What if the Light Isn't the Goal?

Discover how inviting the darkness this solstice can help you grieve and heal.

Darkness as Teacher

Darkness is often shunned in our society. It’s associated with sadness, anger, despair, and hopelessness—a heavy place to escape.

And if we’ve lived through loss or trauma, those associations feel true. Darkness has hurt us. It felt unsafe.

Society has suggested that the only way out is up—toward light, clarity, and positivity. But what if the dark wasn’t a punishment to escape, but a teacher to listen to? What if we welcomed the discomfort, the pause, the uncertainty—as invitations to turn inward and to heal?

Healing in a new way would become possible and transformative.

Winter Solstice: A Season of Slowing

December 21st marks the Winter Solstice—the darkest day of the year. We feel this shift not just outside, but inside. When we look around, our mornings are darker and slower as the sun slowly nudges its way up. In the evening, the light wanes and we retreat inside for early dinner and cozy activities. Nature models what our bodies already know: the dark season is not for striving, but for integrating, restoring, and slowing. 

And yet—society does the opposite.

As nature turns inward, we crank the pace up. We hurry to holiday activities, we close out year end to-dos, we socialize even when we don’t want to. We glorify productivity while our bodies whisper, enough.

The exhaustion gets real, and the urge to rest becomes bigger. 

Even solstice celebrations often focus on “welcoming back the light,” as if darkness itself has no purpose other than to be “endured.” 

But what if the darkness is the point?

Our Obsession with “Toxic Positivity"

We’ve been conditioned to chase light as a mirror of positivity. Subtle platitudes like: “look on the bright side” and “find the silver lining” imply that light is good and darkness is bad. Even in grief, we’re told that healing means “moving forward” or “finding meaning” as if grief is something bad that is to be “endured.” 

This relentless positivity has a cost—it flattens the full spectrum of human experience into something digestible and safe. It makes authenticity feel like failure. We unconsciously rush to turn our pain into a lesson, our loss into gratitude, our darkness into light—and in doing so, we skip the actual healing.

Real healing is not linear and it doesn’t happen in fluorescent light—it happens in the dim, slow space where we finally stop hurrying and performing—and start feeling.

So instead of asking, how do I get out of the dark? What if we asked, what is the dark trying to show me?

What the Darkness Offers Us 

In many cultures, darkness isn’t feared—it’s sacred. 

Darkness offers us permission to stop running—to rest, to listen, to integrate what the light cannot reach. For those grieving, the dark is often where the truth finally catches up. Where we stop pretending. Where we meet ourselves honestly—tender, tired, and human.

Darkness isn’t failure. It’s the container where grief metabolizes and new growth begins.

What You Can Learn from the Dark

This solstice, what if you didn’t chase the light? What if you didn’t push through, distract, or force gratitude? Instead, what if you allowed the dark to hold you—to teach you?

To reveal what’s ready to be released and to remind you that slowing down, saying no, or stepping back isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Honor the dark as sacred, not something to rush out of. It’s not the opposite of light—it’s part of it.

"Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light." -Madeleine L'Engle

Take This Season Inward

Take this season to turn inward. Explore our free resources created to help you explore what the dark is teaching you. The Healing Pathway is a reflective tool for grievers

🔗 Explore the Healing Pathway and more.