This practice is for those who hold space for others in hospitals,
Emergency services,
Therapy rooms.
When your nervous system has been trained to stay on,
Noticing,
Anticipating,
Staying alert to keep others safe,
It can be hard to turn it off.
Right now you don't need to be on watch,
On shift.
For the next few minutes you can be off duty.
Let's begin.
If you're here,
You might notice your body still feels a little on.
You might have just finished a shift or you've been home for hours and something still feels on.
Alert.
Ready.
Scanning.
That's vigilance.
It's kept you good at what you do.
It's kept you sharp,
Responsive,
Reliable.
It's probably kept people safe.
You hold people's care,
Their lives,
Their safety in your hands.
That's not a small thing.
But right now you don't need to be on watch.
Not for the next few minutes.
So let yourself settle wherever you are.
Sitting,
Lying down,
However feels comfortable.
Notice how your body wants to be here.
And throughout this practice,
You're invited to move,
Adjust,
Settle differently whenever you need to.
You always have choice.
Let the body land.
You might take a breath if it feels okay.
Nothing forced.
Just letting your body know you're here.
And for now,
We're going to practice something your nervous system might not do very often.
Standing down.
Going off shift.
No longer on call.
Not forever.
Just for a few minutes.
Just enough to let your body remember it's allowed to rest.
And as we begin,
I'm going to invite you to check in gently with your body.
Is there a sensation present right now?
Maybe it's discomfort,
Tension,
Pain.
Maybe it's something in your gut.
Tightness in your chest.
A headache.
Or something else.
Whatever's here,
Just notice it.
Not trying to change it.
Not trying to fix it.
Just letting it be known.
And if there's nothing specific,
That's okay,
Too.
You might begin by noticing where you're sitting or lying.
The contact beneath you.
The chair.
The couch.
The bed.
Supporting you.
You don't have to hold yourself up right now.
Something else is doing that.
And you might notice your hands.
Where they're resting.
What they're touching.
Not working.
Not doing.
Just here.
If it feels okay,
You might let your shoulders drop.
Even slightly.
Not forcing anything.
Just allowing a little more settling down.
Like taking off a heavy pack that you didn't realize you were still carrying.
And now,
Gently,
Just notice if there's a part of you that's still listening.
Still scanning the room.
The sounds.
The environment.
For what might need attention.
That part,
It's doing what it was trained to do.
And it's good at it.
But just for now,
You can let it know there's nothing urgent here.
No emergency.
No crisis.
No one depending on you in this moment.
You can be off-duty.
Off-shift.
No longer on-call.
If it feels okay,
You might take a slightly longer exhale.
Breathing in and letting the breath out.
Just a little slower.
Like a quiet signal to your system that you're safe enough to soften.
You might notice your jaw.
Is it holding?
Clenched?
Even slightly?
If it is,
You can let it soften.
Just a little.
Teeth don't need to touch.
Tongue can rest easy.
And your eyes,
If they're open,
You might let them gently orient to the room.
Noticing the cues of safety in your own space.
Not looking for anything.
Not tracking.
Just seeing what's here.
Or if they're closed,
Let them stay soft behind the lids.
Sometimes when you've been trained to notice everything,
The body forgets that it's okay to let things blur.
To stop scanning.
To just be.
And now,
I'm going to invite you to check in again with that sensation,
If it's still there.
Has it changed at all?
Is it the same?
Softer?
Louder?
Just noticing.
No judgment.
And if a part of you resists this,
If something in you says,
I can't let my guard down,
That's okay.
You don't have to overwrite it.
Just let it be there,
Alongside the part that's trying to rest.
Both can exist.
The hypervigilance,
It's helped you survive.
It helped you serve.
But it doesn't have to run the whole show right now.
You might imagine,
Just lightly,
That your nervous system has permission to stand down.
Just for these few minutes.
Not shutting off completely.
Just softening.
Easing back.
Like dimming a light that's been on high for too long.
And you might notice what happens when you let yourself be held by the chair,
By the bed,
By the ground beneath you.
By this moment that doesn't require anything from you.
You don't need to fix anything.
You don't need to anticipate anything.
You don't need to be ready for anything.
Right now,
You can just rest.
And you might begin to notice signs of ease.
Maybe it's a softening somewhere.
A little more space in the breath.
A quieting in the chest.
Or maybe it's just the absence of urgency.
For a moment.
Whatever it is,
Let yourself notice it.
And if your mind pulls you back into whatever you need to do later,
Or what happened earlier,
That's okay.
Gently returning.
To contact.
To support.
To the breath.
To right here.
This isn't about doing rest perfectly.
It's just about letting your body have a few minutes where no one needs you.
Where you're off the clock.
Off duty.
Just here.
Let the body soften even a little.
Let the vigilance ease even slightly.
Let yourself be held.
And now,
Before we finish,
I'm going to invite you to check in one more time.
Notice what's different now.
Maybe something shifted in your body.
Or maybe it didn't.
Maybe the sensation is still there.
Or maybe it's changed.
Maybe you feel more settled.
Or maybe you just feel more aware.
Whatever's true,
It's okay.
And when you're ready,
You can come back to your day.
You can turn back on.
But for now,
You showed up for yourself.
And that matters.
