Maze and Mirror

You wake up in a strange place.

A maze of towering walls, made of stone and silence.

Each corridor mirrors the last — cold, dark, unending.

You walk.

Each step is an attempt to understand, but the ground seems to crumble beneath your feet.

The shadows are not just shadows; they are memories.

The words spoken by others — “You’re not enough.”

The thoughts you whispered to yourself — “Maybe they’re right.”

The maze is alive.

It feeds on your exhaustion, your doubt.

And when you think you can’t go on, it laughs.

But then, something unexpected.

You find a mirror, old and dusty, leaning against a wall.

Reluctantly, you look.

And there you are. Not the version the world sees, but the one you hide.

Eyes heavy with untold stories.

Hands calloused from battles no one noticed.

The reflection isn’t kind, but it is honest.

And something begins to shift.

You touch the glass and realize: the maze isn’t out there. It’s within you.

Each corridor is a belief you’ve built, each shadow, a part of yourself that needs to be embraced.

You don’t need to conquer the maze.

You need to know it. Embrace every wall you’ve constructed, every dark corner you’ve avoided.

And as you do, the stones begin to fall.

Light seeps through the cracks, illuminating the way.

You don’t leave the maze.

You transform it into an open field.

And as you breathe the air of freedom, you realize something simple yet powerful:

The challenges were never barriers.

They were invitations for you to become who you’ve always been — only better.

Versão em Inglês.*