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Inhabiting Your Darkness
Exploring darkness as the light and the path to personal power
What is the strength of light without the weight of darkness?
What is the appreciation for light without the relevance of darkness?
What makes light, if not darkness?
We have feared, resisted, and misunderstood the idea of darkness,. It has been cast as the antagonist in our story—a force to be avoided, denied, battled, or eradicated. In doing so, we subject ourselves to unnecessary pain and shallow judgments about what we call “darkness.” We view it as inherently evil, as though the night does not cradle the dawn or creation itself does not emerge from the void.
We’ve been led to believe that the path to wholeness, renewal, and prosperity is to hide the dark, suppress its presence, and transcend its supposed limitations. But what, truly, are the limitations of darkness if we never pause to understand its form?
What if darkness is not the absence of light but its genesis? What if it is not the antithesis of progress but the fertile soil from which our deepest growth springs? What if our darkness is the strength of our being? What if it is the key to heightened consciousness, self-mastery, and genius embodiment? What if—the darkness is the light?
One of the challenges we experience as a society that has fueled the decay of our collective morality and enthroned wickedness even amongst the most religious is the avoidance and suppression of our darkness. We are taught to either avoid it, suppress it, or “reject” it. We are led to believe that the presence of our darkness suggests something inherently wrong with us when the opposite is the case. Oh, and how the conversation of divinity and spirituality is communicated as an attempt to strip us off our humanity? For of course, in our humanity we are all “sinners.” At least, that’s what we’ve been led to believe.
We are told what our desires should be and how they must be expressed, without the space to sit into the desires we have, to understand, master, and leverage them through evolved consciousness. We do not see how the very things we attempt to avoid for their negativity are the very things that sponsor our positivity. The darkness in a person’s ego that births despicable arrogance is the same that fuels the boldness needed to take decisive action. The darkness in a person’s supposed sensuality that is labeled as wayward is the energy for creativity, intimacy, and connection. The darkness that is exhibited as evil is the same that popularizes what we refer to as good. The darkness that powers the hero also energizes the villain. It is not different, only varying in degrees based on evolved consciousness. It is darkness when denied that festers into harm but when integrated, it becomes a source of strength. Yet, how often do we pause to ask: What is it about our darkness that frightens us? Is it the chaos we assume it will bring, or the power it reveals that we feel unprepared to wield?
To walk the path of personal evolution and power, we must confront this question—not to tame the darkness but to understand and integrate it. In doing so, we unlock the very essence of our humanity and the fullness of our potential.
The Duality of Existence
Do we call the male evil and the female good because they are opposites? Do we see the night as wicked and the day as pure because they contrast one another? This tendency to assign moral judgments to dualities reflects a deeper misunderstanding of existence itself. It suggests as though we assume that opposites conflict. In reality, they are complementary, each giving the other meaning. Without the night, would the day hold the same brilliance? Without chaos, would we ever seek or value order? Without confusion would we ever know clarity? Without the sun, would we ever know its warmth as opposed to the cold of the rain?
Our existence is shaped by duality—light and dark, good and evil, joy and sorrow. Yet, as a society, we have elevated one side of these pairs while demonizing the other. Light is celebrated as pure and righteous, while darkness is cast as malevolent and corrupt. But to truly understand ourselves and the world, we must recognize that these dual forces are not adversaries. They are partners in this cordial dance of creation, each incomplete without the other—and they both exist within us. It is like the Yin and Yang—opposite, yet interconnected.
Darkness is not the enemy of light; it is its context. It is the contrast that allows light to shine, the depth that gives meaning to the surface. Darkness shows us the contours of our soul, revealing both our limitations and our potential. It is the strength of our being and the weight of our expression. To reject darkness is to reject half of who we are, leaving it to fester and manifest in unintended, often destructive ways.
Isn’t it ironic that the darkness we so despise is what we turn to when the timing feels “right”? We convince ourselves that time changes its nature, that it softens or justifies what we once repressed. But the truth is; darkness doesn’t change. Time only incubates darkness, allowing it to grow unchecked until it finds release on its own terms. This is why people believe others “change.” It is why a woman or man assumes arrogantly that someone else could change for them.
