The Light Dilemma: When Darkness Feels Safer, and We Struggle to Trust the Power of Light

Kerry Jehanne-Guadalupe

Trusting the light—especially in the face of darkness—can be one of the greatest challenges we encounter.

When faced with betrayal, prejudice, or injustice, the temptation to lash out, to meet fire with fire, may be strong as it often offers the perception of a certain kind of strength and being in control. We may want to throw a fist instead of shaking a hand, to stomp on someone's ideas rather than sit down with them.

This article explores why the human psyche is often drawn to using darkness to fight darkness and why trusting the light for protection can feel so difficult.

Darkness, in this context, is the impulse to respond to pain, fear, or injustice with destruction rather than transformation—the belief that force, control, or retaliation is the only path to protection and freedom.

Darkness takes many forms—some obvious, others insidious—and carries many meanings, both literal and metaphorical. This article does not examine the array of darkness such as tactics of domination and manipulation, the deliberate suppression of information, extreme violence and cruelty, or the spread of fear, uncertainty, and insecurity. It is not about the subtle ways we betray ourselves, how we can react with control or resentment in relationships, or how darkness is embedded in wars, corruption, and institutions prioritizing power over human dignity. Nor does this article examine the polarity of light and dark or the generative aspects of darkness—the fertile womb that nurtures life, the seed buried in the soil that germinates, or the inner shadow work that leads to liberation and self-renewal.

Instead, my focus here is on why, at any level—personal or global—fighting darkness with darkness can seem like the quickest path to safety, even when it can ultimately deepen suffering.

Even knowing that hatred contracts us, narrows our vision, and blinds us to our interconnectedness, we may still be drawn to it. Even knowing that revenge poisons the mind, tightens the body, and traps us in cycles of suffering, we may still choose it. Even though light can transmute darkness, reveal truth, and dissolve conflict, we may resist it.

Light does not always feel like the right choice, even though it can offer clarity, resilience, resolution, and creation. While light is inherently active—capable of alchemizing pain—it may not seem active enough to keep us safe. It can feel too subtle, too uncertain, to offer real protection. Though choosing the light is not passive optimism—it is an intentional, disciplined practice of choosing clarity, wisdom, and integrity over fear and destruction—it may require us to lean into uncertainty and believe in something beyond immediate force or gratification—and that can feel like a daunting challenge.

Though light is more vast than can be defined, light, in this context, is the force that transforms. It is a conscious choice to meet adversity with clarity, integrity, and creation while trusting in revolution, cultivating patience, and fostering resilience.

In this context, truth refers to an unshakable alignment with higher principles—love, integrity, wisdom, and authenticity—regardless of external circumstances. It is not about factual accuracy, but a deeper, unwavering state of being that reflects the essence of light itself. Truth, in this sense, is the foundation of resilience because it remains intact even when challenged by hardship or opposition. It is the force that allows one to stand firm in honesty rather than succumbing to deceit, to choose kindness over vengeance without feeling diminished, and to trust in patience rather than reacting impulsively to frustration.

There are several psychological, historical, and existential reasons why humans might struggle to trust the light. By understanding these tendencies, we can understand their origins, unravel their hold on us, and discover new paths to power and transformation.

1.    The Cycle of Trauma and Pain

Many who have suffered deeply may instinctively mirror the darkness that wounded them, believing that meeting it on its own terms is the only path to survival or justice. When pain and betrayal have been part of someone’s history, darkness feels familiar. The nervous system may be wired to expect conflict, making trust in light feel naive or even dangerous.

Trauma conditions the nervous system for survival, reinforcing distrust. If past experiences have proven that love, hope, or faith led to disappointment or harm, it may become difficult to see light as a viable option. Pain often seeks to replicate itself, leading people to use the same darkness that once harmed them in an attempt to feel powerful.

