A Battle of Light and Shadows

There’s something about late October that feels… different. The air hums with an eerie electricity, like the world itself is holding its breath. Once upon a time, I used to love Halloween. I’d plan my costume weeks in advance, chase the sugar high of trick-or-treating, and end the night laughing at some friend’s party. It was playful, silly, harmless—or so I thought. But this year feels heavier. The older I get, the more I sense that there’s something deeper pulsing beneath the orange lights and plastic cobwebs.

When I walk through my neighborhood now, I don’t see festivity. I see front yards turned graveyards. Skeletons hanging from trees. Fake blood smeared on windows. Tombstones lined up like invitations. Death, destruction, decay—all turned into décor. And it makes me pause. Why do we celebrate the imagery of death and call it fun? Somewhere along the way, what once felt like innocent play began to feel like a rehearsal for darkness.

I’ve read that Halloween is the night when the veil between the spiritual and physical worlds thins—when energies mingle at their lowest vibration. Former Satanist John Ramirez once called it “the highest day on the Satanic calendar,” adding, “I want to thank Christian parents for allowing their children to celebrate…the devil’s holiday one time a year.” Another ex-occult practitioner said bluntly, “That whole perimeter becomes one big Satanic ritual for that whole neighborhood.” These are people who once worshiped the darkness they now warn against. So I can’t help but wonder—if the architects of the occult call it a feast for demons, why are the rest of us so eager to join the table?

Is it really harmless fun, or have we just learned to market the macabre? We don’t see it as blood and bones anymore—we see it as aesthetic. But what if aesthetic has always been the devil’s favorite disguise? Is it possible that what we dress up as we slowly become? After all, if our homes are filled with images of death, what message are we sending to the living?

It’s easy to scoff at the word “demonic.” It sounds medieval, doesn’t it? But look closer. Every ghost, ghoul, and bloody mask glorifies fear. Every “harmless” horror movie numbs us to the reality of evil. And if energy follows attention, then what are we really feeding every October 31st? Maybe it’s not superstition—it’s spiritual logic. The same way an open window invites fresh air, an open fascination with darkness might invite something else entirely.

Think of it like spiritual nutrition. You wouldn’t knowingly drink poison just because it’s served in a champagne glass. So why feed the soul fear and death just because it’s wrapped in candy and costume? What we celebrate matters. What we normalize matters. And sometimes, what seems fun can be a deception—a glittering lie in a pumpkin-spiced wrapper.

This year, I’ve decided not to join the masquerade. No decorations. No parties. No sugar-fueled chaos. Instead, I’m dedicating the night to stillness—to prayer, to reflection, to cleansing my space and protecting my peace. A self-care day for the soul. Because in a world obsessed with masks, authenticity feels like rebellion.

There’s a battle happening—subtle but real—between light and darkness, between numbness and awareness. And the more I learn, the more I see how desperately we need light. I don’t claim to have it all figured out. But I know that guarding my mind, body, and spirit is not fear—it’s wisdom.

So as the pumpkins glow and the night grows strange, I ask: what do you choose to celebrate? Maybe Halloween is just fun for some. Maybe it’s sacred for others. But maybe—just maybe—it’s time to look beneath the mask. Because sometimes, what sparkles most in the dark isn’t light—it’s the deception of it.

— Xoxo,

Victoria