Take, for instance, the man who professes love for his partner yet later rationalizes infidelity with the belief: “It’s simply nature for men to desire variety.” But is it nature—or is it unintegrated darkness? That part of himself, ignored and denied, has gained strength in secrecy, evolving into an agency of its own, separate from his conscious identity. That part of him becomes strengthened that it thinks as him and then we wonder, are all men truly the same? Is this really nature? Really? Is it?
This is the cost of avoidance: the parts of us we reject do not disappear. Instead, they grow in the shadows, asserting themselves in ways we can no longer control. It is like starving our demons till they learn to feed on their own and make us their own slaves. The desires, fears, and instincts we have suppressed rises like a phoenix, disguising itself as nature, beliefs, or “truths” that feel beyond our power to change. Because we do not realize this, darkness becomes evil. In assuming that integration gives it free rein, we are unable to acknowledge its existence, understand its origins, and channel its energy constructively.
Whatever you suppress or reject will rise again at an appropriate time when it’s fed itself well enough to pull down the façade of your creation.
Evil does not exist on its own. It is birthed from good that was never integrated with darkness.
Frail Human?
Exhausting my ideas and contemplative archive on the pages of this essay is an impossible task. However, I would attempt to present different positions on darkness to, help you evolve decidedly, embrace your humanity, and unlock your genius to the end that you are awakened to a more empowered life and vibrationally-charged work.
My next line of thought is on the concept of human frailty. The idea that humanity is inherently frail has been used to justify avoidance, repression, and denial of our darker aspects. We are taught that to be human is to be weak, to err, and to succumb to temptations. Yet this perception of frailty often stems from a refusal to confront the fullness of our nature—the coexistence of light and darkness within us.
We symbolize our humanity with “sin” in religious contexts or fallen nature. But is that what this means? If according to the framework of the Christian religion, God decidedly made “man” in his own image. Isn’t man’s humanity a necessary construct of that form? Was the sin committed by the first man and woman, Adam and Eve based on their acclaimed humanity but was it in fact unintegrated darkness?
Frailty is not in the presence of our flaws or shadows but in our unwillingness to face them. The human condition is not fragile because of its imperfections; it is fragile when those imperfections are ignored, denied, or suppressed. True strength lies in the ability to inhabit our darkness, to acknowledge its place in the construct of our being, and to integrate it into a balanced and authentic expression of self.
Fallen Nature, Flesh, Sin & its Cohorts
What is the fallen nature of man? The context of “flesh”, The meaning of sin, and the form of carnality? These are all terminologies used to describe our darkness. In reality, it is misunderstood, misplaced, and erroneous.
Think of man (or yourself) as a body of spiritual energy —Full in Spirit, Pure in Genius, Aligned to Design, and Conscious. This is the nature of man—heightened consciousness, pure genius, and powerful balance. The ability to be man and made in God’s image suggests the strength to hold duality—humanity and divinity, light and dark, masculine and feminine.
Yet the fall of man was a sin against his nature, a rebellion against his design. His failed understanding of what it meant to be man caused him to operate beneath consciousness—eating a “fruit” that was suggested to him as a one-way ticket to see as himself. He was cornered into slavery and oppression because he couldn’t hold the weight of who he was. He assumed a fallen posture before he even fell. His bias? For the serpent to speak of a fruit as his ticket into wholeness, alignment, and evolved consciousness then he needed that fruit. The only problem? That’s what he already was. It wasn’t the fruit that caused him to fall, he had fallen (at least in his mind) then he ate the fruit for some form of redemption. God’s query was—redemption from what? His immediate response was to hide from the accountability of his actions because he had rejected himself.
This is the fallen nature—a stray away from design, a path taken outside of our alignment. It’s like writing outside the margins of an exam script where it’s written: “Do not write outside the margins.” It is an incomplete and incorrect understanding of the full weight of our person and the strength of our expression.
