person to person, depending on their level of awareness. Still, internally, the same mechanism plays out in everyone—the difference lies in degree. I describe it in an amplified way for the sake of clarity.
Any thought that arises from suffering usually has a defense structure in place as it enters conscious awareness. A thought carrying negative energy often passes through a kind of internal security checkpoint, where it becomes encased in a reinforced protective shell whose sole function is to prevent that energy from being exposed. In the process of healing, before reaching the core of negative energy, this protective structure must first be broken down.
At this point, it is important to clarify the role of thought itself. Not all thought forms are ego-based, and I want to make this very clear. Some individuals in spiritual communities claim to live a thought-free life, as if that were the ultimate goal of enlightenment. What I am convinced of, at this stage of my journey—after surviving an excruciating dark night of the soul—is that we are not meant to eliminate thought altogether. We are meant to free ourselves from intrusive and insistent thoughts that are painful in nature and that keep us bound to destructive dynamics.
These intrusive thoughts are defended by ego structures operating through various defense mechanisms. They are not random; they are structured, patterned, and highly strategic. The ego functions as a protective organizer, employing a range of defenses to prevent exposure of what lies beneath. Below is a non-exhaustive list of commonly recognized ego defense mechanisms.
Ego defense mechanisms
- Denial — refusing to accept reality or facts
- Repression — unconsciously pushing painful thoughts or feelings out of awareness
- Suppression — consciously choosing not to think about something distressing
- Projection — attributing one’s own unacceptable feelings or traits to others
- Rationalization — creating logical explanations to justify uncomfortable behavior or feelings
- Intellectualization — avoiding emotional distress by focusing on facts or logic
- Displacement — redirecting emotions from a threatening target to a safer one
- Reaction formation — behaving in a way opposite to one’s true feelings
- Regression — reverting to behaviors from an earlier developmental stage
- Compartmentalization — separating conflicting thoughts, feelings, or emotions to avoid inner conflict
- Dissociation — disconnecting from thoughts, feelings, or reality under stress
- Avoidance — steering clear of situations, thoughts, or emotions that cause discomfort
- Sublimation — channeling difficult impulses into constructive or creative activities
- Humor — using wit to cope with discomfort without denying reality
- Anticipation — preparing emotionally for future challenges
- Altruism — dealing with stress by helping others
As unconscious material draws closer to awareness, these defenses often intensify. Usually, right before confronting any destructive pattern or energetic core, an individual may resort to verbal tactics or elaborate explanations in order to avoid exposure. The ones I have most commonly encountered in my experience are projection, scapegoating, blame, shaming, externalization, splitting, and moralization. In more severe cases, these defenses appear as an explosive and aggressive constellation, emerging just before one reaches the core of negative energy that needs to be dismantled.
This escalation typically occurs when someone is deeply unconscious and their access to emotions is strained. People often arrive at this point after enduring a great deal of hurt, without having any idea how to process negative emotions. In my opinion, many people struggle with genuine healing precisely because this dimension of our existence is largely ignored and therefore neglected. I myself could hardly believe this when I first became aware of it.
Because conscious access to emotions—due to a lack of understanding and adequate tools—is blocked, negativity becomes internalized. Over time, this can lead to existential depression, anxiety, or other chronic conditions.
The reason is simple: there is no release for the negative energies circulating within one’s being. What often accompanies these defense mechanisms is anger. Once confrontation takes place, a very violent outburst of anger may arise and, depending on the individual, may then transform into resentment—along with other intense emotional states such as sadness, hopelessness, blame, and humiliation, as reflected in David Hawkins’ scale of consciousness.
From what I have experienced, every single wound follows the same architecture. This is how they are constructed. For further clarification, I would compare these energetic cores to living entities—something that wants to survive. This is precisely why they develop such a protective shell.
Each energetic pattern is powerful, as it has the capacity to create a reality that is not benign. It always produces suffering in one form or another. As briefly and clearly as possible, I have described here what I consistently observed while going through the process of dismantling these energies.
Finally, I want to emphasize that these are not illusory concepts. Each energetic pattern creates a distinct paradigm in this world and can be clearly identified and named. That, however, is a subject for another post.
by Anna Laskowska | Jan 12, 2026
From my experience, emotional wounds do not resolve through pressure or force. To dissolve, they require light—understood as an embodied quality of presence expressed through steadiness, attuned attention, emotional regulation, and stability, combined with a direct energetic intervention. This is the quality of work I provide in my sessions. It is within such conditions that what has been pushed away can gradually come into awareness.
During the dark night of the soul, I observed a distinct rhythm to this unfolding. Periods of intense inner purging were often preceded by moments of illumination—brief or longer, but unmistakable states in which pain and suffering temporarily receded or disappeared. These moments were not an escape from the process, but an essential part of it, offering clarity, relief, and a felt promise—a glimpse of the state that emerges after emotional pain is released.
