the quiet terror that if you stop performing the perfect habit, everyone will finally see the broken thing underneath

The Light Sees the Crack as Doorway

The morning light is harsh on the mask you spent all night constructing. You move through the day holding your breath, terrified that if you stop performing the perfect habit, everyone will finally see the broken thing underneath.

But the light does not need your costume to find you. It came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord — and that is where you came from too.

You do not have to earn the right to be seen by polishing the surface. The light sees the crack and calls it a doorway.

Neither do I condemn you. Go now.

You are free to let the mask fall.

Drawing from

Gospel of Thomas, John

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