Welcome.
Find a comfortable position.
You may be seated,
Feet on the floor,
Or truly wherever your body feels supported.
And I invite you to close your eyes,
Or just soften your gaze.
You may want to put your hand on your heart,
Or your belly.
And I invite you to notice your breath.
And together,
Let's take a slow breath in through your nose,
And a full breath out through your mouth.
Again,
Inhale through your nose,
And release through your mouth.
And as you continue to breathe,
Let your shoulders drop.
Notice the tension in your jaw and eyebrows,
And soften.
Feel your body here,
Now.
Bring your attention to your feet.
Notice where they meet the ground.
Imagine,
If it feels right,
A gentle connection between you and the ground,
Like roots,
Extending downward.
Nothing forced,
Just a quiet sense of support.
You are here.
Remember,
There is nothing that you need to do in this moment right now.
But arrive,
And breathe.
Now begin to notice your inner landscape.
Without needing to change anything,
Just observe.
Notice the rise and fall of your chest and belly.
Notice any tension you may be holding,
And give yourself permission to release.
Your inner landscape may feel busy,
Or quiet,
Or somewhere in between.
Whatever is here is welcome.
Imagine now,
A landscape in late winter.
The ground is still.
The air is cool,
Even chilled.
Things are resting beneath the surface.
Nothing is wrong here.
This is just a season of pause,
Of gathering,
Of waiting.
And breathe.
Now,
Slowly,
Something begins to shift.
A soft warmth moves through the air.
The ground loosens,
Just slightly.
Beneath the surface,
Something is stirring.
Imagine that within you,
There is a small seed.
And this seed is your voice.
Not the voice shaped by expectation or perfection,
But your true voice.
The one that speaks in images,
In rhythm,
In feeling.
This seed has been there all along.
And now,
It begins to respond.
With each breath,
There is a soft opening.
Inhale,
Something expands.
Exhale,
Something releases.
Inhale,
Expand.
Exhale,
Release.
Inhale,
Expand.
Exhale,
Release.
Breathe.
The seed doesn't force itself to grow.
It simply responds to warmth,
To space,
To attention.
Silently or softly to yourself,
I invite you to repeat,
My voice is here.
My voice is ready.
I allow it to emerge.
And breathe.
My voice is here.
My voice is ready.
I allow it to emerge.
And breathe.
No pressure.
No performance.
Just permission.
Now imagine that this seed begins to reach upward,
A small shoot,
Finding its way toward light.
It doesn't question if it's good enough.
It doesn't wait for certainty.
It simply grows.
In the same way,
Something in you is ready to move.
Not perfectly,
Not completely.
But honestly,
Authentically,
You.
Begin to bring awareness back to your hands,
Your fingers,
The part of you that writes.
Notice any energy there.
Any subtle readiness.
You don't need a perfect idea.
You don't need the right words.
You only need a willingness to begin.
So take one more deep breath in.
And release.
And when you are ready,
Open your eyes.
And as you return,
Carry this with you.
Something in me is ready.
Something in me is moving.
And I will meet it on the page.
