Welcome.
Just for a moment,
Imagine yourself at peace.
If that seems a long way from you in this moment,
Don't worry.
It's just imagination.
Free yourself of anticipation and imagine yourself at peace.
Maybe a brief moment of imagination has started you on a path towards peace.
Maybe you need some more help.
Perhaps you'd like to begin by looking inside,
By setting the world aside for a bit.
If you would like to close your eyes to help that shift along,
You might choose to make that closure special.
You might allow your gaze to rest somewhere,
Your eyes to blink naturally.
Let your gaze be soft.
Allow your focus to soften,
Your acuity to fade.
See unclearly.
Notice if your eyes seem to wish to close.
Your upper eyelids might slowly descend to meet the lowers.
A gentle touch,
Eyelid upon eyelid,
Closing out light,
Removing color and shape,
But opening a new world of darkness.
A comforted darkness,
Warm and open.
Might your eyes relax even more without the need to scan and to focus?
Might you with intent relax the six muscles around each eye,
Perhaps feeling your eyeballs rolling a bit away from each other?
If your eyes were open,
Your gaze would be wide,
Panoramic,
Taking in a spacious view.
With eyes closed,
Might your internal gaze be just as expansive,
Seen widely,
Deeply into your periphery.
Perhaps you see black or gray,
Perhaps color or shape,
Perhaps an image emerges,
Some internal apparition.
Let whatever comes guide you on your path to peace.
You might feel coolness around your nostrils as you inhale,
A gentle warming as you exhale.
Allow yourself to indulge in the subtlety of your breathing,
The smell of the air,
Its taste,
The atmosphere of the earth giving freely to you,
Giving the fuel you burned,
Your body just as freely giving back to the atmosphere,
The fuel something else will burn,
A symbiosis of air,
An exchange of life.
Open to this exchange,
This bacchanal of the senses,
Feeling your connection to the planet,
To its life,
Your life,
All life.
You might fully notice through the evidence of your senses this exchange of air,
Might allow that notice,
That apprehension to subsume you.
Let whatever comes guide you on your path to peace.
Your breath comes and goes not by itself but through the movements of your body.
Your belly moves outward,
Pulling your lungs open,
Creating a vacuum inside you.
Your diaphragm drops to invite the air in,
An invitation to life,
A request for filling,
An appeal for you to be swollen with air.
Then with equal subtlety your belly squeezes,
Pushing against your lungs,
Exhausting the air you have used,
The air you have borrowed,
Sending it back to its source,
Another cycle of breath fulfilled.
You might allow your attention to rest with your belly for a time,
With this engine of perpetual movement,
Both sustaining and giving life.
You might notice how you touch whatever is beneath you,
Furniture or floor,
Perhaps grass and dirt and rock.
You are joined to it by your pelvis,
Your seat,
Your base of support.
You are held by strong,
Thick muscles,
Muscles fed by air,
Nourished by blood.
You might notice the points of contact between your body and whatever you are sitting upon.
Is your weight distributed evenly?
Are there particular places that bear more than others?
Might you simply feel the support of your body?
Let you sigh in gratitude for that which holds you up.
Perhaps there is something there you might release,
Might give respite to.
Maybe you don't always consider what holds you up,
What creates the space for your diaphragm to move,
For your breath to flow.
You might allow your attention to rest down there for a bit,
With your mula,
Your base,
Your root.
That which grounds,
Supports,
Creates your foundation.
Let whatever comes,
Guide you on your path to peace.
God Bless!
Your path to peace might dissolve in expansiveness,
In a far-reaching place of peaceful spaciousness.
Everything is present here,
Present in the darkness of your closed eyes that contains all the colors of light.
The delicate touch of the air against your nostrils,
This kiss from the earth.
In this place of peaceful spaciousness is the autonomic movement of your body,
The terrifying consistency of breath after breath after breath,
Heartbeat after heartbeat.
Here also you will find the strength of muscles that support you,
That hold you up.
For a time you might rest in the grace of your own body,
In the peaceful reaches of your mind,
In this space of sovereignty,
Your own Elysian plane.
Your path to peace has brought you here.
Give permission over to your mind and heart to guide you while you are here.
Let them show you what you might need to see.
Set yourself free to roam here at the end of your path to peace.
God Bless!
This expansive place is always here and with practice can always be no more than a cycle of breath distant.
Your strong muscular base of support can be your anchor,
Your mooring to endless green fields.
The physicality of your breath will blow true,
Your true compass.
Your senses will guide you here.
They are your connection between worlds.
Taste of air,
The taste of water,
The taste of bread.
Sight and its internal opposite.
Smell and taste and touch,
Balance.
We might end as we began,
With a considered shift of our eyes,
This time slowly moving towards opening.
You might notice that even knowing your eyes will soon open causes shifts in the muscles around them.
In anticipation of light,
The forecast of color and contour,
Sensory prescience.
You might direct your hooded gaze downward and then allow a small rift to present between upper and lower eyelids.
Might you allow that rift to close for another moment in the comfort of darkness?
Then you might come back for another try,
Granting space for the entry of light.
As you feel ready,
Slowly raise your gaze to receive the wonders that surround you.
Welcome back!
