Hello,
This is Zia.
When the weight of getting it exactly right feels heavy in your body,
This practice helps you soften,
Starting with your eyes,
Your jaw,
And your breath.
Begin by letting your gaze rest on a single point straight ahead.
Now,
Soften your eyes and allow your peripheral vision to gradually widen so that you begin to notice the walls,
The ceiling,
The floor,
And the edges of your seeing mind.
Rather than trying to focus even more,
Let yourself rest into the blurriness while whispering to yourself,
I'm safe even when things aren't that clear.
Now place one hand on your jaw,
The other on the back of your neck.
Breathe into your palms while you imagine warmth melting frost.
With each exhale,
Let your jaw grow heavier,
Let your neck muscles unclench.
Perfectionism lives here and it's learning to melt.
Now picture your mind as a frosted window,
The kind that's rigid and difficult to see through.
With each exhale,
Imagine your breath warming the glass,
Tiny droplets form sliding down.
The frost doesn't crack.
It relents to your gentle warm breath,
Revealing the world outside with a new clarity that's softly focused.
No scraping the hard ice,
No forcing,
Just the patience of a melting release.
You begin to see.
Some things are clearer when you soften your gaze.
Your nervous system is learning.
Softness is not sloppiness.
It's space to breathe.
Each time your periphery expands,
Each drip from the glass quiets the old fear that's screened.
If I unfocus,
I'll fail.
Now it whispers,
Clarity comes through allowance,
Not force.
Let your hands rest now,
But keep this widened gaze.
Perfectionism may return and you'll remember,
Even frosted glass holds the sun's warmth inside.
