the silent panic of rehearsing a lie in the mirror to sound convincing when asked how you are

The Light Sees Your Trembling Hands

The mirror is a stage this morning, and you are rehearsing the lines that keep the world from knowing you are drowning. You practice the smile until it holds, until the panic is hidden behind a performance of okayness.

But the light does not need your script. It sees the tremor in your hands before you even speak.

There is a truth inside you that wants to be brought forth, and if you keep it buried behind the mask, it will only weigh you down. The light is not waiting for your perfection; it is waiting for your honesty.

You do not have to convince the One who already knows.

Drawing from

Gospel of Thomas, Matthew

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