Welcome,
Dear one.
Begin by finding a position that feels nourishing to your body.
Let your hands rest gently,
Palms open ready to receive.
Take a slow breath in through your nose,
And sigh it out through your mouth.
Breathing in calm,
Green light,
And breathing out any heaviness you no longer need to carry.
With each breath,
Feel yourself arriving,
Not rushing,
Not striving,
Simply being.
Now,
Imagine that you are standing at the edge of a garden.
Not a grand garden,
Nor a manicured one,
But a living,
Breathing herb garden,
Grown with patience and care.
The earth beneath your feet is warm and dark.
It smells rich,
Fertile,
Alive.
As you step forward,
You notice the air is different here.
It carries something ancient.
The memory of hands that once tended plants for healing,
Nourishment,
And protection.
Each step draws you deeper into this sacred space.
The garden opens around you.
Rows of herbs spill gently in all directions.
Growing as nature intended.
You recognize them not just by sight,
But by feeling.
Lavender hums softly with calm.
Rosemary sharpens the air with clarity.
Mint cools and refreshes.
Sage carries quiet wisdom.
Lemon balm glows with gentle joy.
Their scents mingle,
Creating a soothing green perfume that settles into your chest.
As you breathe,
Your body responds.
Muscles soften.
The nervous system unwinds.
This garden knows exactly how to meet you.
You walk slowly,
Allowing your fingers to brush the leaves as you pass.
Each plant offers something different.
Not as a demand,
But as an invitation.
You notice that when you touch them,
The leaves feel warm,
Alive,
Responsive.
The garden recognizes you.
Green witch.
Earthwalker.
Keeper of balance.
Ahead,
You see a small wooden bench nestled beneath a young tree.
Its branches cast soft,
Dappled light across the ground.
You sit.
And as you do,
The garden seems to lean in,
Listening.
This is a place where wellness is not forced.
It grows naturally when conditions are kind.
Here,
Nothing must be fixed.
Nothing rushed.
Healing happens in its own rhythm.
Bring your awareness now to your body.
Notice where you feel tired.
Where you feel tight.
Where you feel heavy or depleted.
You do not need to name it.
The garden already understands.
Imagine roots beginning to grow from your body.
From your hips.
Your spine.
Your spine.
Your feet.
Slowly winding down into the earth beneath the herbs.
These roots are gentle.
Not invasive.
They seek nourishment,
Not escape.
As they settle into the soil,
You feel supported.
Held.
The earth receives what you are ready to release.
Now,
Imagine a soft green glow beginning to rise through those roots.
It moves slowly upward like sap.
Steady.
Intentional.
As it reaches your feet,
It brings grounding.
Stability.
A sense of safety.
As it rises through your legs,
It releases tension.
Stiffness.
Fatigue.
Up through your abdomen and chest.
It soothes digestion,
Breath and emotion.
Restoring balance where stress has lingered.
When it reaches your shoulders,
It loosens the weight you've been carrying.
Especially the kind no one else sees.
And as it flows into your neck,
Jaw and face,
Your expression softens.
Your body remembers how to rest.
Above you,
The herbs respond.
Their leaves shimmer slightly,
As if acknowledging the exchange.
You are not taking from the garden.
You are circulating energy.
This is how wellness works in nature.
One plant draws your attention.
Trust this instinct.
Approach the plant gently.
Notice its shape.
Its colour.
Its scent.
This herb has a message for you.
Not in words,
But in sensation.
What does it offer?
Calm.
Strength.
Clarity.
Renewal.
Allow its medicine to meet you exactly where you need it.
Place a hand over your heart.
And imagine the essence of this herb blending with your breath.
With each inhale,
You receive its gift.
With each exhale,
Your body integrates it.
There is no effort here.
Only alignment.
Listen.
You are remembering how to listen.
Sit with this feeling for a few moments.
Let the garden work quietly.
Healing does not announce itself.
It settles in gently like dew on leaves at dawn.
When you are ready,
Thank the herb.
Slowly,
Your roots begin to withdraw from the earth.
Bringing grounded energy with them.
The green glow settles softly within your body.
Staying with you long after this meditation ends.
Take one final look around the garden.
Know that you may return here any time.
In moments of stress,
Fatigue or disconnection.
This garden lives within you.
Begin to notice your breath again.
Your body resting where it is.
Gently wiggle your fingers and toes.
And when you feel ready,
Open your eyes.
Carry the calm of the herb garden with you.
Steady,
Nourishing and alive.
Blessed be.
