Welcome to your practice today.
My name is Shanna Moyer-Semenyay and I have the pleasure and honor of leading you in a heart-centered practice wherein we will write letters to ourselves.
If you've taken any of my live classes here at Insight Timer,
You will know that letter writing is one of my favorite tools to use.
It helps us get in touch with the former versions of ourselves that need some compassion,
Need some love,
Need some healing in a way that only we can extend to ourselves.
So to get ready,
Find yourself on the pages of a journal,
A blank piece of paper with something to write with.
Close the windows of your eyes,
Placing hands over hearts,
Breathing in your own natural rhythm,
And starting to listen.
If you could go back to a moment in time,
A moment when maybe you felt less than,
You felt unheard,
Discarded,
Alone,
And afraid,
What is it that you would say to yourself?
There are so many twists and turns on our path,
So many forks in the road,
Decisions to make.
Which way do you go?
Standing there confused,
Alone,
Afraid.
If you could reach out and take that former version of yourself by the hand,
What would you say?
What are the words that you would write into a letter?
Here are some of my words.
My dearest you,
This is for the version of you nearly 15 years ago.
You're going to be tested in the years to come.
I'm going to turn into a version of myself that you don't know,
That you would rather not know,
And I'm sorry for the chaos that is going to ensue.
I'm sorry for every ugly word that will come out of my mouth.
I want you to know it's not you.
These aren't true words from my heart.
These aren't actually the things that I think of you,
Or of us.
You're going to be tested,
And I want you to know that I am going to need you to be my rock.
I won't make it through without you,
And we will get to the other side.
The version of you 15 years ago is a very different person from the one that stands beside me as I write this to you now.
You have no idea what's coming,
And you also have no idea how strong you are both for you and me.
I love you.
S.
If you can write to yourself 15 years ago,
15 years from now,
What would those words say?
Standing there alone,
Confused,
Quiet and small and afraid,
The weight of your words echoed through your heart.
What would you say?
Taking a deep breath in and out before opening the windows of your eyes.
There on that blank piece of paper,
There on the pages of your journal,
Write to your dearest you.
Say the words that they need to hear,
That they need to remember,
In the way that only you can.
The music will play for the next several minutes,
And I encourage you to just pour it all out.
Every single word,
Every single feeling,
It all has value in your own story.
So write that story now,
In these moments of quiet,
When you're allowed time and space to actually listen to yourself.
I hope you hear.
I hope you listen.
I hope you understand that the stories that you carry and can write in these letters to former and future versions of yourself have weight.
They're important.
These letters of anger and hate intermixed with love and hope,
They're important.
They sit here marinating in the same waters.
These letters coexist,
Just as the parts of you do.
You can be both angry and soft,
Both loving and tired,
Both wounded and defiant.
The two parts of you coexist within the same being,
Alongside your memories,
At the same time.
You are both angry and soft,
Both loving and tired,
Both wounded and defiant.
Let it all come to the surface.
Each word that you have written today is important.
Each word that you will write tomorrow is important.
Let these letters come to the surface.
Let them find home on the pages in your journal,
An outpouring of love to yourself,
By yourself.
Return here any time that you need a simple reminder that you exist,
That you can be both,
And that you're important.