Sin, in its essence, is not a judgment of morality but a deviation from alignment with our true nature. It is the act of betraying our design, of living in a way that contradicts our highest potential. It is rebellion from our divine blueprint. When we define sin through the narrow lens of societal norms—what is “good” or “bad”—we lose sight of its deeper meaning. How can you tell good from bad if you are unaware of your design? How do we not realize that our versions of what sin is have evolved through time based on what is perceived as the “sin of that time”? We end up moralizing behaviors without understanding their root cause or purpose. In this way, they become tools of shame rather than growth opportunities.
This misinterpretation of sin often leads to corruption—the misappropriation of both our light and darkness. Corruption is not darkness itself but the distortion that arises when we fail to integrate our dual nature. For example, food is good but what happens when you eat so much or so little? Now that is the idea of corruption. Darkness, as a force, is neutral; it is the soil in which growth occurs, the canvas upon which light takes form. Corruption, by contrast, is the misuse of this dynamic, the imbalance that occurs when we reject or suppress one part of ourselves.
Take addiction, for example. Addiction is not inherently evil; it is a way the self attempts to restore balance or escape pain. The act itself is not the problem; the problem lies in the lack of understanding. It is the corruption of something both light and dark. When we reject addiction outright or try to act as though it doesn’t exist and feel shameful in the act, we fail to see it as a symptom of a deeper need or wound thus, reducing our vibration. This reduced vibration affects our energy and engagement with the world around us.
Breaking free from addiction, for example, is not about labeling ourselves as flawed or sinful. It is about embracing the addiction as a clue, seeking to understand what it serves and how it can be transformed. It is this understanding that leads to mastery. Instead of seeing addiction as a failing, we can view it as an invitation to explore our unmet desires and unresolved wounds. Then, we can redirect the energy of addiction toward something more meaningful and vibrationally higher, allowing our darkness to guide us toward wholeness rather than destruction.
The challenge, then, is to rethink our relationship with our darkness—not as forces to be avoided but as teachers who reveal the truth of who we are. The question is not whether we can eliminate these aspects of ourselves but whether we can evolve through them, using them as stepping stones to our highest and weightiest expression.
This is the idea: the same energy that sponsors a shameful addiction is the same that sponsors meaningful work and creativity. It is about how it is used and where it stems from. This is what we must sit into.
[In my upcoming newsletter, I delve into what this means for your brand and business and how to shift using your darkness. Subscribe here.]
The Danger of Self-Rejection
Self-rejection is what we do when we try to separate ourselves from our darkness. It is rejecting parts of ourselves that seem incongruent with our idealized image which in reality is not investigated to define its potency. That is, what we think should be ideal is often more conditioned than it is conscious.
Self-rejection is what we know as inauthenticity. At the core of what it means to be inauthentic, is the act of rejecting aspects of yourself and filling those parts up with what you admire in others. This admiration though is unintentionally and unconsciously skewed to make you adequate. It is borne out of the idea that you are inherently inadequate and unworthy.
Self-rejection or inauthenticity is what happens when we fail to inhabit our darkness but instead choose to integrate the integrated darkness of another. We want to be accepted the way those we admire are when we have not accepted our own selves. We want to emulate other brands when the expression of their brand is a careful arrangement of perfect imperfections; a synergy of their duality—light and dark, masculine and feminine. We admire the darkness in others because of its fluid integration yet condemn our own darkness. The articulation you admire in another is the talkativeness you reject in yourself. The beauty you admire in others is the unacceptance you despise in yourself. The authentic expression you envy in others is the difference you hide in yourself. The influence you admire in others is the desire for power and fame you despise in yourself. All because of the meaning you’ve attached and the consistent lies you’ve learned to tell.
Self-rejection is the quiet betrayal of one’s essence, a denial of the wholeness that makes us human. At its core, self-rejection—or inauthenticity—is the act of disowning parts of ourselves that we perceive as undesirable, weak, or unworthy. These disowned aspects are often replaced with borrowed identities, traits, or values that we admire in others, not because they resonate with us, but because they appear to compensate for our perceived inadequacies.
