Let's begin with a bell.
Simply settling down,
Giving up,
Giving in,
Quitting on the life that was a moment ago,
Setting it aside at the very least.
At no point in meditation should you expect your thoughts to cease.
That phenomenon is actually death.
You want your neurons to be working.
You'll get distracted.
You'll get bored and daydreamy.
That's totally okay.
That's just as good for your health and your default mode network,
The term for the neuropsychological constellation of brain parts that are responsible for rambling.
So let yourself settle in and ramble.
Engage in reverie or daydream.
Maybe you start to feel light.
Maybe your body gets heavy and falls into gravity,
Into the chair or couch or bed where you find yourself.
Part of the effort of meditation is just to use less effort.
To let gravity take over,
Not to resist.
To spend a few minutes enjoying the moment,
Savoring.
It doesn't have to be fancy.
It doesn't have to be weird or esoteric or hard.
Meditation can be fun.
It can be boring.
It can be silly.
But don't judge yourself that you could be doing it wrong.
That is not possible.
You're doing it right already.
And the question,
The invitation is,
Can you be more relaxed?
Can you be more still,
More profoundly quiet?
Can you go deeper inward?
Or more attentively outward?
Just attuning to and joining in with what you need right now.
And when you feel regrets about the past or fantasies and anxieties about the future,
As we all do,
Just come back.
Find your body.
Find your breath.
Listen to my voice.
Whatever becomes a good cue for you to return to this moment.
And again to this moment.
And again to this moment.
No pressure.
Just doing.
Just being.
Sitting heavy,
Slowing down.
Deepening your inhale,
Slowing your exhale,
And beginning to use your breath to release parts of your body that are tight or agitated.
You could wiggle,
You could stretch,
Or yawn,
Or exhale on the ancient biblical word,
Sela.
That's all you need to do.
We'll just sit and breathe for a few moments.
Noticing and casting a generous awareness around your body.
What's going on?
Physically,
Emotionally,
Emotionally?
Spiritually.
You may have words for it.
Just sensations.
Maybe not even that.
Just an awareness that you might be tired or tense.
Happy or excited.
Leaning forward,
Pulling back.
Showing yourself compassion.
This meditation is about healing from spiritual tiredness.
Whether that's lack of faith or despair.
Anxiety,
Burnout.
Whatever words you might give to spiritual tiredness.
That weariness we feel inside.
A lack of connection with something greater,
Something deeper.
Dislocation.
If at any point during this meditation you need to cry,
That would be great.
Let it out.
You'll feel better through it.
Maybe you need to laugh.
Laughter and tears are great gateways towards the divine.
We all get lost in wilderness,
Unmoored at sea,
Estranged from our true nature.
Alienated from what many have called God.
It's part of the human condition,
Time to time,
Sometimes for long stretches.
It is necessarily painful and scary.
Could you give yourself the grace to accept that you could be spiritually tired,
Weary,
And uncertain.
And that faith comes and goes and is broken and reconstructed.
As is the nature of faith.
Breathing into those possibilities that are fearful and sad and even a little optimistic.
Filled with potential for regrowth and even rebirth.
Just attuning to what is and what could be.
Beginning to listen to the world singing.
The panoply of sounds,
Birds and cars and breezes,
The whirring of machines,
The settling of homes and businesses.
Maybe you can hear a squirrel or a chipmunk if you listen really carefully.
The Talmud says that over every blade of grass an angel whispers,
Grow,
Grow.
As you breathe,
Listening to all those noises,
Polyrhythms,
The different sounds.
Perhaps all of it together is the symphony of the universe.
What you might think of as God's voice singing to you and calling to you and wishing you to grow.
Loving you into a deeper existence.
And let that energy in and let it pull you out.
Out of burnout and towards creativity.
Breathing deeply,
Just drawing it all in.
Exhaling slowly,
Stretching,
Wiggling,
Coming back always when you're distracted again and again.
Because your brain is alive and functioning and it will be distracted.
Thank goodness for your brain.
Thank goodness for a world that is calling to you and singing you into life.
Like the muses.
Drawing it in with your breath.
Letting it flow through you with the exhale.
Maybe the spiritual tiredness dissipates a few percent,
A tiny bit.
It doesn't have to go away.
You can make peace with spiritual tiredness from time to time.
It's normal and healthy.
When you're breathing,
Giving yourself compassion to your body,
Your mind,
Your emotions,
Your spirit.
Just loving self.
Continuing to breathe.
Staying slow,
Staying easy.
Feeling heavy and maybe your mind's a little light and drifting,
Roving and rambling.
That's good.
Beginning to turn your attention inward and attuning to your deepest parts,
Your core,
Your spirit,
Your soul,
Whatever word you might use comfortably.
Listening.
Just as the world is singing to you and wishing you into existence,
There is within you a delicate and still and small voice.
See if you can breathe for that.
To engender the holiness that's within you.
The small voice,
The spiritual motive force,
It's always there.
You may lose sight of it,
But it is never gone.
Breathe for that.
Listen.
Attune to that voice within you and the symphony and voice without you.
All around and all the way inside.
And release.
Let go.
You are loved.
You are loved.
You are cared for by the universe and through yourself.
Breathe into that unending compassion and faith.
Sitting with love.
Blessings.
