The Darkness Doesn't Scare Me. Those Who Deny It Do.

Oct 11

4 min read

Recently, I went in for a Reiki and energy healing session. During our time together, the practitioner told me something I had never heard before.

She said I had grown a new root chakra.

Now, I have been on this spiritual journey long enough to know that sometimes things come up that make you stop and think. This was certainly one of them.

As we continued talking, the conversation shifted to my ability to move between the light and the dark with ease.

I told her something that I have come to understand through my own healing journey.

The darkness doesn't scare me nearly as much as the people who believe they are nothing but light and love.

Let that sink in for a moment.

We live in a spiritual world where everyone seems to be chasing the light.

Love and light.

Positive vibrations.

High frequencies.

Good energy only.

But what about the darkness?

What about the anger, jealousy, shame, resentment, fear, and pain that live within us?

Are we supposed to pretend those parts don't exist?

I believe every single one of us carries both light and darkness within our souls. How could we possibly understand one without experiencing the other?

Without darkness, how would we recognize the light?

Without pain, how would we understand healing?

Without fear, how would we discover courage?

And without acknowledging our shadows, how could we ever truly know ourselves?

Here is where my perspective may make some people uncomfortable.

I believe those who insist they are 100% light and love are often the ones most afraid to look into their own darkness.

Because looking into the shadows requires something far more difficult than surrounding yourself with positive affirmations and beautiful spiritual words.

It requires honesty.

It requires sitting with the parts of yourself you would rather forget. The thoughts you are ashamed of. The mistakes you have made. The people you have hurt. The anger you have buried. The wounds you have carried for decades.

It requires looking at yourself without excuses, without blame, and without the carefully constructed image of who you want the world to believe you are.

And that, my friends, is where the real work begins.

I know because I have been there.

I have walked into some incredibly dark places within my own soul. Places filled with childhood trauma, shame, guilt, anger, grief, and memories I spent much of my life trying to outrun.

There were times I didn't particularly like the woman staring back at me.

But I stayed.

I listened.

I asked questions.

And slowly, I began bringing those buried pieces of myself into the light.

Not to erase them.

Not to pretend they never existed.

But to understand them.

Because you cannot heal what you refuse to acknowledge.

I no longer believe darkness is something we should automatically fear. Sometimes it is simply the place where the parts of ourselves that need the most love have been waiting to be found.

And perhaps that is why I can walk between the light and the dark without the fear I once carried.

I have learned that my light doesn't disappear simply because I enter a dark place.

In fact, I believe it is through facing my own darkness that I have come to understand just how strong my light truly is.

There is darkness in this world. There is cruelty, hatred, suffering, and pain. I am not naive enough to believe otherwise.

But I also believe there is extraordinary love, compassion, beauty, and goodness.

Both exist.

And pretending one doesn't exist will never make it disappear.

What matters is how we choose to approach them.

Can we acknowledge our anger without allowing it to consume us?

Can we recognize our capacity to hurt others while choosing compassion?

Can we stand in the darkest places of our souls and still believe there is light within us?

I believe we can.

And maybe that is what true spiritual growth looks like.

Not becoming a person who is nothing but light.

But becoming someone who is no longer afraid of their own shadows.

Someone who can acknowledge the darkness without surrendering to it.

Someone who understands that their light is not fragile. It doesn't need to be protected by denial, spiritual perfection, or pretending everything is beautiful.

True light doesn't require the absence of darkness.

It requires the courage to shine within it.

And perhaps the greatest healing of all comes when we stop trying to separate the two and finally accept the whole of who we are.

The beautiful parts.

The broken parts.

The loving parts.

And yes, even the parts we wish didn't exist.

Because all of them have something to teach us.

And all of them deserve to be seen.

So I leave you with this question:

Are you truly living in your light, or are you using the light to avoid what is waiting for you in the shadows?

With love and light — and a healthy respect for the darkness,