Hi,
I'm Fiona.
This meditation is called You Don't Have To Be Okay Right Now and it was created for the part of you that's trying to hold it together even when everything feels too much.
It's for the soul who shows up anyway,
Who keeps moving,
Keeps caring,
Keeps coping even when you're breaking a little inside.
You might be the strong one,
The dependable one,
The one others lean on and maybe no one's ever said to you,
You don't have to be okay today,
Not with me.
This meditation is your permission.
It's your permission slip to unravel softly,
Gently and without judgment.
There's no pressure here.
No need to fix anything.
Just a space for your heart to rest and your breath to slow.
So if it feels right,
Take a deep breath.
Let yourself land.
And when you're ready,
We'll begin.
Let yourself settle into a posture that feels right for your body.
There's no need to brace.
No need to fix your breath.
Just land.
If your body feels heavy or tired or like it's been holding tension for far too long,
That's okay.
You're not doing it wrong.
You don't need to show up in any particular way here.
There's nowhere to get to,
Nothing to perform,
Nothing to prove.
If you notice your shoulders clenching,
Your jaw gripping,
Or your stomach feeling tight,
See if you can let it soften just a little.
Not perfectly,
Just enough.
Let your breath come as it wants to.
Let your body arrive however it is.
You don't have to be calm to be here.
You don't have to be okay to be welcome.
This is a space where you get to be held.
And not because you've earned it,
But because you need it.
And right now,
That's enough.
Just you,
Just as you are.
In this breath,
In this moment.
If it feels right,
You can gently close your eyes now.
We'll begin together.
You don't have to be okay right now.
I know that's hard to hear.
Maybe even harder to believe.
But I want to say it again.
Slowly,
So your nervous system has time to catch it.
You don't have to be okay right now.
I see how much you've been trying.
How much you've held together when you were falling apart inside.
I see the brave face you wear.
At work,
With family,
Even with the people who love you.
I know the quiet dread that creeps in when you wake up.
Already feeling behind.
Already carrying too much.
I know the sharpness when something tiny goes wrong and you explode or shut down or cry in the bathroom and then feel ashamed for not holding it together.
I know that moment when you scroll through messages wondering who you could text.
But deciding no one would really get it.
I know the ache of keeping it all going when you secretly wish someone would notice,
Would ask,
Would hold you for once.
Maybe you're the strong one.
The helper.
The fixer.
And maybe no one ever told you that you're allowed to fall apart too.
Not because you're weak,
But because you're human.
And because even strong souls need space to unravel before they begin again.
You don't have to be okay right now.
Not here.
Not with me.
Not in this moment.
There's a reason this feels so hard.
And it's not because you're broken.
It's because you've been carrying more than most people see.
It's because you've been pushing through moments where your whole system was whispering,
Please stop.
It makes sense that you're tired.
It makes sense that you're emotional,
Overwhelmed or numb.
You are not doing life wrong.
You are someone who's been holding up the weight of two or three or ten versions of yourself.
The mother.
The partner.
The peacekeeper.
The planner.
The leader.
The listener.
And maybe somewhere along the way,
You stopped asking yourself what you needed.
Maybe you stopped asking altogether.
What happened?
When did your own needs become something to ignore or hide?
Was there a time when things felt easier?
Lighter?
More connected?
What happened to that softness?
What happened that made you shield your heart?
What happened that made you feel safe?
And now,
When someone asks,
Maybe you don't even know how to answer.
What do you need?
Because you've been holding space for everyone else for so long that you lost track of what's yours.
Your rest.
Your joy.
Your longing.
They're still in there.
And they matter.
You are not too much.
You are not too sensitive.
You are not weak.
You are someone whose strength has been mistaken for capacity.
And the truth is,
Even the strongest among us deserve to collapse sometimes.
And to be met with softness,
Not shame.
If you're here,
Still breathing,
Still showing up,
Then please know you're not failing.
You're surviving.
And even in this moment,
You are already enough.
If it feels okay,
I'd like to invite you into a small inner moment.
A quiet meeting with a part of you that's been working hard.
You might imagine her,
Or them,
As the strong one.
The one who holds it all together.
The one who keeps the mask on.
The one who steps up.
You might see her standing tall.
Or a little bit of a smile.
Or exhausted,
Embracing for impact.
Or simply doing what she's always done.
Keeping everything from falling apart.
If you're willing,
Gently walk toward her.
Not to fix her.
Not to silence her.
But to speak to her.
You might say something like,
Thank you.
You've been incredible.
You've carried so much.
You've protected me.
But right now,
It's okay to rest.
Notice how she responds.
Maybe she resists.
Maybe she sighs.
Maybe she doesn't know how to stop.
And that's okay.
You might place a hand over your heart.
And offer her something gentle.
You don't have to be okay right now,
Either.
You don't have to keep going just for everyone else.
Let's be not okay together for a moment.
Let her soften.
Let her lean.
Let her be held.
She's done enough.
You've done enough.
And right here,
Right now,
Nothing else is needed.
Just a breath.
Just a moment.
Just this moment.
Let these final moments be gentle.
There's nothing you need to do.
Nothing to hold.
Nothing to figure out.
Just let the quiet settle in your body.
Like a warm blanket.
Let your shoulders stay soft.
Let your breath stay easy.
And if the world outside begins to call again,
Know that you can come back here to this breath,
To this softness,
To this knowing that you are allowed to not be okay.
Not every day has to be a strong day.
And not every version of you needs to be held together.
You're not failing.
You're human.
And you are already enough.
I'll be right here when you need me again.
I hope this meditation landed with you in the way you needed it to.
I hope you feel just a little more seen,
A little more softened,
A little more you.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for showing up.
You did something beautiful by pausing.
Let that be enough.
