Into the Dark We Go
Lantern in hand
We all have a portal to our darkness. It could be behind a barricaded door, boarded window, or a false wall.
Whatever barrier we’ve placed, it’s a thing we’re careful not to disturb because who in their right mind would want to confront their darkness?
That place has all the things that hurt, and the version of us that lingers there is no one we want to be.
But on the path of spiritual growth, there comes a point where evasion of this space halts the progress. Because to be one who flows means doing so not only with the preferable light side of ourselves, but the dark as well.
Reintegrating the dark is where I’ve made plenty of mistakes, and I’m willing to bet others have too.
I’ve stormed in there intent on conquering the land only to be beaten down, thrown out, or worse… trapped and forced to become the dark version of myself that lives there. That usually manifests as a wicked cynicism, escapist habits, and a numbing depression.
So after all the hard work it takes to escape the dark, the last thing you’d think to do is go back. Well, what I’ve discovered is that we never really leave our darkness behind. We leave it on pause.
It lies in wait for the right trigger to cast that door open, and before we know it, we’re getting sliced by the deep-sharp dark we thought we left behind.
The key is to get to it before some trigger does and integrate it before it takes control again. By the way, when I say “integrate”, I mean to be at peace with it, which starts with understanding. This means journeying into our unsavory bits, looking to understand instead of casting judgment.
But we can’t stroll into the dark empty-handed, or we’ll be overtaken by it. We need a tool to help us. No, it’s not a sword or weapon of any kind.
What we need is the initiator of understanding — the lantern of compassion. I know it’s a cute little metaphor that’s easy to dismiss. But this is no ordinary lantern.
It’s the revealer of truth, dissolver of illusion, and healer of wounds, making it the perfect tool for the inner excavation of our darker parts.
With this lantern of compassionate curiosity in hand, we can get face-to-face with inner demons and ask, “Why? Why do you exist within me? Why do you hurt?”
In the glow of our compassion, a discussion begins. If we listen deep, then the dark stops fighting back and becomes a far less scary thing, as all things do once they’re understood. Yet, the dark is a place to visit for insight just as much as the light, but it’s no place to stay.
So we leave with lantern in hand to refill it at our center. A spot within that’s not light or dark, but between. A liminal place of peace that doesn’t color experiences in the shades of itself because there is no tint to our center. It’s clear.
The dark can be a mystery filled with muffled screams behind the locked door we try to ignore. It can also be a ground for growth. If you’re at a point in life where you must explore the dark, take the lantern of your compassionate nature with you or you may get lost.