Darkness Into Light 2026

On Friday night — or, as Fionn kept reminding me, Saturday morning — Fionn and I walked Darkness Into Light together.

For the last four years I signed up for this walk and never managed to do it. Every year I wanted to walk for Haze, and every year it felt too heavy, too painful, or simply beyond what I could emotionally manage.

This year was different.

It was still hard.
There were moments during the walk where I could feel the grief sitting just beneath the surface. Even writing this now brings tears to my eyes.

But we did it.

Not quickly.
Not easily.
But together.

There is something powerful about walking through darkness as dawn begins to arrive. Thousands of people carrying stories you cannot see. Grief. Love. Depression. Loss. Survival. Hope.

At one point I found myself thinking about all the people walking beside me who could not see how broken I felt inside. Even Fionn could not fully see it.

And yet maybe, just maybe, that is part of what healing looks like.

Not the disappearance of pain, but the possibility that one day life might hold moments of joy alongside it.

Five years after losing Haze, I still don’t have neat answers about grief. I don’t think grief is something you “finish”. I think it becomes something you learn to carry differently over time.

For a long time, survival itself was the achievement.

Lately, though, I’ve started noticing small shifts:

• getting back into the gym
• swimming again
• trying to return to running
• beginning CPAP treatment for severe sleep apnoea
• slowly reconnecting with life instead of only enduring it

Doing this walk felt kind of like the old me again.
Moving towards the hard stuff instead of letting it control me.

None of this is dramatic.
Most of it is invisible from the outside.

But maybe healing often looks like that.

One quiet step at a time.

Walking beside Fionn last night mattered to me more than the distance or the event itself. It reminded me that even after immense loss, connection still exists. Love still exists.

And maybe that is what Darkness Into Light is really about.

Not pretending the darkness isn’t real.
But continuing to walk anyway until morning comes.

Haze — always in my heart.