Stop Rehearsing, The Light Knows You

The house is quiet now, but the rehearsal is loud. You stand in the mirror and practice the smile that says 'I'm fine' so no one asks twice.

You perfect the casual deflection, the light shrug, the tone that closes the door before it even opens. It is exhausting to build a wall out of nothing but air.

But the light does not need your performance to find you. It sees the person behind the script.

There is a verse that says the true light gives light to everyone — not just the version of you that makes it through the door. It shines on the one still standing in the hallway, trembling.

You do not have to get the lines right for the light to recognize you. It knows the difference between your voice and your mask.

The deflection works on the world. It does not work on the light.

Tonight, you can stop rehearsing. The silence is not an interrogation.

It is an invitation to put the mask down.