Welcome.
Settle into a comfortable position.
Allow your body to rest exactly as it is.
There is nothing you need to fix.
Nothing you need to hold.
If it feels right,
Gently close your eyes.
If they are already closed,
Imagine them softening even more,
Like warm curtains lowering at the end of a long day.
Take a moment to notice the support beneath you.
The bed,
The couch,
The floor.
Holding you completely.
You are safe to let go.
Let's begin with a slow,
Steady breath.
I invite you to breathe in for five.
And breathe out for five.
Again.
In for five.
Out for five.
One more time.
In for five.
Allow your breath to find its own gentle rhythm.
Easy.
Unforced.
And calm.
Now imagine a tiny bear cub.
Small and round.
With soft brown fur still warm from the sun.
Curious eyes.
Clumsy paws that tumble and recover.
The cub has spent the day outside in a peaceful forest clearing.
Golden sunlight filters through all the trees,
Dappling the ground.
The air smells like pine needles and earth warmed by afternoon light.
The cub trots through tall grass,
Swatting at butterflies.
Paws splash in a shallow stream,
Sending ripples across clear water.
And they roll gently down a grassy hill,
Stopping in a heap of giggles and fur.
Their body feels pleasantly tired.
Heavy,
But in the best way.
Satisfied.
As you imagine the cub,
Notice your own body beginning to slow too.
Let's slow things down together.
Breathe in for five.
And breathe out for seven.
Again,
Let's breathe in for five.
And out for seven.
With each longer exhale,
Your shoulders soften.
Your jaw loosens.
And your body understands it is time to rest.
As the sun dips lower,
The forest grows quieter.
Crickets begin their evening song.
The air cools just slightly.
The tiny bear cub feels a gentle pull toward home.
They pad along a familiar path toward a cozy den tucked beneath an old oak tree.
Inside,
The den is warm and softly lit,
Lined with moss,
Leaves,
And thick blankets that smell faintly of honey and wood.
Waiting inside is a loving mama bear.
Large,
Steady,
And calm.
Eyes full of tenderness.
A presence that says without words,
You are safe here.
The cub is greeted with a gentle nuzzle and a low,
Comforting hum.
Before resting,
There is a simple evening snack.
A small wooden bowl holds warm milk with a touch of honey.
Perhaps a few ripe berries,
Sweet and soft.
The cub eats slowly,
Savoring each bite.
Their belly grows warm and full.
Their movements become slower,
Softer.
You might notice your own breath deepen as well.
The mama bear settles into a sturdy rocking chair near the den's entrance.
The chair rocks gently back and forth and forth.
The tiny cub curls up against her chest,
Wrapped in a thick,
Soft blanket.
Held securely,
Effortlessly.
Let's breathe together again.
Breathing in for five.
And breathing out for ten.
Again,
Let's breathe in for five.
And out for ten.
Each long exhale carries you deeper and deeper into comfort.
Your body grows heavier,
Warmer,
At ease.
The mama bear begins to tell a quiet story.
Her voice is low,
Steady,
And rhythmic like the rocking itself.
The words drift like soft leaves on water.
There's no need to follow them.
Just let the sound carry you.
The cubs breathing slows.
Their eyelids flutter.
Their body melts completely into the hold.
The chair rocks.
The den is still.
Nothing can disturb this moment.
You are warm.
You are held.
You are safe.
One final breath in for five.
And out for ten.
The story fades.
The rocking slows.
The tiny bear cub drips fully into sleep.
Deep,
Peaceful,
And protected.
And you may do the same.
There is nothing more to do.
Nowhere else to be.
Just resting.
Floating.
Sleeping.
Good night.
