Unclench Your Jaw and Breathe

The mask is heavy this morning. You have been holding your jaw so tight to keep the sound inside that your teeth ache, and your face feels like stone.

You are working so hard to appear okay while everything in you is breaking apart. But the light does not need your composure.

It sees the tremor beneath the performance. There is a place where you do not have to hold it together — where the sob is allowed to escape and the jaw can finally unclench.

You were made to bring forth what is within you, not to bury it until it breaks you. The thing you are hiding is the very thing that will set you free if you let it out.

The light is not afraid of your grief. It is waiting for you to stop performing and start breathing.