When we first wake up to who we are, many of us go on a high — and we stay there for a while. Everything becomes about light and love, peace and goodness. That is beautiful, yes, but it is not the whole of reality. Nothing on earth exists in light alone. As above, so below is not just a mystical saying — it is a reminder of duality, of balance. Where there is darkness, there shall be light. But friends, it is also true that where there is light, there shall be darkness.

None of us became beings of love and light without first enduring the traumas, prisons, and wounds that shaped us. And as I move deeper into the spiritual, metaphysical, and bruja community, I am struck by how many people believe it must be one or the other — either light or dark. Yet every major philosophical, theological, and metaphysical principle is based on balance. It is the one who can acknowledge both who comes closest to true enlightenment.

When I began my spiritual awakening, I did not cut out friends or habits simply because they weren’t on my path. I cut them out because they contributed to my imbalance. Old patterns that kept me stuck in chaos, shame, and survival had to be released. The darkness has been my greatest teacher, because it forced me to examine the hardest parts of my life with love and compassion. That is where I found the light.

I could revisit myself as a child at age eight and comfort the girl who lost her grandparents. I could forgive my parents by re-examining the pain that made me resent them. And even now, though I walk in light, I am reminded daily of the patterns that shaped me. Old ways die hard, and they are easier than this new path. But I acknowledge both. And in acknowledging both, I can see the good in those I once judged as bad, and the shadow in those I once saw only as good.

This is the problem with many religious or spiritual groups — whether covens, churches, or even cults (yes, I said it with a laugh) — they fall into imbalance. Rules are made “for the greater good,” but often darkness is treated as something to be hidden, ignored, or denied. That is when darkness becomes “occult,” literally meaning hidden. But hiding the dark breeds shame, and in shame lies guilt, and in guilt lie lies. The awakened path asks us to face both openly. To admit our mistakes, to say: yes, I have fallen, and still I rise.

We are not here to be perfect. We are here to learn. And through our learning, we teach. Through our mistakes, we model resilience. We tell each other: it’s okay to fuck up. It’s even okay to fuck up royally. Because every stumble is a step on the path toward balance.

Lessons from the Deep

Think of the ocean. For centuries, scientists did not know what existed in the deepest dark — and yet life was there all along. Fish, coral, whole ecosystems thrived in places no light reached. They did not cease to exist because we could not perceive them. The dark dwellers were never “less” than those who swam in the light of the surface. In fact, they are crucial to the ocean’s balance.

Now think of the lobster. A bottom dweller, often called the “cockroach of the sea.” And yet when brought to the surface, it becomes a delicacy, a luxury, a prize. Its meat is tender and rich, valued precisely because it has survived and grown in the depths. Lobsters can live over a hundred years, as long as they continue to shed and renew their exoskeleton. Here lies another lesson in duality: what is dismissed as lowly becomes exalted; what is hidden in the depths becomes treasure when revealed.

So too with us. We are all born surface dwellers. In our struggles, we sink to the bottom. In our awakening, we rise again, transformed, carrying the depth with us. Like the lobster, our very survival and renewal make us a prize — not because we stayed in the light, but because we lived in the dark and still grew.

Never forget: we all were sea roaches once.