Welcome dear one.
Wherever you are,
However you arrived here today.
You are well.
Drop the weight.
Of your body and let your body find.
Its place of comfort.
Whether you wish to lie down or sit.
Or lean into whatever holds you.
Let the ground beneath receive.
You'll wake.
If you have been caring.
Too much.
Perhaps for these few moments.
You don't have to.
Close your eyes and let's begin with one deep breath together.
Breathe in… pray there.
And release.
There is a word from the ancient yogic tradition and the word is Sandhya.
Sandhya means a junction.
The place where one thing meets another.
The hour between night and day.
The breath.
Between.
The inhale.
And the exit.
We just crossed the threshold.
Of the outer equinox.
With a full moon.
FAT NIGHT the light and the dark.
Were held in perfect balance.
Just for a moment.
Right before the year.
Dips toward.
The darkness.
We are standing at the hinge.
Of the year.
Feel into that.
And let's remember.
How we are exactly.
Where we are meant to be.
In this moment.
In our environment.
And time.
And space.
Notice your breath.
Notice how it arrives.
Through the nostrils.
And how it goes.
Without any effort from you.
Also notice the tiny stillness.
At the end of each exhale.
A quiet doorway where the breath turns around.
That too is a Sandhya.
You have been passing through thresholds your whole life.
You know how to do this.
As you softly Relax the eyelids.
Over the eye.
Let yourself.
Imagine the trees.
Make all.
How the colors of the leaves begin to turn.
The tree draws its life back from the leaves,
Back through the branches,
Back down into the root.
Into the door.
Azir gathering.
Or journey.
Letting go of everything.
That is not essential.
Anymore.
The leaves.
Having given all they had to give.
Throughout summer and spring.
Thou shine in a blaze of color.
Going down.
As if.
In a blaze of glory.
What a way to let go.
Nothing in nature apologizes for this turning.
Nothing in nature says I should hold on to summer.
I should hold on to the green leaves.
Or I should be doing more.
Nature.
Proudly displays her colors.
As the seasons shift.
Losing the green.
For the bright red.
And just as.
Mother Nature.
Turns back to words.
The Photon Earth.
The whole world,
Too,
Is turning inward.
And we are part of that turning.
So let your attention travel inward now.
Away from the noise,
Away from the doing.
And down into the quiet room.
Within you.
They're part of you.
That is untouched.
By all the happenings around you.
Part of you that doesn't get influenced.
It observes.
That watches.
That knows it has come here to experience life.
Feel the rise and the fall of your belly.
As the breath travels in.
Feel the weight of your hands.
As they rest upon the surface.
Feel the soft.
Steady pulse.
Of your one.
Precious life.
You who have been so faithful.
To all that is outside.
The season is asking you to be faithful.
To your own inner self.
Let the year come and sit beside you.
Not to judge it.
Simply.
To observe it.
Think of all that this year has held,
All that you have moved through.
All that you have met.
That you have faced and tended.
You may notice how we have learned to measure our lives in achievements,
What we've done,
What we've built.
What we've crossed off.
But there is so much more.
That never appears on that list.
Such as the warnings you got her.
When it was hard to get out of bed.
The words that you did not let yourself utter.
In anger.
The grief that you carried quietly in your heart.
The love that you gave.
And no one's soul.
Let all of it be countered.
Because all of it matters.
And what is unfinished.
Look at it gently.
Some things are not meant to be finished.
Some things are seeds still resting in the dark.
Still in the process of becoming.
We cannot force them to open.
We have to let them be.
And let them bloom.
When the time is right for them.
And now,
Way out on the horizon.
Notice what is rising.
New mountains,
New coral lakes.
Perhaps something you can't name yet.
You don't need to climb them today.
You only need to notice that they are there.
And that you to your one you are still walking.
Bring your hands to your heart.
Or just feel your heart from within and ask softly.
The way you would ask someone you love.
What do I need?
Don't reach for the answer.
Wait.
Let it rise on its own.
Maybe you need rest.
Maybe you need to be held.
Maybe you need silence or tenderness.
Worthy with nothing asked of you.
Maybe you need permission to slow down.
Was ever came.
Let it be true.
Your needs are not too much.
They are not a weakness.
They're the voice of your life asking to be heard.
And awesome.
Autumn is the season that's seized.
Yes.
Yes,
I hear you.
I hear you.
Rest.
So go ahead and silently.
Repeat after me.
I am allowed to slow down.
I am allowed to turn inward.
I am allowed to care for myself.
I am my garden.
And I am tending to my garden.
Feel yourself.
As the Earth in autumn.
Soft.
And safe.
Held by the turning of the yoke.
Something in you is preparing you.
Something is being quietly made ready.
You don't have to know what just yet.
You only.
Have to rest and trust the photon darkness.
Take a deeper breath now.
And let the breath widen you.
Feel your feet,
Feel your hands.
Feel.
The room around you.
Know that this quiet place is always here.
Even in the middle of your busiest day.
Come back to your breath.
Come back to the practice.
Come back.
To this place of safety.
Within.
From here.
Let yourself be guided.
Aziz.
On a cloud.
Feel.
A deep sense of restfulness.
In your mind.
And your body,
Your spinal column.
Your hips,
Your legs.
And also your heart.
And carry a sense of peace with you.
When you return to the world.
And you attend.
To that outwardness.
There is a place within.
That is untouched.
Deeply peaceful.
And always in harmony.
Even.
With the shifting seasons.
