You Are Held Before You Speak

This hour strips the performance away until only the fear remains: that you are just a function, a resource to be used until you are empty. That if you stopped giving, the room would clear.

But listen. In this deepest dark, where you have nothing left to offer, you are not being evaluated.

You are being held. There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off.

He did not wait for the speech. He did not wait for the promise to work again.

He ran. Before the apology, before the plan — he ran.

The light does not love you for what you provide. It loves you because you are its own.

You are not a transaction. You are a child.

The giving is just the overflow. The worth is the root.