Here,
There is nothing to do,
Nothing to solve,
Nothing to remember.
The body is already resting on something solid,
Supported,
Held.
Breath moves in its own quiet rhythm,
In,
No need to change it,
No need to follow it closely,
Just the simple fact of breathing,
Happening.
The weight of the body begins to soften downward,
Shoulders ease,
Jaw loosens,
The space behind the eyes grows quiet.
Each part of the body is invited to rest in its own time,
In its own way.
Nothing is rushed,
Nothing is forced,
The day has already been lived,
Every moment that needed attention has passed,
Thoughts may still appear like distant lights,
Slowly dimming,
They do not need answers now,
They do not need action,
This time belongs only to rest.
Awareness begins to widen and soften,
Edges blur,
Words become less important,
Breath becomes slower,
Quieter,
Almost unnoticeable,
The body remembers how to sleep,
It has done this before,
Many times,
Nothing more is needed,
From here guidance becomes quieter,
More space,
More stillness,
If sleep comes,
It comes,
If it takes time,
That is also fine.
The night is long,
There is plenty of room,
Rest continues on its own.