Sometimes this unfolding happens quickly—when an emotional wound lies close to the surface. At other times, it requires time, patience, and repeated contact with the same area of experience. Not because something is “blocked,” but because some wounds are deeply embedded and therefore require time and safety to be released.
In my work, this process unfolds through two essential capacities. The first is a significant ability to hold space for suffering—remaining present, regulated, and steady in the presence of intense emotional and somatic states without attempting to fix, suppress, or redirect them. The second is a natural capacity to channel light, which supports the nervous system and the body in softening, reorganizing, and allowing what has been held to move. This is not symbolic or imagined, but a lived, relational exchange that supports the conditions under which emotional material can safely emerge.
What matters most is the integrity of presence. When the body feels held—both emotionally and energetically—it begins to reveal what it has carried, in its own time and in its own way.
by Anna Laskowska | Jan 12, 2026
During deep inner processes, particularly in what is often referred to as a dark night of the soul, I began to notice recurring patterns in the nature of emotional wounds and the ways in which they reveal themselves.
Each of us carries emotional wounds within us—some closer to the surface and easily accessible to awareness, others pushed deep inside over time. These wounds do not disappear on their own.
Each wound can remain dormant within the body until the conditions for its emergence are met, resurfacing either by recreating its corresponding scenario or by being reactivated when that scenario is encountered again.
These emotional wounds, often held as energetic imprints within the body, do not remain contained. They project outward and quietly shape the emotional and physical reality we experience as painful, destabilizing, or confusing.
At times, an emotional wound becomes activated within a relationship, often through an abrupt rupture, a sudden loss, or other relational dynamics that destabilize a person’s sense of safety and connection.
Often, we encounter another person whose sensitivity or personal history unknowingly resonates with our own unresolved emotional material. In such moments—particularly during or after a breakup—what was previously invisible becomes felt: a reaction arises, an emotion surfaces, tension appears in the body. This does not happen because someone is “breaking our heart,” but because two compatible layers of lived emotional experience come into contact and are activated through interaction.
Although similar in nature, these wounds may express themselves very differently: one person may cling to what initially felt like an intense bond, while the other instinctively withdraws. This dynamic is often described in spiritual discourse under the concept of twin flames. In psychological frameworks, similar patterns are understood through attachment dynamics and trauma bonding.
There are also situations in which a person has had little access to feeling for a long time. Many people become highly skilled at distracting themselves from their emotional life. Relationships, in particular, can unconsciously function as a form of distraction or emotional numbing, often without either person realizing it.
As a result, emotions are suppressed over time. The mind may disengage, but the body quietly keeps the record, and emotional responses become flattened. In such cases, the process does not begin with “solving a problem,” but with restoring the capacity to feel what has been repeatedly suppressed.
Whether a person chooses to undo this numbing process or remain within it depends on their free will, individual path, and stage of awareness.
by Anna Laskowska | Jan 11, 2026
In this context, I use the word grace to describe cultivated behaviors and attitudes—the ways we learn to act, respond, and present ourselves in the world.
When I was younger, I believed that collecting certain attitudes and replicating noble behaviors would be enough to create a happy life. I thought that if I imitated specific reactions and kept my surroundings neat and organized, it would somehow propel me forward into the life I dreamed of.
There was nothing inherently wrong with the way I was trying to live. I valued order, organization, and what I understood as good attitudes and proper behavior. Yet even as I did my best to uphold them, my inner world grew increasingly turbulent, and outside circumstances began to arise that disrupted, stalled, or undermined what I was working to maintain.
Very soon, situations were no longer just external events; they became highly charged emotional experiences that shook me to my core. What also became evident was that these intense emotional surges interfered with my cognitive functioning and, at times, seemed to take over my life in very strange ways.
At first, it was difficult to manage the expectations of everyday, physical life while simultaneously trying to navigate something so powerful and deeply painful. It felt as though I had been abruptly awakened into an emotional realm I did not understand. Those years were hard to manage. At the time, I did not know how to help myself, so I carried everything inside me as best as I could, waiting for the violent sensations to subside—only for them to resurface again and again. In hindsight, it is now very clear to me what was truly happening.
In the past, whenever I felt overly stimulated, it was mostly just me, alone, trying to make sense of life as a whole. Today, I understand why certain stretches of time were preparing me for a prolonged period of facing intense, emotionally charged sensations that occupied my entire body. I spent years in arduous labor, confronting energetic patterns that disrupted the refined behaviors and attitudes I was so determined to uphold.
I eventually realized that building a good, peaceful, and meaningful life had to be done from the inside out. Although approaching it intellectually—forming concepts and trying to live by them—was not a mistake, it was never sufficient on its own. Still, it was a necessary step.
As I went deeper into inner work, it became clear that graceful actions alone were not enough; they needed to be infused with inner presence, so that a life can rest on and be sustained by a stable foundation.
