Take a moment to arrive just as you are.
Notice the body here.
It's weight.
It's shape.
It's quiet presence in space.
Feel the support beneath you,
Allowing yourself to be held without effort.
Let the breath move naturally,
Settling into its own rhythm.
It's the experience of meeting yourself without interruption.
Notice what it feels like to be here,
With no one else required,
And nothing else expected.
For many,
Aloneness has carried a sense of closing,
Inward,
A guarding,
A subtle contraction.
Here,
See if aloneness can feel different,
Not as withdrawal,
But as presence with yourself.
Bring attention gently to the center of your body,
The chest,
The belly,
Or wherever feels most steady.
Rest here.
Notice that you can remain open while being alone.
You can be available to life without directing yourself toward anyone.
Allow awareness to widen slightly,
Including the space around your body.
Feel how the space meets you.
Not empty.
Not distant.
Simply present.
You are here,
And life is still here with you.
Sacred presence does not require another person to exist.
It is the aliveness that remains when you are at home in yourself.
Notice if there is a quiet warmth,
A subtle hum,
Or a sense of enough.
If so,
Let it be there.
If not,
Let this moment still be complete.
Being alone without closing means staying in contact with breath,
With sensation,
With the simple fact of being alive.
No reaching.
No bracing.
Just presence keeping itself company.
Take a few breaths resting in this simplicity.
Alone but not withdrawn.
Open but not searching.
As this practice settles,
Remember that aloneness can be a place of warmth and availability.
You do not disappear when no one is here.
You remain connected to yourself,
To life,
To the field of presence you have been cultivating.
This way of being remains available whenever you are by yourself and want to stay open rather than close.
When you're ready,
Allow gentle movement back into the body or let the eyes open softly.