This unconscious imitation arises from a fundamental belief: that we are inherently incomplete and inherently flawed. Instead of embracing our darkness and seeking to integrate it with our light, we reject it. We choose instead to emulate the curated personas of those we admire. However, what we fail to see is that those we seek to emulate have often achieved their authenticity by integrating their own duality—their light and darkness, their strengths and shadows.
In attempting to mirror another’s brand, we become mere fragments of ourselves, a patchwork of borrowed identities that lack the synergy and coherence of our own truth. We become an excellent yet cheap copy of another, then we wonder why we cannot command the same results. But how can we?
Self-rejection, then, is not just a denial of darkness—it is a denial of the self, a denial of genius, and a denial of meaning. The question we must ask ourselves is this: how can we aspire to be whole, to release who we are at the highest level possible if we persist in living as fragments?
We see the expression of the integrated darkness of others and we admire that. We want to emulate that. Yet, we would not dare face the darkness we fear. We lean into our feelings of uncertainty and unworthiness and then expect to feel certain and worthy. Think of it this way: if you sit into the complexity of the one you admire, would you face their darkness or would you fear it? Would you want to exist within that complexity at all?
The truth is, the path to authenticity (in expression—life, work or relationships), is not in rejecting the self but in reclaiming it—darkness and all. To inhabit our darkness is to reclaim our power, our truth, and our humanity.
Rejection Breeds Blind Spots
Imagine you are driving through a town somewhere in Nigeria, and you choose to ignore the presence of potholes on the road simply because the roads in your own neighborhood are smooth and flawless. What would happen? Sooner or later, you would crash—not because the potholes were dangerous, but because you refused to acknowledge their existence. This is what happens when we reject parts of ourselves: we create blind spots that become stumbling blocks on our journey through life.
Rejection, especially self-rejection, does not erase what we refuse to confront. It simply pushes those aspects into the shadows, beyond our conscious awareness, where they fester and grow unchecked. These disowned parts of ourselves—our unacknowledged fears, desires, insecurities, and even strengths—do not disappear; they merely operate outside our field of vision, influencing our actions and decisions in ways we cannot see or control.
Blind spots are dangerous precisely because they are invisible to us. They cause us to project our disowned traits onto others, seeing in them the very qualities we refuse to face within ourselves. For instance, someone who rejects their own ambition might label others as “greedy” or “overly competitive,” not realizing that they are externalizing their own unacknowledged drive. Similarly, someone who denies their vulnerability might criticize others for being “too emotional” while struggling with their own suppressed need for connection and care. Basically, everyone becomes a large screen for your projections because your self-rejection has created massive blind spots.
This is why we end up spiraling in confusion. It is why we feel clear on the path to take one moment and feel unclear the next. Self-rejection lacks the strength to hold the weight of your fullness. The genius within you would keep crying out, wincing in pain seeking its own expression and strength. This conflict would continually place you in seasons that mirror sitting on a rolling chair—ever moving but never moving forward. It is this same rejection that often serves as a lid to income ceilings. The darkness you refuse to confront and integrate cannot permit you to your next-level.
The key to power is to cease control and instead seek understanding, depth and mastery. It is not to try to add to ourselves but to understand our personal equation, its relevance, its strength and its weakness. It is to see ourselves clearly, to own both our light and shadow, and to navigate life with awareness and authenticity. The question is: how many crashes will we endure before we learn to see the road as it truly is? How many spiraling seasons would you go through till you learn to just be?
Evil, Corruption, and Darkness
Throughout this essay, we’ve touched on these concepts in various ways, but now let’s address them directly. To engage with these ideas fully, it’s important to set aside the instinctive moral judgments that may arise and instead approach them with curiosity. After all, the relationship between darkness, evil, and corruption is often misunderstood—shaped more by societal bias than by true understanding.
Let us examine these questions:
Is darkness inherently evil?
Why not simply focus on the light?
