Welcome to this guided meditation where we will use the ocean as our inspiration.
I invite you to find a comfortable place either seated or lying down in whatever is your practice.
Settling in.
Allowing your body to soften into the support beneath you.
Lengthening your spine.
Keeping your shoulders away from your ear.
Softening.
Settling in.
Allowing your hands to rest gently.
Palms open or face down.
And just observing your body as you settle in.
And when ready,
Allow your eyes to softly close or soften their gaze.
Let's begin with breath.
I invite you to take a slow,
Natural inhale through your nose.
Boxing.
And then let the exhale flow out through your mouth like a quiet wave going back from shore.
One more time.
Breathing in.
Letting go.
And again.
Breathing in through your nose.
Out through your mouth.
Notice how your breath already knows this rhythm.
The rise.
The fall.
The brief beautiful pause in between.
It has been doing this your entire life.
Steady.
Faithful.
Unhurried.
Just like the ocean.
Now,
I invite you to gently begin to imagine you are walking along a shoreline.
The sand beneath your bare feet is warm from the afternoon sun.
Shifting softly with each step.
Behind you,
Your footprints trace a quiet path.
Ahead of you,
The ocean stretches out to the horizon.
Bathed.
Emerald.
Alive.
The light dances on the surface in a thousand tiny sparks as if the water itself is breathing.
I invite you to find a place to sit where the sand holds you perfectly as if it has been waiting just for you.
You settle in.
Shoulders dropping.
And simply face the water.
Listening.
Observing.
A wave fills slowly offshore.
You can see it gathering.
Falling.
Rising with quiet intention.
It rolls toward you.
Unhurried and certain.
It meets the shore with a long rushing exhale.
And then draws back again with a soft whispering.
This is your breath now.
Inhale slowly as the wave builds and rises.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Hold at the crest.
One.
Two.
Exhale as it retreats.
One.
Two.
Three.
Five.
Again.
Allow the ocean to breathe for you.
Inhaling.
Exhaling.
Rising at the top.
And then exhaling.
Releasing.
Receding.
Returning.
Feeling the sun on your skin.
Is warm and generous.
Asking no judgment.
Asking nothing.
A gentle breeze moves off the water and finds your face.
Your face cool and salted,
Tinged and alive.
Brushing along your face ever so gently.
Breathe it in.
Allow the salt air to cleanse whatever is stale inside you.
Allow it to carry out whatever you no longer need.
Again,
Feeling this gentle breeze off the water.
Moving across your face.
Cool.
Salt.
Alive.
The waves continue their ancient rhythm at your feet.
They've been doing this for longer than memory.
Long before worry existed.
Long before clock.
This shore has received 10,
000 storms.
10,
000 calm mornings.
And still it remains.
Still it opens to receive the next wave.
And the next.
You can be like the shore.
Open.
Receptive.
Unbroken.
Breathe in that strength now.
Inhale the vastness of what stretches before you.
Feeling it expand your chest.
Your ribs.
The space between your shoulders.
Hold it.
Feel how much you can contain.
And then exhale.
Let the wave of your breath wash everything clean on its way.
Letting it go.
Moving out.
The ocean speaks quietly to you now.
You are not separate from this.
You are mostly water.
You carry tides within you.
You have depths that have never been troubled by the surface storm.
Allow yourself to sit with that for a moment.
Beneath whatever has been churning at the surface of your days.
Beneath the noise and the worry and the rushing.
There is a deep still place in you.
Untouched.
As vast and calm as the ocean floor.
Allow your awareness to sink there now.
Down below the thoughts.
Below the plans and the problems.
Down into the deep quiet.
Sinking gently in.
Resting in the stillness.
Breathe out.
Soft as sea foam dissolving on sand.
And stay here a little longer.
The waves keep their faithful rhythm.
The sun moves slowly across the sky.
A seabird calls somewhere in the distance.
And you are here.
Held by the earth.
Warm.
Breathing in time with the oldest rhythm on the planet.
There is nothing to do.
Nowhere to be.
The ocean does not rush it.
So.
Neither do you.
Take in another deep full breath.
Deep and oceanic.
Filling every hidden corner of you.
Holding at the top.
Suspended between world.
And then release in one long rushing exhale.
Give it all back to the ocean.
Gently beginning to return.
Invite you to feel the weight of your hand.
The rise and fall of your chest.
Bringing slow movement to your fingers and toes.
Taking a soft natural breath.
Observing how your body feels.
When you are ready.
In your own time.
If your eyes are closed.
Allow them to softly open.
I invite you to carry the rhythm with you.
When the world feels too loud.
Too fast.
Too much.
Close your eyes.
Or soften the gaze.
And find your breath.
Remember the shore is always there inside you.
Steady and waiting.
The tide always returns.
And so will you.
