Welcome,
Beautiful soul.
You don't need to close your eyes for this journey.
In fact.
.
.
You may want to stay right here.
Present.
Away.
With your body.
Not leaving it again.
Let your gaze rest somewhere neutral.
Nothing special.
Nothing symbolic.
Just here.
Take one slow breath in.
.
.
And exhale.
No fixing,
No correcting,
Just arriving.
Today is not about perfection.
It is about honesty.
There may have been years.
.
.
When you rushed your body,
Ignored its signals,
Dismissed its whispers,
Pushed it when it begged for gentleness.
Not because you were cruel.
But because you didn't know how tender it was.
How loyal.
How patient.
Let that land without defense.
Your body was never the enemy.
It was the one stain.
Even when you left.
You can place one hand on your body anywhere that feels natural.
Chest,
Belly,
Thigh,
Shoulder.
And now,
Without performing… Begin to speak inwardly.
Not from guilt,
From maturity.
Sway I'm sorry for rushing you.
I'm sorry for ignoring you when you asked for rest.
I'm sorry for judging you for not being perfect.
I'm truly sorry for believing my mind knew better than your wisdom.
I'm sorry for asking you to carry pain in silence.
Let each apology be simple,
Clean.
And force.
You're not begging.
You are acknowledging.
There comes a moment for many of us sometimes in stillness sometimes in crisis when the body is quietly open and we finally stop asking it to be anything other than itself There are moments like this.
When the body is no longer being pushed forward.
No longer.
Being corrected.
No longer.
Being asked to endure.
Moments when it's simply here.
Doing what it has always done.
Breathing,
Regulating,
Repairing.
And in those moments,
Something becomes clear.
So much could have been softened if we had listened earlier.
If we had spoken kindly.
.
.
If we had become partners with our body.
Instead of trying to outrun it.
This is not regret.
This is recognition.
Now let the apology slowly turn into gratitude.
Not grand gratitude,
Practical gratitude.
Thank your body for the things it does quietly.
Thank you for breathing when I forget.
Thank you for digesting even when I'm stressed.
Thank you for healing wounds I never saw.
Thank you for carrying me through days I barely survived.
You don't need to feel grateful,
Just speak truth.
Gratitude knows how to arrive on its own.
And now,
Without making promises you can't keep,
Offer your body one new agreement.
Not forever,
Just forward.
Something gentle,
Something doable.
I will pause when you ask.
I will stop cursing you for being human.
I will listen before I push.
I will speak to you as I would to someone I love.
Let your body receive that.
Not as pressure,
But as relief.
Stay right here.
Feel your weight.
Your temperature,
Your presence.
Nothing dramatic needs to happen.
This is not a breakthrough.
It is a repair.
And repair is quiet.
Subtle life changing.
Your body does not need you to be perfect.
It needs you to be kind.
And finally,
Present.
Take one last breath.
And continue your day with your body not ahead of it.