The Hollow Is Where Light Waits

The afternoon light is flat and honest, exposing the gap between the hand holding yours and the hollow space inside your chest. You sit there performing wholeness while terrified they will see the emptiness where your soul used to be.

But the light does not need you to fill that space with performance or explanations. There is something within you — a quiet, enduring presence — that does not depend on your ability to feel it.

If you bring forth what is within you, even the silence, even the fear, it will save you. If you bury it behind a smile, it will destroy you.

The hollow is not a verdict; it is the very place where the light is waiting to be remembered. You are not your capacity to feel; you are the light that fills the capacity.