This is Rasa.
Welcome to tonight's meditation.
Tonight you meet Archangel Raphael.
The healer whose hands carried the green of living,
Growing things.
He has been waiting for you.
And he has prepared something just for you.
A gift shaped for your body and no one else's.
Settle into your bed.
Let the back of your head sink into the pillow.
And feel it cradle the weight of your skull.
Let your shoulders drop away from your ears.
And melt down into the mattress.
Feel the blanket resting over you.
Warm and a little heavy.
Pressing you gently toward rest.
Take a slow breath in through your nose.
Let the air travel all the way down into your belly.
So your stomach rises softly.
Beneath the blanket.
And let it out through your mouth.
Long and slow.
Feeling the day loosen its grip on your jaw.
Your throat.
Your chest.
Breathe in again.
This time,
Feel the cool air at the rim of your nostrils.
And breathe out.
Feeling it leave warm.
Cool in.
Warm out.
Let this be the only thing you do for a moment.
Each exhale lowers you a little deeper into the bed.
A little closer to the soft darkness behind your closed eyes.
Now in that darkness,
A path appears beneath your bare feet.
It is made of smooth,
Dark stone.
Still holding the warmth of the day's sun.
Feel the heat rise into your souls.
As you take your first step forward.
The air here smells of crushed eucalyptus and rosemary,
Green and clean,
And slightly sharp.
The way a garden smells just after rain.
Somewhere ahead,
Water is moving.
A quiet trickle.
Over stone.
The path leads you toward a great house made of glass,
Glowing softly from within,
In the shades of deep emerald and silver green.
This is Raphael's Healing Conservatory.
Through the misted glass.
You can see the silhouettes of tall plants.
Fronds reaching,
Vines curling along the panes.
Reach out.
And rest your palm against the door.
It is warm.
Almost like skin.
It opens at your touch.
Step inside.
The air wraps around you.
Thick and humid and warm.
Carrying the scent of mint and wet earth.
And something sweet beneath it,
Like honey.
Green light filters down through the leaves above and falls across your arms.
Your chest.
Your face.
And where it touches your skin.
You feel a faint,
Pleasant tingling.
The feeling of something tense beginning to soften.
Plants grow everywhere here.
Fed by this healing air.
Broad,
Waxy leaves brush against your shoulders as you walk.
Small fountains spill clear water into stone basins.
And the sound of it.
Loosen something in the center of your forehead.
Walk deeper in.
With each step,
The warmth sinks a little further into your muscles.
Into your hips.
Into the soles of your feet.
And there,
At the heart of the conservatory,
Kneeling among the plants,
Is Raphael.
He is tall.
Even kneeling.
His robe the green of deep forest moss.
His hands are working in the soil.
Tending a low bed of silver-leafed herbs.
And you can see that his fingers carry the same soft green glow that fills this place.
He is not waiting idly.
He is preparing.
He senses you and turns.
His eyes meet yours.
Warm and knowing.
And the calm settles over you.
The calm of being recognized by someone who has known you a long,
Long time.
He rises and comes towards you.
And you notice that the plants lean slightly in his direction as he passes.
The way grass leans toward the sun.
He reaches into the folds of his robe.
And brings out a small stone bowl.
Smooth and round.
Cool in his green-lit hands.
Inside it rests a salve,
The color of new leaves,
Soft and glistening.
He gathered the leaves for this himself.
Choosing the ones that answer to what your body has been quietly carrying.
He holds it now.
So you can see it.
And the scent of it reaches you.
Fresh and herbal.
And cooling.
Like the inside of a crushed mint leaf.
This is for you,
He tells you.
His voice,
Low and slow.
Let it find what is ready.
Lie back now onto a wide bed of soft moss beside him.
Feel it give beneath your weight,
Springy and cool.
Holding the shape of your body.
Raphael dips two fingers into the salt.
And presses them gently.
To the centre of your chest.
Just over your breastbone.
The moment it touches you.
Warmth blooms there.
Green and alive.
Feel it spread outward in slow circles from your sternum.
And then feel it begin to move on its own.
It does not stay where he placed it.
It travels through you,
Searching,
Drawn toward the place inside you that has been quietly asking for care.
Follow it.
Let it lead you to that place.
Maybe the warmth gathers in your shoulders.
Maybe it pulls low in your belly.
Or settles into an old ache in your back.
Or moves up into your throat.
Or rests over your heart.
Wherever it goes,
That is where Raphael's gift is showing you what is ready to be healed.
You do not need to decide.
Your body already knows.
The Solve knows.
And it is showing you now.
Notice where the green warmth has gathered.
Breathe into exactly that place.
As you breathe there.
Feel the warmth begin to warm.
Where there was tightness,
Feel it loosen.
Thread by thread.
The way a clenched fist slowly opens.
Where there was a dull ache.
Feel a cool relief move through it.
Like water finding its way into dry ground.
Archangel Raphael places his glowing hand over the same spot.
Layering his warmth over yours.
And the healing deepens.
Feel it knitting,
Mending.
Softening what has been tense for too long.
This is not happening to you from the outside.
This is your own body remembering how to repair itself.
Woken by the green warmth.
Encouraged by Raphael's hand.
He is not fixing you.
He is reminding your body of something it already knows how to do.
Stay here.
Let the warmth keep working while you speak quietly with him.
With your own healing self.
I am ready to receive this healing.
My body knows the way back to wholeness.
I welcome the repair happening within me now.
I trust.
What is being mended tonight?
Feel the green warmth.
Answer each of these words.
Growing a little brighter.
Sinking a little deeper.
Feel it spread now beyond that one place.
Flowing outward through your whole body.
Down your arms to your fingertips.
Down your legs to your toes.
Up the back of your neck.
Into your skull.
Every part of you bathed in this cooling,
Mending green of Raphael's conservatory.
Breathe slowly here.
Feel the weight of your body.
Pressing into the soft moss.
Feel your chest rise and fall on its own.
Gentle and even.
Feel how much heavier and warmer your limbs have become.
How the healing has left you loose and quiet and cared for.
Raphael kneels beside you once more.
He gathers a single,
Broad leaf.
Large and soft as a blanket.
Still warm from the green light.
And lays it over you from chest to feet.
It settles onto your body with a comforting wave.
Sealing the warmth inside you.
Keeping the healing close as you rest.
Feel it covering you.
Holding you down into the moss.
Holding you here in this place where repair continues.
The healing does not stop when you sleep,
He tells you softly.
And deepens.
While you dream.
Your body will keep mending.
What we have begun.
You will wake lighter than you lay down.
Feel the truth of that settle over you.
The green warmth is no longer something you have to hold or focus on.
It has soaked all the way into you.
It will keep working through the night.
In the quiet hours.
Without any effort from you at all.
Let your breath slow further.
Let the sounds of the trickling water grow distant and soft.
Feel the conservatory begin to dim around you.
The green light fading to a gentle glow.
The scent of mint and earth wrapping around you like the edges of a dream.
Your body is heavy now.
Sinking into the mass.
Into the bed beneath you.
Into the deep.
And welcoming dark.
There is nothing left for you to do.
The healing is happening on its own.
Raphael remains nearby.
His hand resting lightly over the leaf that covers you.
His green light,
Keeping watch.
Let yourself drift.
Each breath carries you a little further down.
A little softer.
A little closer to sleep.
The warmth in your body.
The weight of the leaf.
The quiet of this green and living place.
Sleep now.
And let the mending continue.
You are helmed.
You are cared for.
You are healing,
Breath by breath,
All through the night.
Rest deeply,
Sweet soul.
Raphael's hands are over you until morning.
