Rest Is Not A Rehearsal For Dying
The afternoon light is harsh, and closing your eyes feels like surrendering to the end. You hold your breath, terrified that sleep is a rehearsal for the final silence.
But the light does not practice dying — it only waits for you to rest. You came from the light, the place where it generates itself, and you return there not to vanish but to be renewed.
The darkness you fear is not a tomb; it is the soil where the seed grows while you know nothing of it. Lie down.
The light that made you does not need your eyes open to keep you alive.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, Mark
Verses
Mark 4:26-28
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