Welcome to today's meditation.
I invite you to get super comfy wherever you are.
You might sit or lie down.
There's really no perfect posture,
Only the one that allows you to stay present.
If it feels okay,
Sit upright to allow your spine to lengthen so your breath can move deeply and with ease.
I invite you to close your eyes or just soften your gaze.
Begin to notice your breath,
The rise and fall of your chest,
The powerful connection to your life force and creation,
Moving without effort to sustain your vitality.
Simply notice.
Now notice what is holding you,
The chair,
The floor,
The ground.
Allow yourself to be supported.
Step two in our program of recovery says we came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to a normal way of thinking and living.
Notice it does not say believed perfectly or pretend to believe in something foreign to you.
It says came to believe.
Step two invites us into a personal journey and discovery of something greater than ourselves.
Your journey and your fellow's journeys may be different.
It is simply an opportunity to hold onto hope with belief.
We'll begin our dive into stillness with simple three count breaths.
We will inhale through the nose for three counts,
Hold for three counts and exhale through the mouth for three counts.
Let's begin.
Inhale through your nose for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
And exhale through your mouth for three,
Two,
One.
Good.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
And exhale for three,
Two,
One.
And one more time.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
And exhale for three,
Two,
One.
Good.
Now allow your breath to return to its natural rhythm.
Step two invites hope.
Not forced hope,
Not blind optimism,
But the possibility that help exists even before we fully feel it.
Hope is often quiet at first.
Sometimes it arrives as a whisper.
You are not alone.
A tiny nudge.
There is help when you're ready.
I want to tell you about the bird who forgot the sky.
And as I tell you about Benny the bird,
I invite you to continue to follow your breath.
Allow your body to melt into a relaxed state.
There was once a small migrating bird named Benny.
Benny had always flown with his flock.
He loved flying in community and feeling the wind move through his feathers.
They traveled long distances,
Guided by something he didn't fully understand.
The sky had once felt endless,
Reliable.
His flock always landed in a place they needed to thrive in any season.
But after a long season of unexpected turbulent storms,
Benny became tired and he watched his loved ones grow weary too.
He began to mistrust the sky,
Doubt whether its intention was to help or harm.
He wondered if the wind herself would fail him,
If the currents that once lifted he and his flock had disappeared,
Disappeared forever.
One evening,
Exhausted and filled with despair,
Benny landed alone on a cold branch.
Shivering and weak from a difficult flight,
He looked down at the ground and considered staying there,
Giving up the flight.
Flying had begun to feel so uncertain,
And uncertainty felt dangerous.
High above,
Unseen in the fading light,
Warm air currents still moved.
The sky had not withdrawn its support.
It was simply waiting.
But Benny could not see these currents above his head.
Yet after resting a bit,
Still wanting to give in to defeat,
Benny did something small.
He did not soar.
He did not make a grand declaration.
Holding on to hope,
He simply opened his wings a little and leaned forward.
To his surprise,
The wind met him,
Not dramatically,
Not loudly,
But steadily enough that the currents began to lift Benny off his cold branch.
The sky had been just simply waiting,
Welcomed Benny back into its endless possibilities.
Benny had not needed to create the lift or to push himself beyond where his small wings could carry him.
He needed only to lean into his dwindling hope,
Take one small action,
And allow himself to enter into the invisible currents.
And in that moment,
He realized the power carrying him forward was greater than his wings alone.
And he was not flying by himself.
Benny came to believe there was help,
Even when he could not see it.
Notice what this story stirs within you.
Perhaps you felt like Benny,
Tired of trusting,
Unsure whether support still exists or ever existed.
Perhaps like Benny,
You have come to believe there is help.
Maybe it's in the rooms of recovery,
In nature,
In a higher power of your own understanding.
Step two does not demand certainty.
It asks only,
Are you willing to consider that something greater than you might be available?
Are you?
There is no right or wrong answer.
Let's deepen our stillness and breath and simply notice what arises.
So we'll return to our three count breath.
And let's begin.
Inhale through your nose,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Hold,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
And exhale through your mouth,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Good.
Again.
Inhale,
Four,
Three.
Two.
Hold.
And exhale.
And continue in this rhythm.
You might imagine spreading your own wings and floating on the warm wind currents with each inhale and exhale.
Let each exhale be a release.
And inhale.
Exhale.
Hold.
And simply allow your breath to move naturally again.
If it feels supportive,
You may softly say inside,
I am not alone.
Not as a demand,
Not as proof,
Just as a possibility.
I am not alone.
And notice how that feels in your body.
And breathe.
And breathe.
Step two is not about having all the answers.
It's about being willing to look up again.
So trusting and knowing you may always return to the stillness within.
I invite you to begin to notice the surface beneath you.
You may want to wiggle your fingers and toes.
Turn your head from side to side.
And when you are ready,
Open your eyes.
Remember that step two is not a final destination.
It is being willing to explore.
I thank you for practicing with me today.
It is always my honor and privilege.
