The Light Beneath Your Shaking Hands

The meeting is over, but your mind is still sitting at that table, replaying the exact tone you used to sound normal while your hands were shaking underneath. You are performing okayness for an audience that has already left the room.

There was a man born blind, and the disciples asked whose sin caused it—his or his parents'. The light answered: neither.

Your shaking is not a sin to be punished. It is a canvas.

What you are hiding under the table is the very place the light wants to touch. The kingdom is inside you right now, not in the perfect performance you are trying to project.

You do not need to fix the tremor before you are worthy of being seen. The mask is heavy, but the face beneath it is already known.