The Fence At Sunrise

The Fence at Sunrise.

A meditation to meet future you.

Find a quiet space.

Breathe in slowly.

Let your shoulders fall.

Place one hand over your heart.

Imagine golden light gently rising all around you.

You're being held by something ancient and kind.

Ahead of you is a wooden fence,

Worn but strong.

Beyond it,

A homestead bathed in morning gold.

Birds hum gently.

A breeze carries the scent of earth and possibility.

On the fence sits a woman.

You recognize her instantly.

She is you,

But lighter,

Softer,

Glowing.

Her eyes meet yours,

And they sparkle with tears that never had to fall.

She smiles,

The kind of smile that dissolves grief.

She does not speak,

But you hear her anyway.

You've already made it,

She says.

You just forgot for a moment.

She gestures to the field.

You see your children,

Running barefoot in the grass,

Free and laughing.

The air is filled with hope.

In her hands,

Cupped gently,

Is a bumblebee.

Whole,

Alive,

Gentle.

She lifts it toward you.

This is you,

She says.

The bee hovers,

Then lands on your heart.

Its wings hum a healing song.

Let it dissolve the heaviness you carry.

Let it remind you of your own soft power.

The future you smiles again.

She will stay on the fence,

Always ready for you to return.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Wiggle your fingers.

You are safe.

You are home.

You are whole.