Welcome.
You can begin by simply setting the phone down.
Wherever you are,
Seated,
Lying down,
It doesn't matter.
Just give yourself these next few minutes without doing,
Without swiping,
Without scrolling,
Without checking.
Notice,
Without judgment,
The residue of whatever you were just doing.
Maybe it was reading the news,
Flipping between apps,
Searching for something,
Often we're not even sure what,
But the seeking itself becomes compulsive and it's not your fault.
It's simply how attention behaves when untrained.
Like a moth to a flame,
Your attention gets pulled,
Again and again,
Toward novelty,
Toward outrage,
Toward noise.
So in this moment,
We pause.
Feel the body,
The weight of it,
The contact with the chair,
The ground,
The air around you.
Let's take three slow breaths together.
Inhale.
One,
Two,
Three.
Exhale.
One,
Two,
Three,
Four.
One more.
Once more.
And now,
Allow the breath to return to its own rhythm.
There's nothing to control.
Just noticing.
Your mind may still be busy,
Replaying what you saw,
Or anticipating the next thing to check.
That's fine.
But begin to notice this.
Your thoughts are not solid.
They're not commands.
They're clouds.
Passing through a vast open sky.
They arise,
They linger,
And if left alone,
They move on.
What happens when you don't follow the next thought?
What if you could watch the urgency arise without doing anything about it?
This is the beginning of freedom.
From compulsive seeking,
From digital hunger,
From distraction.
Each time you notice a thought trying to tug you back to the feed,
Simply acknowledge it and return.
Not because it's wrong,
But because you're training your mind to stay home.
Let this next few minutes be silent.
You don't need to do anything.
Just sit.
Just breathe.
Just be aware.
As we close,
Notice how you're feeling.
Not how you should feel,
Just how it is.
This stillness is always here.
Beneath the scroll,
Beneath the noise.
And you've remembered that,
Even for just a moment.
You can return any time.