Hey.
Welcome.
You made it.
We're closing the day now.
Not slamming a door,
Just letting it click shut on its own.
This isn't about escape.
It's a return.
Back to you.
Beneath a thinky layer.
Back to the quiet place that doesn't need a to-do list to exist.
Okay.
Let's start simple.
Your eyes can close.
Or not yet.
If they want to,
Let them.
Let your body land.
Zero effort.
Gravity's got you.
Your bed's already doing the heavy lifting.
You in the mattress can blur at the edges.
No need to figure out who's who.
Just let it all blur.
We're not trying here.
We're not optimizing.
There are no gold stars.
We're just turning inward a notch.
Remembering what runs an autopilot.
The breath that breathes you.
The heart that keeps tempo.
The dream maker warming up backstage.
That's it.
Stay right there.
Nothing to perform,
Nothing to fix.
Just arriving.
Okay.
Let's breathe in.
Slow.
Like you're pulling the day back from every tab you left open.
That meeting that you powered through.
The message you skimmed.
The feeling you didn't have time to feel.
Gather all the little pieces.
Invite them home.
Inhale.
Gather and breathe out.
Drop the static.
The noise.
The thought loops.
Again.
Inhale.
Let this ride on the breath.
I am ready.
Ready to soften.
Ready to shift.
Ready to look under the story I've been running and exhale.
Let the mind loosen its grip like your hand opening without making a thing of it.
You're not your thoughts,
Not your list,
Not your calendar,
Not even your day.
You're the space behind all of it.
The watcher,
The author,
The dreamer.
As you let your face soften,
Let your shoulders unhook,
The breath does its quiet thing.
Ask yourself gently,
What story did I run today?
Was it about control or over-efforting?
Was I hiding?
Was I not enough again?
Or something smaller.
A low hum of hurry,
Of not there yet,
Of fog,
Nagging something's off with no name to it.
Don't look to fix it,
Don't wrestle it,
Just notice.
Feel where it lives.
In the chest?
Is it in the jaw?
Is it in the gut?
Breathe and release right into it.
If it wants a name,
Give it one.
If not,
A nod is enough.
Just acknowledge it's there.
Before we can change anything,
We need to know what the it is that's already there and not working for us.
So give it its moment.
Acknowledge so you can let it pass through.
And now we just set it all down.
We're not packing that story for sleep.
Tonight that page is just blank and your dreaming mind is the pen.
Loosen the old language of me,
Myself.
That voice that sounds especially like somebody else's fear.
Hanging all by the door like a heavy coat that you don't need in this room.
It's nice and cozy.
You can grab it tomorrow or maybe not.
Bring the attention to the center of your chest,
To your heart,
Actually just behind your heart.
That quiet seat of knowing.
That place that says yes or no without speech.
It just knows.
And ask it softly.
What am I still carrying that isn't mine anymore?
Then wait.
It doesn't have to be a sentence.
Just a little flicker,
A whisper,
A word,
A feeling.
Whatever shows up,
Just bless it.
It protected you.
It got you here.
And now you can put it to rest.
We'll breathe with that.
Okay,
Let's tuck a little seed in the dark.
Nothing fancy.
Maybe just this under your breath.
I can choose again.
Let it land somewhere behind the ribs like a small glow.
Now peek at the you who's already living that quieter story.
You don't need to build a new you.
Just discovering yourself,
Like almost catching yourself at a window at night.
Notice how your posture doesn't apologize.
How your shoulders remember right where they belong.
How you're walking doesn't hurry in order to be believed.
The breath here,
It moved like it trusts the room.
There's no chase,
There's no argue.
It's just here.
And the voice in your head,
Softer around the edges.
It checks in before it checks out.
It forgives quicker.
It leaves certain rooms before the echo starts.
Let that version drift closer.
No effort.
Just like two soap bubbles touching and becoming one.
Their steadiness mixing with yours.
Their nervous system showing yours how.
Your brain knows how to wire what you rehearse.
Tonight is going to be a rehearsal for calm.
There.
That's enough.
The track is laid for the night to follow.
We'll just keep it simple and keep going.
Let some word wanders in now.
There's no need to say them out loud.
Just let your body hear it.
Your mind can catch up later.
Just let these words float in.
I'm safe to soften.
Safe to rest.
Safe to loosen my grip on who I've been.
It's okay not to know yet.
And it's okay to wake up different.
Old grooves easing.
New paths sketching themselves under the surface.
Less try,
More trust.
My body remembers how to mend.
My mind can learn the shape of calm.
My nervous system knows the road back.
The loop is ending.
The loop is ending.
Yeah,
Ending.
Something new is already moving.
Even if it's quiet,
Even if I can't see it,
I can feel the edge of it.
I'm becoming the version of glimpsed.
Tonight,
I'm practicing how it feels to live that way.
A touch more open,
A touch more trusting,
A touch more free.
I don't have to fix to love.
I don't have to earn to be worthy.
I already am.
That's plenty.
Let's let the rest happen without us steering.
Let your breath move how it wants.
Limbs heavier,
Face slack,
Eyes warm behind the lids.
You're safe here.
You're changing in small,
Kind,
Meaningful ways.
Let yourself be dreamed tonight.
Let the new story sketch itself in symbols and little scenes.
The future your practice and metaphor while you rest.
If you're still awake,
That's fine.
You're still doing it.
If you're drifting,
Let the drift take you.
I'm done asking anything of you now.
Let the words thin out.
I'll leave you here.
You are safe.
You are becoming.
You are the dream.
