Towards the Light: The Journey That Lives Within Us All
- Lyra Knox

- Feb 19
- 3 min read
There’s something about this little creature’s journey that won’t leave me. A tiny anglerfish, born in the abyss, where no light reaches, where darkness is not just a passing shadow but a way of existence. And yet, it swam—towards something it had never known, something it had only sensed, something that called to it in ways it could not explain.
I first saw its story in passing, but it stayed with me. And then, I saw it again. And again. And I realized I was not alone in feeling this overwhelming, inexplicable something. People everywhere were crying over this small being. Something about it reached deep, beyond words, beyond logic, straight into the quietest, most fragile places inside us.
But why?
Why is this little fish making so many of us feel the weight of something we thought we had buried?
The Journey of the Deep
We have all lived in the depths at some point in our lives. Some of us were born into it, our first breath taken in the cold weight of abandonment, neglect, or loss. Some of us sank into it later, pulled under by grief, heartbreak, betrayal, or the slow, silent erosion of our own worth. And many of us—too many—have stayed there, not because we wanted to, but because we believed that was all there was.
Like this small creature of the deep, we were told: This is your home. This is where you belong.
And yet, there was always something—a flicker, a calling, a light too distant to define but impossible to ignore.
And one day, we swam.
The Price of Reaching for More
This anglerfish did what no other of its kind had been seen doing before at least not caught on camera—it broke the surface. It reached the light. But in doing so, it perished. Its body, designed for the crushing pressure of the deep, could not survive in the open air.
And that is what haunts me.
Because isn’t that what so many of us fear? That if we break free from the places we’ve always known, we won’t survive? That if we reach for love, for healing, for light, we will be destroyed by the very thing we long for?
How often do we hold ourselves back because the risk of change feels greater than the weight of staying the same?
But this little creature did not hesitate. It did not stop itself from rising. It did not resist the pull of something greater, even if it never knew what awaited it above.
And maybe this is why its story has resonated so deeply, especially now, as the Sun moves through Pisces—the final sign of the zodiac, the one that dissolves what we were so we can become something more. Pisces energy calls us to surrender, to trust the currents that pull us toward transformation, even if the path is unclear. It is a sign of transcendence, of stepping beyond perceived limitations and opening ourselves to something beyond logic, beyond form, beyond the fear of what we might lose.
Maybe this fish was never meant to stay in the depths. Maybe none of us are.
The Light We Were Always Meant to Hold
We are not like this anglerfish. Our survival does not depend on staying in the dark. We can rise without perishing. We can expand without fear of destruction. We can reach for more without losing ourselves.
But like this small being, we must have the courage to try.
Because the light was never outside of us—it was always waiting to be reclaimed. Because healing is not a destination, but a decision. Because to rise is to trust, to hope, to surrender to something we may not fully understand. And because no matter how deep we have lived, how much we have endured, how many times we have been told we are meant for darkness—we can always choose to swim towards the light.
Somewhere within us, we already know what awaits us there. We just have to believe we are worthy of reaching it.
For Those Still Rising…
This song, Towards the Light, was born from this realization. A melody for the ones still ascending, still pushing through the weight, still daring to believe in something more. I hope it finds you where you are. And I hope it reminds you—your light was never lost.
It was always waiting for you.






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