Held Even in the Shaking
The coffee cup hovers halfway to your mouth, and the world narrows to the tremor you are certain is coming. You freeze mid-gesture, holding your breath, terrified that any movement will betray the shake to the room.
But the light does not require a steady hand to hold you. It is in the wood of the table, in the air you are holding, in the very space between your fear and your fingers.
You came from the light, and it does not vanish because your body trembles. The panic says you must be still to be safe, but the truth says you are already held even in the shaking.
Move anyway. The spill is not the end of the story.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, Matthew
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