Welcome,
This practice is for moments when life keeps moving,
People keep needing,
The day keeps asking,
And you realize no one is about to pause for you.
So you begin learning how to offer that pause to yourself.
Take a moment to get comfortable.
You can be seated or lying down,
Let the body settle in whatever way that it wants to settle.
You can feel the weight of your hips,
Bring a little awareness to the bottoms of your feet,
Invite your shoulders to drop a little,
And let the palms of the hands rest.
Just take one easy breath in through the nose,
And out through the mouth,
Again breathing in and breathing out.
There are seasons in life when we become very practiced,
Very good at holding things together,
At answering the questions,
At remembering what needs to happen,
So practiced at noticing what no one else notices,
At keeping the day moving,
At being the one who responds,
Who attends,
Who carries and smooths over,
Who solves and adapts.
And over time that can become so normal that we don't always realize what it costs.
Not in a dramatic way,
Not all at once,
But in these quiet ways,
Like in the tightness in the body,
In the feeling of always being a little bit on,
In the way the mind keeps going even when the room is quiet,
And in the way you can start to feel more like a function than a person.
And lately I've been thinking about one very ordinary moment,
It's a moment in the middle of the day when I pull back the covers,
Lie down,
Pull those covers over me,
And take a few minutes to myself.
It's not to sleep,
And it's not because everything's fallen apart and no one has given me the permission to take off for a few minutes,
But just because somewhere in me I can feel that I need a moment where nothing is being asked of me.
A moment where the coolness of the fabric of my blanket meets my skin,
Where my feet are tucked into the folds of the blanket,
Where my body can have one small breath before I stand back up and go back to being useful again.
And what I've been realizing is that this small moment matters,
Because it really isn't about the blanket,
It's about the pause.
It's about what happens when I stop waiting for someone else to notice what I need,
And I begin noticing it for myself.
It's about being aware of the quiet signals of my own body,
Those signals that say I need a minute,
I need softness,
I need less pressure,
I need to stop bracing just for a moment,
I need to remember that I exist inside my life too.
Take a slow breath in through your nose,
And as you exhale,
Let yourself feel the truth of that in your own way.
Maybe your ordinary moment isn't in bed,
Maybe it's sitting in a chair by the window,
Or those few extra minutes in the shower,
Or maybe it's standing at the sink with warm water over your hands,
Or a breath in the car,
Or a cup of tea before the day asks more of you.
The moment itself may be small,
But the meaning of it is not.
Because these small moments are often where we begin to return to ourselves.
And it's not by leaving our lives,
Not by becoming someone else,
Not by suddenly having no responsibilities,
But by saying,
Even quietly,
I am here too.
My body is here too.
My needs matter,
My inner life matters.
Take another breath in through your nose,
And a longer breath out,
And I invite you to gently bring your awareness inward to the body.
Noticing the places that feel like they might be still on duty.
Maybe it's the forehead,
Bring your awareness to your forehead,
The eyes,
All of the muscles behind the eyes,
Maybe it's the jaw,
Bring your awareness down to your throat,
And the muscle of the mind,
The chest,
The belly,
The shoulders,
Just notice the places that feel like they're still on,
Doing the work.
There's no need to force a sensation,
Just allow your awareness to notice all the places.
Take a breath in,
And let your exhale linger.
You might say silently to yourself,
For this moment,
I do not have to carry it all.
Inhaling,
And on your exhale saying to yourself,
For this moment,
I do not have to carry it all.
Notice how those words land in your body.
Take a breath in through your nose,
And as you exhale,
Allow one small layer of effort to leave the body.
Again,
Inhale,
And exhale,
Inviting the muscles of the face to soften,
Inhaling,
And exhaling,
Inviting the shoulders to drop just a tad more,
And for a moment,
Might you imagine yourself stepping out of the current of the day,
Just for a moment,
Just now,
And imagine a room that belongs to stillness,
A bed in the middle of the day,
A soft place to land,
A quiet pause,
Notice the bed,
The textures,
Notice the quality of light in this room.
Notice if you hear any sounds,
Maybe there's a window,
I invite you to lie down in this bed,
Hold the covers up over yourself,
And feel the coolness of the fabric,
The gentle weight of the blanket,
And the way the body begins to understand that for this moment,
Nothing is being demanded of it.
Take one long,
Glorious inhale,
And a long,
Honest exhale,
And stay there for a moment in your imagination,
Not as an escape,
But as a return.
Feel the body being held,
Feel the nervous system recognizing that even a small act of care can matter.
Feel what it is like to stop collapsing inward,
To let yourself soften,
To widen,
To take up space and receive.
Take a breath in,
And as you exhale,
Might you say to yourself,
I am allowed to take up space in my own life.
And on the exhale,
I am allowed to take up space in my own life.
And notice how your body takes that in.
Maybe it's relief,
Maybe resistance,
Maybe sadness,
Maybe a quiet yes.
Let whatever is here be here.
It's a small act of self-return,
A small act of refusing to appear.
It's a small act of care in the middle of a full and imperfect life.
Take another easy breath in.
Ask yourself,
What has been asking for care within me lately?
Not what needs fixing,
Not what would make everyone else more comfortable.
What in you has been asking for care,
For tenderness,
For love?
And then ask,
What is one small way I can meet that need?
Not ideally,
Not beautifully,
Just honestly.
Maybe it's rest,
Less pressure,
Asking for help,
Saying no to something small or lying down for five minutes under the covers.
Maybe it's one hand on your heart before you continue.
Whatever comes,
Let it be here.
Look around at this beautiful room of stillness again.
Notice one thing here.
One thing that feels important.
And when you're ready,
You can slide out from under the covers.
Come back into your body.
Take a meaningful breath into your body through your nose.
Feel the spaciousness as your body responds to that inhale.
Sigh it out through an open mouth.
Inhaling into your lower belly.
Open your mouth and sigh it out.
You might wiggle your fingers or your toes.
Blink open your eyes.
You might put a hand on your heart.
Might say to yourself,
I am held,
Softened and fully here.
Even when no one else pauses for you in the moment.
You can still learn to pause for yourself with love.
It's not selfish.
It's not failure.
It's not weakness.
It is a way back to yourself.
Namaste.
