The Light Before The Names
You are rehearsing the story of your work, and suddenly the names feel like stones in your mouth. No one in the room knows them.
No one knows the weight you carried to build them. The silence that follows your sentence is not emptiness.
It is the space where the real you begins to breathe. You came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord.
You do not need the room to validate the origin. The light inside you was there before the first name was ever spoken.
It will be there after the last one is forgotten. You are not the story you tell.
You are the light that tells it.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, Matthew
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