Two Masks Hiding the Same Hunger

The house is loud with the morning rush, but there is a new silence sitting at your table. You watch your child pack their own bag, tie their own shoes, and walk out the door without asking for a thing.

They have decided, in their quiet wisdom, that you cannot provide what they need. They are wearing a mask of independence to protect you from the truth of their hunger.

And you are wearing a mask of competence to hide the fact that your hands are empty. Two performances, dancing around the same painful reality.

But the light sees behind both masks. It saw the father running before the son could finish his apology, and it sees the need in your child's eyes before they ever speak it.

You do not have to have the answer to be the place where the answer arrives. Stop trying to fix what you cannot fix.

Just sit with them in the not-knowing. The light does not require you to be a provider; it only asks you to be present.