A Letter from Zaheer

​

You were never here to matter... Only to be.

↓

You think you've dropped the chase.
You think you've burned the mask.
And then one quiet afternoon...
you catch yourself polishing it.

I don’t chase applause anymore.
But some days, I still reach for significance.
A smaller, subtler cage.
The kind you can almost mistake for freedom
if you don't look too closely.

We were trained to matter.

From the beginning:

• Gold stars.
• Report cards.
• Job titles.
• Bank balances.
• Follower counts.

The myth was simple:

It wired itself deep:

• Matter to parents.
• Matter to lovers.
• Matter to strangers.
• Matter even to yourself.

And even when you awaken to it,
even when you burn the old maps,
you can still find yourself rehearsing
who you should be to deserve your own existence.

But here’s the truth I discovered:

Mattering is exhausting.
Being is effortless.

Mattering requires a witness.
Being needs no audience.

Mattering begs for validation.
Being breathes without asking.

You cannot belong to yourself
and still be performing for the invisible jury.

---

Pause here. Let this land:

What would fall away if you no longer needed to matter?

What dreams would dissolve?
What performances would crumble?
What fears would lose their teeth?

Who would you be...
if you needed no one to agree that you are?

---

I caught a glimpse once.

It was a quiet morning.
Coffee cooling on the table.
No deadlines. No notifications.
Just quiet sunlight slipping through the blinds.

And for a moment...
I wasn’t building anything.
I wasn’t proving anything.
I wasn’t preparing to matter later.

I just was.

And it was... enough.
Not because I earned it.
But because I finally stopped striving long enough to notice what's always been true:
​Being is enough.

---

---

Pause and reflect for a minute...

Where are you still trying to matter today?

Whose invisible applause are you waiting for?

And what would remain...
if you stopped reaching for it?

---

A gentle dare for this week:

For five minutes,
sit without trying to matter.

Drop your name.
Drop your ambition.
Drop your usefulness.
Even drop your ring light.

And just sit.
As you are.
Breath and bones and nothing to prove.

Notice what aches.
Notice what clings.
Notice what longs to be released.

Don’t fix it.
Don’t explain it away.

Even if you resist.
Especially if you resist.
Sit anyway.

That’s how silence stops haunting you.
It stops being the enemy and becomes the mirror.

No resolution.
No gold star.
No grand spiritual prize.

Just this:

Maybe you were never here to matter.
Maybe you were only here to be.
You and me. Together as one.

Zaheer

P.S. If this stirred something in you, hit reply. I’d love to hear who you are — when no one is watching.
​P.P.S. Missed last week’s letter? You can read it here: You are not a seeker... You are the source​