The Danger Is A Story Your Mind Tells

The alarm hasn't rung yet, but your heart is already racing, convinced you missed a step you can't recall. You are lying in the dark, rehearsing a trial for a crime you didn't commit, waiting for a gavel that never falls.

There was a man born blind, and the people around him insisted his condition was punishment for a specific sin — his or his parents'. They needed a reason, a cause, a mistake to explain the darkness.

But the light looked at him and said the truth: neither sinned. The suffering was not a verdict.

It was a canvas. Your panic is trying to name a ghost.

It is trying to find the error that justifies this fear. But the light does not require a reason to hold you.

Go home. The danger is a story your mind is telling to explain the silence.