When the Mask Cracks
Issue #8- Learn the signs, meet the Soul
✉️ Letter to the Soul Riders — When the Mask Starts to Crumble
Dear Soul Rider,
All my life, I’ve been performing.
Wearing masks to meet deadlines, bending myself to fit expectations, bleeding in silence just to hold up everyone else’s goals. I carried “strong” like a duty, “capable” like a cage. And every small hit I took left a hairline crack; one I didn’t notice until it spread like wildfire through my peace, my health, my spirit.
That’s how it works, isn’t it?
A laugh that feels late. A yes that feels dirty. A smile stretched too tight.
Tiny fractures that grow while you’re too busy saving face to notice you’re losing yourself.
Then comes the bigger test, the mission, the calling, the chance you prayed for. And suddenly, imposter syndrome steps in like a thief. You freeze. Stoned. Paralyzed.
Not because you aren’t ready. But because the cracks you ignored now whisper louder than your courage.
I’ve been there… maybe still outgrowing it… maybe…
I know how dangerous silence can feel when it’s the wrong kind; the silence of pretending, of swallowing your truth. But there’s another silence too. The one that heals. The one that turns fracture into art.
Kintsugi teaches us this: the wound is not the end of the story; it’s the place where gold begins to pour. If you can pause, if you can listen, if you can gather the fragments of wisdom left by every step, every failure, every scar; you’ll find you’ve been storing gold all along. Enough to stitch your cracks and rise again.
I once broke the kentos of my fists in training. For a while, I thought I had ruined them… nerves damaged, pain permanent. But over time, I noticed something: I could do push-ups on those fists with more ease. The pain didn’t rule me anymore. What once weakened me became a strange kind of strength. My cracks turned to capability.
That’s the gift of fracture: it makes you vulnerable, yes. But if you honor it, it can also make you invincible.
So tonight, don’t cover the crack.
Don’t tape the mask.
Face the mirror.
Let’s bleed gold together.
— Terod Naej
From the Soul to the Page.
✨ Street Poetic piece
Cracklight
I wore the grin like a shield, kept my pain concealed,
Signed fake deals with myself, truth never revealed.
Smiles on my face but my soul never healed,
The cracks in the mask showed the wounds I sealed.
First it was a whisper, then thunder it became,
The mirror spit fire, started calling my name.
Strong, unbreakable… fear gave me those claims,
But none of those titles ever fit in my veins.
I swallowed the silence, I carried the weight,
Now the gold in the fracture rewrites my fate.
I turn with the force, Tenkan in my stance,
Let the lies slip away, truth steps in the dance.
From gravel and dust, from ashes I rise,
Molten honesty burns with fire in my eyes.
Grandmothers chanting, “Child, cross the line,”
I stepped in the threshold, the mirror is mine.
No more glue to cover, no disguise to defend,
I stitch light in the cracks, I let the real bend.
If I’m a vessel, let me sing what is true,
If I’m a mirror, I’ll reflect only you.
The mask hits the floor, the noise disappears,
The door unlocks loud, and freedom appears.
📝 Journal Reflection — Cracks, Triggers, and Rising Gold
There are two kinds of cracks:
the ones life throws at you, and the ones you let others carve deeper.
Too often, we hand the hammer to people we love, partners, friends, even family. Not because they’re cruel, but because we forget to guard our own edges. We let their expectations become our deadlines. Their judgments become our mirrors. Their moods decide if we’re “enough.”
And every time we silence ourselves to keep the peace,
every time we play small to make others comfortable,
every time we say yes when our whole body screamed no;
another fracture runs through the mask.
At first it feels noble. Loving. Dutiful.
But slowly, we trade away our wholeness for approval.
And by the time the mask falls, we hardly remember what our real face looks like.
Here’s the truth:
We will always have cracks.
But we don’t have to let others deepen them.
The practice is to notice the triggers:
Who do you shrink around?
Who do you overperform for?
Whose voice echoes in your head when you doubt yourself?
These are not enemies; they’re teachers. They reveal the exact places where you forgot your own worth.
Reclaiming yourself starts with one small shift:
Choosing silence over reaction.
Choosing honesty over performance.
Choosing your body’s wisdom over borrowed scripts.
Like Kintsugi, healing doesn’t erase the crack. It honors it. It says: This fracture is my story. This scar is my gold.
So today, ask yourself:
“Where have I let others write my script?”
“Which cracks in me are actually doorways?”
“What is the smallest act of gold I can pour into myself this week?”
Write it raw. Don’t worry about pretty. Because every word is a stroke of gold on your broken porcelain.
And when the mirror stares back, it won’t be your mask it reflects.
It will be the face you’ve been waiting to see: whole, imperfect, unshakably real.
🎧 Listen While You Reflect
Damian Marley — There for You
Reggae grounding, reminding you to breathe and reclaim yourself.Deep, soulful, with a touch of Island grit and hope
Kendrick Lamar — Fear.
Raw confessional energy, matching the cracks and weight of expectations.Cephas Azariah - Kintsugi
Mysterious, yet deeply emotional; perfect for mirror moments.
🥢 Kintsugi: Cracks That Turn to Gold
🧠 Brain — The Story of Kintsugi
Kintsugi is an old Japanese art. The word means “golden joinery.” Instead of hiding broken pottery, the cracks are filled with lacquer and powdered gold.
The result? The piece doesn’t just get fixed; it becomes more valuable than before.
Every fracture tells a story. Every scar becomes a shining vein.
In life, we’re taught the opposite. Break something, and it loses its worth. Break yourself, and you must hide it, cover it, pretend it never happened.
