We're going to begin by either closing our eyes,
Or if that doesn't feel comfortable,
Allow our eyes to find a place where they can rest and gently unfocus.
Take a moment to notice your body as it is,
Letting go of any judgment,
Simply noticing.
We'll begin with slow,
Deep breathing.
With your next inhale,
Allow the air to enter slowly through your nose,
Filling your lungs completely,
Holding it for just a moment,
And then gently exhaling through your mouth,
Letting everything soften.
Breathing in deeply,
And breathing out fully,
Releasing any tension you may be carrying.
As your breathing returns to its natural rhythm,
Begin to notice the ways in which you are being held,
Bringing your awareness to the places where your body meets the space around you.
The textures,
Any pressure,
The temperature.
Notice if you need to shift to be a little more comfortable,
And gently do so now,
Letting your body make the small adjustments it needs.
Now bring your awareness to the support beneath you,
Feeling how it receives your full weight without any effort on your part.
Imagine how that support extends downward through floorboards,
Concrete,
Sand or soil,
Through layers of earth and stone and water,
Down into ground that has known centuries of living and dying,
Planting and harvesting,
Gathering and letting go.
You are supported by something steady and enduring,
And held by something older and wider than this single moment.
This land that has held people in this way for thousands of years.
It has held those who have been in relationship with this place long before us.
Their footsteps,
Stories,
Grief,
Celebration,
Prayer and care across generations.
As you rest here in this moment,
In this place,
Allow yourself to feel a part of that long story of being held.
Now gently bring your attention to sound,
Noticing what you can hear within the space you are in,
Taking a moment to pick up those quieter sounds that hum beneath life unnoticed.
Now extend your awareness to the sounds beyond your immediate space,
Letting them come and go without needing to label or judge them.
Start to notice the air around you and the way it touches your skin,
Its temperature,
Its humidity or dryness,
Its movement or stillness.
When you next inhale,
Notice the coolness of the air entering your body.
And as you exhale,
Feel the warmth of your body returning to the world around you.
You receive and you give back.
Breathing in,
Breathing out.
Breathing in through your nose,
Extend your awareness to what you can smell,
Allowing yourself to settle on each scent for a moment.
Now take a moment to breathe a little deeper,
Reaching for those subtle scents in the air around you.
Taking a slightly fuller breath in,
Let the air brush against the inside of your nose and throat.
And take a moment to notice any taste lingering in the back of your throat,
On your tongue.
Following your breath down into your lungs,
Notice the way your body shifts and adjusts to accommodate it.
Now gently turn inward.
Without forcing anything,
Notice where you might be holding a place of stillness within your body today.
It can be really small,
Even just a speck,
And there is no right place for it to be.
Begin to breathe gently into that still space.
As you breathe into that stillness,
Notice how it is not separate from the stillness of the land beneath you.
Rest here for a few breaths.
As you continue to breathe into your stillness,
Begin to imagine your eyes opening the way the sun rises,
A soft glow at the horizon,
A widening of light,
So slowly and gradually.
And when you are ready,
Allow your eyelids to gently lift,
Letting light return at its own pace,
Noticing what comes into view at each level of opening,
Letting your eyes receive the world again just as it is.
Take your time,
Allowing your awareness and presence to slowly return to this room and this space.
Namaste.
Namaste.
