I’m in a dark place, not only as an individual, but I also sense a pervasive darkness within our society, our nation, and the world at large. I’ve navigated similar shadows before. The wisdom of my therapist echoes in my mind: “Recognize your demons, snuggle with them.” This powerful advice resonates deeply, urging me to embrace my emotions fully. It’s about acknowledging the darkness, allowing it to reside without judgment, rather than suppressing it, which only leads to its manifestation in unhealthy behaviors. It’s a reminder to be present with the difficult feelings, to not fight them, but to sit with them, understand them, and allow them to pass through me.

For me, darkness isn’t the end; it’s a spotlight on my core values. When things get difficult, my beliefs accentuate, acting as a compass through the unknown but hauntingly familiar. I treat each dark period as an essential learning curve. It teaches me what I value, what I won’t tolerate, and who I can lean on. Navigating these dark seasons feels like finding my way through a pitch-black room. Even in new surroundings, movement feels instinctual. It’s much like getting back on a bicycle. My soul remembers how to find its balance.
There is a profound self-appreciation that grows in the shadows. I may not be capable of seeing the door or the destination, but I don’t need to. I have enough light within me to navigate the ‘now’ until the ‘next’ appears.
I find my current experience echoed in the words of the 17th-century poet Mizuta Masahide:
‘Barn’s burnt down—now I can see the moon.’
It is a beautiful reminder that there is a light found only when we sit with our grief and pain. By accepting the darkness rather than fighting it, we don’t just survive. We gain a clearer view of the things that truly matter. Is there a ‘moon’ you’ve discovered only after your own barn burnt down? I’d appreciate hearing your story in the comments.








