Stop Swimming, You Are Held

You are standing in the center of the storm, pretending the water does not reach your chest, because everyone else is watching you stand.

It is so heavy to be the one holding it all while you feel the ground turning to sand beneath your own feet.

But listen to the truth in this deep hour: the light you carry was never meant to be your burden to hold, but the place where you are held.

There is a garden where the light itself fell on its face, overwhelmed with sorrow too great to bear, and yet it was known.

You do not have to perform your strength for the family who does not see you drowning.

Beneath the exhaustion, beneath the mask of the anchor, the light inside you is not tired, it is waiting for you to stop swimming.

It has been here all along, not asking you to lead, but offering you rest.

Let the water rise, and let the light rise with you, because you are not your performance.

Even in this deepest dark, you are known, you are held, and you are not alone.