Will exploring darkness lead to moral decay?
Each of these reflects a common fear, yet they misunderstand the essence of darkness.
This is the starting point. Ask yourself; why do I fear darkness? What are my preconceived notions about the concept of darkness? How did I come to my definition of darkness? Start here then continue the essay.
Darkness Is Not Evil
Darkness, as explored earlier, is not inherently evil; it is neutral. It is the context for light, the unseen counterpart that gives light its power. Evil arises not from darkness itself but from the corruption of either darkness or light. For example, greed is not a product of darkness but a distortion of ambition. Hatred is not the essence of darkness but the perversion of love into control or vengeance.
To label darkness as evil is to misunderstand its role in the human psyche. Darkness contains potential—raw, untamed energy that can be destructive or creative, depending on how it is integrated. When left unacknowledged, it festers and becomes the kind of corruption that we fear.
Why Not Focus on the Light?
To focus solely on the light is to deny half of existence. It creates an imbalance that blinds us to the fullness of our humanity. Imagine a tree trying to grow toward the sky without roots plunging into the soil. Light without darkness is superficial—it lacks depth, resilience, and authenticity. True morality comes from understanding both sides of the spectrum, not from avoiding one.
Think about it: how can you just focus on light without an understanding of darkness? It’s like avoiding the deep conversations in a relationship to preserve its strength. Is that strength? Or is it on the verge of breaking? Nothing strong is built in avoidance.
Finally, Does Darkness Lead to Moral Decay?
Only when ignored or suppressed. Whatever we suppress learns to function in isolation and soon operates within its own limitation without you as its guide. You may nurse jealousy in your heart towards someone else and simply ignore or try to bury it. It would only be a matter of time before you act on that jealousy and justify your actions with something unimportant.
When we reject our darkness, it manifests in ways we do not expect. It creates a demon we cannot recognize leaving us to deal with the weight of our choices. It’s like making a deal with the devil until you have to embrace the depths of your being.
In reality, it is the suppression of our darkness that leads to moral decay. Our chosen ignorance of our darkness is what grows into evil. Wickedness exists in the heart of those who claim moral superiority.
Here’s how I put it in one of my notes:
Culled from Faith Ohio’s note on Sin, Grace & Christianity
Darkness like freedom is not a license for decay. It is power to choose responsibly. It is the strength of gods and the weight of geniuses. It is your power—to be, to choose, and to express.
Therefore, it is not darkness itself but the fear of it that leads to decay.
In closing, the journey to inhabit our darkness is not one of indulgence but of wholeness. Evil, corruption, and darkness are not synonymous; they are distinct forces that shape our humanity in complex ways. Think of it this way: the night is dark but it gets corrupted based on how that night-time is used. This corruption becomes the birthing place for evil. So, even though people rob at night—does it make nighttime altogether evil? No, it doesn’t. And, can night be changed to day? Of course not. It is inhabited as part of our seasonal spectrum.
Descend deeper into the recesses of yourself. Face your darkness. Be aware of your shadows. Seek to understand why you hide elements of yourself. Emancipate yourself from the lies you continually tell yourself, others and the world. And instead, embrace your truth. Seek to master it. Choose to live in its awareness, mastering how to wield it for strength.
Wisdom is knowing how to use every chess piece to your advantage. Do not be a slave to your own “self”
Remember, in a world where you can be anything—BE GENIUS!
Faith Ohio.
Hey Genius. Thank you for checking out my essay. I would love to read your thoughts. Leave a comment or send a direct email.
I publish one essay every month exploring themes of self-mastery, transcendence, genius activation, and building a life and work in alignment with your soul’s calling. My goal is to help thinkers do and doers think, one essay at a time—while spreading ideas that matter. While my essays may often seem philosophically nuanced or dense, I also write a weekly newsletter to my community simplifying some of these ideas and contemplations in usable form. Subscribe here.
You can also check out my work at www.faithohio.com to see how I can work with you to transcend your current level of success and activate your weightiest vision. Thank you for being here :)
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