Hello Friends!
Thank you for being here.
Around us.
People are returning from the beach.
Tend Relaxed.
Their hair lightened by the sun.
And we're still here.
Rooted in our daily lives.
With my Swiss accent and the fatigue of a long year.
With your resolve to meditate,
And perhaps a hint of sadness.
But whoever said we have to wait for a beach to feel the ocean?
Has clearly never closed their eyes.
Because not only are we going,
We are becoming the ocean itself.
Yes we are.
And we're doing this Right now.
For this journey.
Find a seated position.
Keep your back straight.
Legs outstretched.
Knees bent.
Keep it flat.
As if your souls are resting on warm sand.
Hands can rest by your side.
Or on your lap.
Put on sunglasses.
And gently close your eyes.
Imagine the most beautiful beach you can think of.
It can be a place you have already been.
Or one straight out of your imagination.
There can be palm trees.
A row of umbrellas in your favorite color.
A small beach bar with ice cream cones.
It can be early morning,
When the light is softer,
Or late afternoon.
When the sun begins to turn pink and red.
Perhaps there are children playing in the water.
Having the best time.
Perhaps you are with people you love.
With your pet.
All on your own.
If you had a book.
Leave it on your towel.
Walk to the water's edge.
Feel the sand.
Warm and grainy.
Between your toes.
A light,
Salty wind touches your skin.
The sweet scent of sunscreen lingers in the air.
As you keep walking,
The human sounds fade away.
Until all you can hear is the wind.
And the waves.
Find a place to sit near the water.
Close enough that your toes receive the waves.
All the muscles in your body begin to soften.
From your feet to your hips.
To your shoulders.
To your face.
Once settled and relaxed,
Begin to notice your breath.
Notice air moving in and out.
But as rhythm.
The rise and fall of your chest.
The gentle pause at the top.
The soft release.
This rhythm is yours.
It has kept you alive.
Through every season.
Now,
As you inhale,
Imagine the edges of your body beginning to soften.
Your skin.
That faithful boundary between you and the world.
Becomes porous.
Like fine sand meeting the tide.
With each breath.
That boundary grows thinner.
More translucent.
Inhale slowly.
And feel your ribs expand.
Not as long as feeling.
But as the ocean itself.
Swelling within the shape of you.
The tide does not enter you.
You remember.
That you were never separate from it.
The salt in your blood.
The water in your cells.
They have always been ocean.
You are simply returning to that knowing.
As you exhale,
Feel your edges blur further.
Your shoulders,
Your hips.
The crown of your head.
They don't disappear.
But they become less defined.
Like a wave that forgets where it ends and the sea begins.
You are no longer a body on the shore.
You are the shore.
The weed.
The wind.
And the vast deep.
All at once.
With each cycle of breath.
Let go of one more boundary.
The shape of your legs.
The weight of your thoughts.
The name you carry.
Let the tide of your breath flow.
Pull them gently away.
Not as loss.
But as release.
And when you are ready,
When there is no you left to defend.
Simply rest.
In the sensation of being held.
The ocean doesn't have to enter you to become you.
It has always been there.
And your bones.
In your blood.
In the rise and fall of your chest.
You are not becoming something new.
You are returning.
To something ancient.
Much love,
My friend.
