Bring Your Grief Into The Light

You pause in the hallway, doing the math before you open the door. You measure your grief against the space available, wondering if you can fit inside the room without crushing the joy already there.

You calculate the weight of your silence, terrified that entering will shift the atmosphere, that your sorrow is too large to be hidden and too heavy to be carried quietly. But listen — the light does not ask you to shrink.

It does not require you to fold yourself into a smaller shape to be welcome. The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world, and it makes room for exactly what you are carrying.

You do not have to leave your grief in the hall. Bring it in.

The light expands to hold it.