I'm Bethany and I am honored to be here with you today.
I invite you to find a comfortable position.
Let your body settle in.
Let your breathing slow down.
Breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Begin to allow your exhales to lengthen.
Nothing to perform right now,
No one to impress,
Just you arriving,
Breathing,
Being.
I'm going to invite you to picture yourself standing in an open meadow on a bright summer morning.
The sun is above you,
Full and generous,
Pouring its warmth down onto your skin and shoulders.
Begin to allow yourself to feel that.
The sun doesn't question whether you deserve its light.
It simply shines,
On everything,
Without exception.
On the meadow,
The stones,
The trees,
And on you.
For just a moment,
Begin to let that in.
Bring your awareness to the space between your navel and your lower chest,
The solar plexus.
This is the seat of your personal will,
Your sense of self in the world,
Your capacity to move toward what matters to you.
Notice what you feel here.
Notice what you feel there.
Begin to bring to awareness whether there is heat or tightness,
Emptiness or fullness.
Perhaps you feel a flutter or a clenching constriction.
Whatever is there,
Simply notice and let it be.
No need to change it.
I invite you to ask inward with curiosity,
Is there any part of me that works very hard to keep everything under control?
A part that manages,
Plans,
Prepares,
That believes it just stays one step ahead If it knows what to expect at all times,
Things will be okay.
If you sense this part,
Just acknowledge it.
It's been carrying a lot for you.
Ask it,
What are you afraid would happen if you let go,
Even just a little?
And listen for the response.
Trust whatever comes.
This part may show you or tell you something that it needs you to know.
What are you afraid would happen if you didn't do this job for me?
These manager parts often learned their work because at some point,
Being too visible,
Wanting too much,
Or taking up space felt dangerous somehow.
Maybe they were shamed for their strength,
Or for showing their skills or abilities.
Maybe they made themselves smaller,
To survive.
And underneath them,
Is there something more tender?
A part that holds the belief,
I'm not enough.
I don't trust myself.
I don't matter.
If you sense even a flicker of that,
Let it know,
I see you,
And I'm not going anywhere.
I invite you to see if you can breathe warm golden light directly into your solar plexus.
Picture a steady flame.
Right in your center.
Warm and clear.
That's all yours.
This is not the fire of force.
It's the quiet fire of knowing who you are.
Of being able to say,
This is what I value.
This is what I choose.
With each breath in,
Allow this flame to grow a little steadier,
And a little brighter.
From the deepest,
Clearest part of you,
Yourself,
With a big S,
Let this truth move toward the parts that have carried shame or doubt.
Dear one,
Your power was never the problem.
You are allowed to take up space.
You are allowed to want things.
Your fire,
Your light,
Is not something to manage.
It is something to trust.
Take a slow,
Deep breath into your solar plexus and feel your warmth there.
Bring these words with you.
I trust myself.
I am enough,
Exactly as I am.
My fire is a gift.
Notice how these words land in your body as you begin to feel your fire and trust your inner light.
You can return to this sensation in your center over and over.
As we close,
Begin to feel your body return.
Notice your breath.
Notice the room you're in.
Bringing this connection with your solar plexus,
Your inner power.
And when you're ready,
Open your eyes slowly.
And begin to gently look around the room,
Allowing yourself to slowly return to the present moment.
Carry your fire with you.
Quiet and steady and all your own.