Healing from the cycle of trauma can require consciously shifting from survival-based responses to intentional choices. Practices such as somatic healing, breathwork, and deep presence help regulate the nervous system, allowing individuals to move beyond automatic fear-driven reactions. Recognizing triggers as signposts rather than absolute truths can be helpful—when fear or anger arises, pausing to ask whether the response is rooted in past pain or present wisdom creates space for transformation. Additionally, cultivating environments where light is consistently felt—through supportive relationships, time in nature, or spiritual practice—reinforces a sense of safety and trust, making it easier to choose light over darkness, even when old wounds resurface.

2.    The Seduction of Power

Darkness often offers immediate gratification—anger can feel powerful, vengeance can feel just, and control can feel safe. Darkness offers an immediate sense of control and strength, while light can require patience, trust, and inner fortitude—qualities that may feel too uncertain or slow in dire situations.

People may fear that love and wisdom will be ineffective, while force and dominance promise faster results. Power derived from darkness can feel intoxicating, reinforcing the belief that it is the only real form of strength.

Shifting away from the seduction of power requires recognizing that strength derived from darkness can be fleeting and ultimately unsustainable. What may feel like control is often just a reaction to fear, whereas true strength comes from inner clarity and resilience. Practicing patience with small but consistent acts of light—such as compassion and forgiveness—can build a foundation of authentic power that does not rely on domination. Instead of reacting impulsively to external threats, cultivating inner authority through discipline and self-awareness allows one to stand firmly in the light, even when darkness tempts with the illusion of quick results.

Anakin Skywalker (Darth Vader) in Star Wars is a classic example. He believed the Jedi (the light) were too weak to protect the people he loved, so he turned to the Sith for power, only to lose himself in the process. In real life, political and corporate leaders often justify corruption or deception because they believe it’s the only way to maintain influence.

3.    Conditioning and Cultural Narratives

Societies often glorify vengeance, war, and domination, embedding the idea that aggression and force are necessary for victory over evil. Light, in contrast, is often dismissed as passive or unrealistic.

Movies, media, and history books often portray those who “fight fire with fire” as the ones who triumph, reinforcing the belief that darkness is necessary to win. Light is often dismissed as unrealistic, weak, or impractical.

Breaking free from cultural conditioning may require actively seeking out examples of light as strength, rather than accepting the dominant narratives that equate power with aggression. Studying figures and philosophies that embody wisdom, integrity, and resilience helps reframe our understanding of true strength. Immersing ourselves in teachings, stories, and communities that uphold love and higher consciousness reinforces the idea that light is not passive, but enduring. By questioning cultural narratives—asking whether real power comes from force or from unwavering wisdom—we may begin to dismantle the illusion that darkness is necessary for victory.

4.    Doubt in the Light’s Strength

Many struggle to believe that love, truth, or higher consciousness can withstand brutality. The idea of light as “soft” or “weak” prevents people from seeing its deeper, unshakable power.

Darkness often appears to “win” in the short term—corruption, violence, and deception frequently seem more effective than honesty and love. People fear that trusting the light will make them powerless or cause them to be taken advantage of.

This struggle often stems from cultural conditioning, trauma, and historical narratives that glorify force as the ultimate means of survival. Many people equate power with aggression, assuming that only brute strength can endure in a world full of violence and deception. Light—associated with love, truth, and higher consciousness—is often misperceived as passive, fragile, or naive because it doesn’t rely on domination or destruction.

However, this view misunderstands the true nature of light. The essence of light is not submission; it is an unshakable force that transforms, reveals, and endures. Love in its highest form is not weak—it is the foundation of existence. Truth cannot be broken, only resisted. Higher consciousness does not shatter under brutality; rather, it absorbs, transmutes, and outlasts it.

The misconception that light is “soft” comes from how people often see love and truth as idealistic rather than as forces that can withstand darkness. Yet history offers countless examples of individuals who embodied the power of light in the face of extreme brutality—figures who endured persecution yet never abandoned their inner radiance. Those who trust in the light learn that its strength is not in fighting fire with fire but in revealing fire for what it is—an impermanent force that cannot withstand the clarity and resilience of truth.

