The Light Waits in Your Exhaustion
The door clicks shut, and the performance ends. The smile you wore like armor all day finally drops, leaving your face heavy with the ache of holding it up.
You are not a fraud for being exhausted; you are human for having carried so much weight in silence. In this quiet car, the light does not ask you to smile again.
It does not demand you fix the fatigue before you drive home. Split a piece of wood, lift a stone—the light is right here in the exhaustion, not waiting for you to feel better.
You came from the light, and you are returning to it now, exactly as you are: tired, unmasked, and deeply held. The day required a mask; this moment requires only your breath.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, Gospel of Thomas
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