The Light Loves the Face Beneath
The laugh dies in your throat, and suddenly the room feels cold. You realize they are smiling at a mask you crafted this morning—a version of you that is lighter, easier, less broken than the person sitting in this chair.
The performance worked too well, and now you are trapped behind the applause, terrified they will find out the truth. But the light does not love the costume.
It loves the face beneath it, the one you are trying so hard to hide. You came from the light, the place where light generates itself, long before you learned to perform for survival.
That origin is still your truth, regardless of the role you played today. The mask is heavy, but you do not have to wear it forever.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, John
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