Welcome.
Begin by closing your eyes now.
Let the weight of the day slide off your shoulders.
Breathe in softly and then let the breath fall away.
Let every sound around you become part of this moment.
The air,
The pulse,
Even the faint rhythm behind the thought.
And now imagine a hall,
Vast,
Silent,
And carved of light itself.
And you stand at its center,
Feels both eternal and newly born.
And before you is a mirror,
Tall,
Still,
And alive.
Its surface is not glass,
It's liquid light,
Rippling faintly,
Reflecting not what stands before you,
But what is.
So you decide to step closer now.
And at first you see your face,
The way you've always seen it.
Familiar,
Human,
And defined by stories.
But as you watch,
The image begins to soften,
And the edges blur,
And the features dissolve.
Your reflection starts to shimmer like water touched by wind,
And within it,
A presence begins to emerge.
And it doesn't have form,
It has recognition.
A knowing that feels ancient,
As if the mirror has waited lifetimes for you to look clearly enough to see it.
So you take a slow breath,
And it breathes with you.
You think,
Who are you?
And the mirror answers without words.
I am the one who has always looked through your eyes.
And stillness fills the space between you.
And it's not silence,
It's something even deeper.
A pause between creation and reflection.
Now notice what happens when you stop trying to see yourself,
When you simply allow sight to exist.
The mirror begins to pulse gently,
And the light inside it,
And the light within you,
Begin to merge.
As though two rivers of awareness are realizing they were never separate.
And you reach out a hand,
And the surface meets you.
Not cool like glass,
But warm like the breath.
And your fingers pass through it,
And then you feel something impossible,
As if your body were remembering its original shape.
And so you step forward slowly,
Until the mirror and you are one image,
One reflection,
One field.
You're not looking into the mirror anymore,
You're looking from it.
Everything you see now is divine reflection.
Every face,
Every star,
And every moment of thought.
All of it.
God looking back at God.
So breathe gently.
The mirror expands until it fills the universe.
Galaxies drift across its surface,
Like tiny specks of dust on glass.
And you are the awareness watching them turn.
Every story you ever told about yourself,
Every title,
Every memory,
Every wound melts away like snow under a rising sun.
And what's left is luminous,
Empty but full,
Silent but singing.
And the voice returns now.
Now it's not separate,
But it's arising as you.
I was never hidden from you.
You were simply looking through too small of a window.
You are not in time.
Time is in you.
You're not the reflection.
You're the light that makes reflecting possible.
And with that knowing,
The mirror disappears.
There's no longer anything to see,
Only seeing itself.
So you stand in a formless space,
Weightless and infinite.
But somehow you're still human,
Still tender,
Still capable of touch and laughter lost.
And you realize the miracle is not that God exists somewhere beyond.
It's that God found a way to exist as you.
So take a slow deep breath.
Let the realization settle behind your ribs.
And not as thought,
But as a warmth.
You've seen the truth.
The mirror never showed you anything new.
It only erased what wasn't you to begin with.
So now you begin to return.
Feel the body again.
Feel the breath.
The gentle pull of gravity bringing you home.
You can open your eyes now.
See the world as it truly is.
A reflection of the same light that breathes behind your eyes.
And let this one knowing move quietly through your day.
The divine is not out there,
Not waiting to be found.
It's here.
Looking through the window of your heart,
Seeing only itself.
Good work today.
Namaste.
