The Light Sits Beside the Real You

The mask is already on, smooth and perfect, before you even leave the house. You are performing okayness for an audience that hasn't even arrived yet.

But there is a terror in the quiet moment before the performance starts—the fear that someone might see the mess before you've had time to hide it. You worry that if they saw the cracks, they would turn away.

Yet the light does not wait for you to finish painting the walls. It sees what is concealed, not to expose you, but to bring it out into the open where it can finally breathe.

There is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known. The light is not afraid of your chaos.

It walks right into the room where you are pretending and sits down beside the real you. You do not have to hold the pose.

The mask was never the point. The light sees behind it, and loves what it finds there.