Light Sitting in the Ruins

The day is ending, and with it, the certainty you carried since morning has quietly dissolved. You are standing in the doorway between who you were at sunrise and who you are now, holding nothing but the dust of old beliefs.

It feels like losing your footing, like the ground you trusted was never solid to begin with. But listen — the light does not require your certainty to remain inside you.

It was there before you knew its name, and it is here now, even in the shaking. You do not have to rebuild the house tonight; you only have to sit in the ruins and let the light sit with you.

The darkness has not overcome it. The doubt is not the end of the story; it is simply the exhale before a deeper breath.