Entry VI of the Truth-Seeking Series
— On Carrying the Truth Before the World is Ready
Some people wake slowly, stretching into awareness like it’s a lazy morning.
Others are jolted awake — mid-dream, heart racing, unable to go back to sleep.
I was one of the jolted.
When you wake before the world is ready, the air feels different.
You notice the cracks in the walls that others still admire.
You smell the smoke before they see the fire.
And when you try to point it out, people squint at you as if you’ve invented it.
They’re not ready.
And you can’t unsee.
The Price No One Talks About
Waking early is a gift, but it isn’t gentle.
It can cost you friends, relationships, a sense of belonging.
It can make you feel like an outsider in your own country —
not because you’ve left it,
but because it’s left you.
You start to notice the tiny evasions in conversation —
how people shift the topic when truth comes too close.
How laughter becomes a shield.
How they ask you to lighten up when all you’ve done is name what’s real.
There’s grief in that.
Grief for the world as it is,
and grief for the world as it could be.
And there’s another grief no one warns you about:
the loss of illusion.
The soft, blurry comfort of believing someone else is steering this ship with wisdom and care.
That if you just follow the rules, life will unfold as it should.
Awakening tears that map in half.
The Responsibility of the Awake
The ones who wake first are not meant to stand above the rest —
but to hold the lantern until others can see their own way forward.
It is not a role of superiority, but of stewardship.
You are not the savior.
You are the witness.
The quiet reminder that reality hasn’t disappeared just because it’s inconvenient.
That’s why it matters how we hold the truth.
Not as a weapon to cut others down,
but as a compass that points to what remains when the lies fall away.
We must resist the temptation to grow bitter at the sleeping — because awakening is not a race.
It’s a tide.
And it comes for everyone in its own time.
The Weight and the Fire
Carrying truth alone can feel heavy.
It can be tempting to put it down,
to pretend you never saw what you saw,
to shrink yourself into the quiet corners where no one expects you to speak.
But truth has its own momentum.
Once it has touched you, it pulls you forward.
And in that pull, you find the fire —
the steady flame that refuses to be extinguished,
no matter how many nights feel endless.
This fire is not anger, though it can burn through illusion.
It is not despair, though it has walked through shadows.
It is clarity — and clarity is what changes the world.
When the Rest Begin to Stir
The day will come when the quiet will break.
When the things you’ve seen will be undeniable.
When the sleeping will stir, not because you shook them,
but because the noise outside their dream became too loud to ignore.
On that day, the ones who woke first will not be surprised.
We will be ready.
Not with I told you so,
but with Here’s what’s true. Here’s what’s next.
Because the purpose of waking early is not to stand alone —
it’s to be prepared when the others arrive.
To help them navigate the shock,
the grief,
the disorientation.
I used to think awakening was a personal victory.
Now I see it as a calling — a burden, yes, but also a gift.
The cost of seeing is high, but the cost of staying asleep is higher.
The cost of seeing is high, but the cost of staying asleep is higher.
If you’re reading this and you feel alone in what you know,
trust that others are stirring.
And when they wake, they’ll need to find your light still burning.
Hellènic Muse 