But Kintsugi flips the script: the break is where the beauty begins.
Science even agrees. Trauma and stress leave marks in the nervous system, in the way we breathe, in the way we stand. But those same cracks—if we tend them—become the exact places where resilience grows. That’s called post-traumatic growth. Just like the pottery, the break is real, but so is the gold.
🕊️ Soul — The Kintsugi Within
Think about your own cracks.
The heartbreak you never spoke of.
The friendship that cut you deep.
The burnout that left you hollow.
The failures that bent your pride.
We cover them with masks. We smile. We hustle. We tell the world we’re fine.
But inside, those cracks ache. And the more we hide them, the more fragile we feel.
Kintsugi whispers a different way: don’t hide the fracture—illuminate it.
Your broken pieces are not the end of you. They are the map to the gold in you.
That failed business taught you endurance. That betrayal taught you discernment. That heartbreak taught you how to love without losing yourself.
Even your body remembers.
I broke the kentos of my fists in training years ago. At first, I thought the nerves were gone forever, that I’d weakened myself. But time taught me otherwise. Today, those same fists can carry me through push-ups with less pain than before. The crack made me stronger in ways I never planned.
This is the hidden promise of Kintsugi:
The break is not your shame.
It’s your signature.
And the gold is already inside you, waiting for the moment you dare to pour it.
✨ Quote of the Week
“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.”
— Ernest Hemingway (A Farewell to Arms)
🪶 Takeaway
Ernest Hemingway, one of the 20th century’s most influential writers, known for his terse prose and themes of courage, loss, and resilience. This particular quote comes from A Farewell to Arms, a novel set during World War I.
This line captures a universal truth about human suffering and resilience:
"The world breaks everyone": Life inevitably brings hardship, whether through loss, trauma, failure, or grief. No one escapes unscathed.
"Many are strong at the broken places": The very wounds we suffer can become sources of strength. People often emerge from adversity with deeper wisdom, empathy, and resilience.
It’s not a romanticized view of suffering; it’s raw and realistic. Hemingway also adds a darker layer in the full quote: “But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially.” He’s acknowledging that not everyone survives hardship, and that the world doesn’t discriminate in its cruelty.
Life will break you. That’s not failure; it’s nature. But the choice is in what you do after. If you deny the crack, it becomes weakness. If you honor it, it becomes the place where strength is born.
Your broken place is not your flaw. It’s your forge.
🖋️ Closing Words from the Author
Soul Rider,
Hemingway was right: “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.”
We all wear masks, thinking they’ll keep us safe. But the truth is, the cracks always come. Sometimes from life’s blows. Sometimes from the weight we put on ourselves. Sometimes from the people we love most.
And yet, those fractures are not the end of us. They are the beginning. They are the invitations. They are the doorways where the gold waits to pour through.
This experience with my broken kentos, where I thought I had damaged my fists forever, today carry me through push-ups with more ease than before. What I thought was weakness became strength. What looked like loss became gain. That is Kintsugi, alive in the body.
Your cracks hold the same promise.
They can weaken you if you keep hiding them.
But if you honor them, if you pour silence and truth into them, they will turn into gold veins that no mask can fake and no storm can erase.
So here’s the call:
This week, name one crack you’ve been ashamed of. Then write down one gift it left you with. Carry it. Own it. Share it if you dare.
Because the world doesn’t need more perfect masks. It needs real people who bleed gold.
Rise, not unbroken,
but unshakably whole.
— Terod Naej
From the Soul to the Page. From Kiskeya to the World.
P.S.
🛤️ The Road So Far: Soul Rider Archives of Becoming
Your Guided Path Through the Terod Naej Hero’s Journey
“Sometimes, to see how far you’ve come, you just need to look back with clearer eyes.”
Whether you’ve been here from the beginning, or you’re just joining the Soul Rider movement — here’s where we’ve been so far. Each issue reflects a stage of transformation, mirroring the Hero’s Journey. Start anywhere. Return anytime.
📖 Issue #1: When the Pause Becomes the Prayer
A Letter to the One Who’s About to Burn Out
→ On stillness, softness, and the sacred act of not grinding your soul to dust.
Read it here →
#burnout recovery, #sacred pause, #slow living, #nervous system healing
🪞 Issue #2: Mirror Ride
Reflections on Fatherhood, Legacy, and Emotional Growth
→ Bike rides and breaking generational silence.
Read it here →
#fatherhood wisdom, #emotional intelligence, #parenting legacy
🚲 Issue #3: Riding Into Legacy
A Soul Rider’s Perspective on Time, Transition & Trust
→ From Georgetown roads to the eternal rhythm of father-daughter bonds.
Read it here →
#legacy building, #mindful parenting, #personal reflection
🪶 Issue #4: The Weight of the Names They Gave Me
How Identity, Culture & Resistance Are Woven Into Us
→ A lyrical unraveling of the names, masks, and roles we inherit.
Read it here →
#identity healing, #Haitian names, #self-discovery journey
🔔 Issue #5: I Was Surviving Silence, Not Living in Truth
The ache before the storm, and the stillness that reveals we were meant for more.
→ Stage: Still Life (final reflection)
Read it here →
🪞 Issue #6: The Call
When the times come and the time comes…
→ Lessons from MLK, Malala, Mandela & Others Who Said Yes
Read it here →
⚔️ Issue #7: Facing Fear
Where Fear Hid My Name
→ A journey through childhood terrors, ancestral echoes, and the courage to finally face the shadows.
Read it here →
#facing fear, #ancestral wisdom, #inner courage, #breaking silence