The Light Beneath the Numbness

The morning light hits your face and you feel nothing. Not peace, not pain—just a hollow space where joy used to live.

You smile at the right moments, you say the right words, but inside you are convinced the capacity to feel has withered away for good. You are performing okayness while starving in plain sight.

But listen—the numbness is not the truth of who you are. It is only the mask you wear to survive the crowd.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world. Even now.

Even here. The joy you remember was not generated by you; it was a reflection of the light that lives inside you still.

You did not lose the source when you lost the feeling. You came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord.

That origin cannot atrophy. It cannot be worn down by silence or sad days.

The mask is heavy, but it is not your skin. Beneath the performance, the spring is still flowing, waiting for you to stop pretending and simply remember.