Find a comfortable position,
You can be lying down or seated,
Whatever lets your body feel held right now.
Let your eyes close.
Take one breath in through your nose,
And let it go.
Take another,
Slower this time,
And release.
One more,
And this time,
As you exhale,
Let your shoulders drop.
Let your jaw unclench.
Let your hands go soft.
Good,
You're here.
I want you to think for a moment about how long you've been making yourself small.
Not dramatically,
Not in one big moment necessarily,
But in the thousand tiny ways.
The compliment you deflected.
The accomplishment you downplayed.
The mirror you walked past without really looking.
The way you've learned to take up just enough space.
Just enough,
Never too much.
You were taught that this was holy,
That shrinking was sacred,
That the less you claimed for yourself,
The closer you were to God,
To goodness,
To being loved.
I want you to just notice,
Right now,
How that teaching lives in your body.
Where do you feel it?
Maybe it's a tightness across your chest,
A habit of holding your breath,
A slight rounding in your shoulders,
Like you're always bracing to be too much for someone.
Just notice,
No fixing,
Just honesty.
Now take a breath into that place,
Wherever you felt it,
Breathe into it,
Like you're making room,
And as you exhale,
Let it soften just a little.
Bring your awareness to your feet.
Feel the weight of them,
The soles of your feet,
The heaviness of your heels.
If you're lying down,
Feel the backs of your legs,
Your spine,
Against the surface beneath you.
You are held right now,
The earth is doing that,
You don't have to earn it.
Breathe here for a moment.
Let your attention move slowly up your legs,
Your calves,
Your knees,
Your thighs,
Heavy,
Warm,
Resting.
Notice if you're gripping anywhere,
And just give it permission to let go.
Move up into your hips,
Your belly,
Let your stomach be soft.
You don't have to hold it in,
Not here,
Not now.
Feel your ribcage expand with each breath.
Feel how much space your lungs actually want to take up when you let them.
Your chest,
Your heart.
Breathe into your heart for a moment.
Think about how hard that heart has worked.
How much it has loved,
And grieved,
And hoped,
And tried.
How many times it has kept going when everything told it to stop.
That heart is not too much,
That heart is extraordinary.
Let yourself feel that,
Just for a second,
Without talking yourself out of it.
Now bring your attention to your hands.
Turn them palm up if you can.
This is a posture of receiving,
Of openness,
Of saying,
I am here,
And I am worthy of what comes to meet me.
Feel the warmth in your palms.
These hands have worked.
They have held other people,
Built things,
Cleaned things,
Offered things.
They have given so much.
Now I want you to imagine something flowing into them.
Warm and golden,
Like kindle light made liquid.
This is not something you earned.
This is something that belongs to you,
Simply because you exist.
Let it fill your hands.
Let it move up through your wrists,
Your arms,
Your shoulders.
Let it settle in your chest,
Like a hearth fire catching.
This is what it feels like to receive something you didn't have to suffer for.
This is what it feels like when worth isn't conditional.
I want to tell you something,
And I need you to let it land.
Your worth was never the question.
The people who taught you that humility meant disappearing were working from fear.
Their fear,
Not your truth.
Real humility is not self-erasure.
Real humility is knowing exactly who you are and standing in it without apology.
It's the woman who says,
I am good at this.
I am worthy of this.
I am here.
It's honest.
It's clear.
It doesn't perform smallness to make other people comfortable.
You are allowed to be seen.
You are allowed to take up space.
You are allowed to look in the mirror and mean it when you say,
I am divine.
I am here.
I belong to myself.
Let that settle.
Feel where in your body it wants to land.
Maybe it's your throat.
Maybe it's your chest.
Or maybe it's your hands still open in your lap.
Breathe into that place.
Let your awareness come back to your whole body now.
Heavy and warm and held.
Feel the surface beneath you.
Feel the air on your skin.
Take one deep breath in.
And as you exhale,
Let this be your truth for today.
I am not too much.
I never was.
This is worship.
Say it again to yourself silently in your own voice.
I am not too much.
I never was.
This is worship.
One more time.
I am not too much.
I never was.
This is worship.
Take your time coming back.
Wiggle your fingers,
Your toes.
Take a full breath.
And let your eyes open when they're ready.
Carry yourself gently today.
You just did something real.
