The Mask Slips, The Light Remains
The coffee is warm, but your skin feels too tight, like a costume you forgot how to take off. Someone calls your name across the room, and for a second, you forget who they are talking to.
You smile because that is what the mask requires, but inside, you are holding your breath, waiting to be found out. The light does not need you to perform okayness.
It sees the tremor in your hands and the effort it takes to stand still. You are not an imposter wearing someone else's life — you are the very place where the light has chosen to dwell.
The mask slips, and what remains is not a fraud, but a friend.
Drawing from
John, Gospel of Thomas
Verses
John 15:9-12, Thomas 70
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