Building trust in the light requires consistent practice, even when doubt arises. Small, intentional choices—such as choosing honesty over convenience, kindness over retaliation, and patience over frustration—help cultivate an inner knowing that light is not weakness but strength. Over time, these choices reinforce the understanding that light is not a fragile ideal but an enduring power—one that outlasts deception and fear because it is rooted in something deeper than circumstances.

5.    The Fear of Vulnerability

The light often calls for openness, surrender, and trust, which can feel too risky in the face of perceived threats. The mind, wired for survival, instinctively reaches for control, making it difficult to believe that softness can be stronger than force.

Past betrayals or suffering reinforce the belief that trusting the light leads to pain, while defensiveness offers protection. Light requires us to let go of control, which feels unsafe when darkness threatens.

Embracing vulnerability as strength requires a shift in perspective—recognizing that openness is not weakness but a profound act of courage. Learning to stand in that openness without collapsing under fear allows us to access a deeper, more resilient power. Practices like heart coherence meditation or self-inquiry help reframe vulnerability, inviting the question: What if my strength is in my willingness to remain open? Taking small, deliberate steps—expressing truth, showing kindness, or practicing deep listening—builds the capacity to trust the light, even when fear urges us to shut down.

When Light Leads

Throughout history, many have sought to combat darkness with more darkness—violence with violence, hatred with hatred—believing it will empower them. Yet history also offers compelling evidence that the greatest transformations arise not from meeting darkness with more darkness, but by trusting in the light.

This principle shines through the lives of those who have endured unimaginable suffering and oppression, yet chose the path of wisdom, strength, and compassion. Figures like Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Saint Francis of Assisi, Viktor Frankl, Thich Nhat Hanh, Harriet Tubman, and the many leaders of the Underground Railroad are often remembered for their refusal to let darkness shape their actions, even in the face of violence, injustice, and dehumanization.

But beyond these well-known names are the countless unnamed individuals—past and present—who confront injustice every day through nonviolent resistance, moral courage, and an unwavering belief in human dignity. Their quiet yet powerful choices to rely on light over fear and retaliation continue to reshape our collective consciousness.

When someone forgives a business partner who betrayed them or a teacher diffuses conflict with wisdom rather than punishment, their lives become testaments to the power of the human spirit. They show us that, guided by love and purpose, we are capable of overcoming even the most painful trials. Though their stories may never be published, their courage and conviction ripple outward—awakening the inner light in others and reminding us that even in the darkest moments, we can choose differently.

These "everyday" individuals embody a profound truth: light is not passive. It is not weak. It is an active, transformative force—capable of dissolving darkness.

Their lives serve as reminders that true transformation does not come from fighting darkness with darkness, but through the alchemy of the soul—turning pain into wisdom, anger into strength, and suffering into the power to uplift others.

To me, they all exemplify The Soul’s Role in Trusting the Light.

The more deeply we connect to our soul, the more natural it becomes to trust the light. Unlike the ego, which is conditioned by fear, pain, and societal expectations, the soul operates from a place of knowing—remembering that truth, love, and wisdom are the real sources of strength.

Rebuilding trust in the light requires strengthening our soul connection. Deep meditation, contemplation, and heart-centered awareness help us hear the soul's voice beneath the noise of fear. Every time we act in alignment with truth and integrity—choosing love over fear, wisdom over impulse—we reinforce the soul's presence in our lives. Over time, this alignment dissolves doubts about the light's power, revealing it not as a fragile ideal but as the most enduring force in existence.

The heart, when open and unwavering, has the capacity to transmute even the deepest wounds into sources of illumination. In trusting the light, we embrace the highest expression of our humanity, proving that love, truth, and courage remain the greatest forces for change.

Choosing light does not mean suppressing pain—it means transforming it. It means recognizing that we do not need to become what hurts us. Choosing light is not about ignoring darkness—it is about refusing to let it define us.

It may require a shift in consciousness to see strength in resilience rather than revenge, to move forward with clarity, integrity, and purpose rather than retaliation. Yet, this shift is possible—because the light is not something we must reach for; it is who we are. By aligning with it, we reclaim our true power, not through domination or destruction, but through the unwavering force of wisdom, compassion, and truth.