Welcome to this Yoga Nidra practice for deep sleep and true rest.
Begin by making yourself as comfortable as possible.
Lie down in a position where your body can remain still and supported.
You may wish to place a pillow beneath your head,
A bolster or cushions beneath your knees,
A blanket over your body,
Or an eye pillow across your eyes.
Just let this become your nest for rest.
A place where your body does not need to hold itself together.
A place where the breath can soften.
A place where the mind is gently invited to loosen its grip on the day.
Allow your eyes to close.
Feel the weight of your body meeting the surface beneath you.
The back of the head supported.
The shoulders supported.
The spine supported.
The hips supported.
The legs supported.
The heels supported.
Nothing to hold.
Nothing to solve.
Nothing to prove.
This practice is not a test of sleep.
You don't need to try to sleep.
You don't need to monitor whether sleep is coming.
You don't even need to get this right.
Because Yoga Nidra is a practice of allowing.
The body may sleep.
The mind may drift.
Awareness may come and go.
But all is welcome here.
If thoughts are present,
Let them be present.
If emotions are present,
Let them be present.
If the body feels restless,
Let that too be included.
Nothing has to be pushed away.
Nothing has to be forced into stillness.
You are simply arriving.
And arriving is enough.
Now take a deep breath in through the nose.
And a soft breath out through the mouth.
And again.
Inhale gently.
Exhale,
Release.
One more time.
Breathe in.
And breathe out,
So the day is leaving your body on this last exhale.
Now let the breath return to its own natural rhythm.
Unmanaged.
Unimproved.
Just allowed.
I invite you now to use your inner voice and say these words three times.
Here begins the practice of Yoga Nidra.
I allow myself to rest deeply.
I welcome whatever this night brings.
Whether awake or asleep,
I am safe.
I release the need to force anything.
I soften into being held.
Here begins the practice of Yoga Nidra.
I allow myself to rest deeply.
I welcome whatever this night brings.
Whether awake or asleep,
I am safe.
I release the need to force anything.
I soften into being held.
Here begins the practice of Yoga Nidra.
I allow myself to rest deeply.
I welcome whatever this night brings.
Whether awake or asleep,
I am safe.
I release the need to force anything.
I soften into being held.
Let those words settle through the body.
Not as something to think about,
But as something the body can receive.
A quiet permission.
A doorway into rest.
We're now going to set a simple intention for this practice.
Again,
Using your inner voice,
Silently repeat to yourself three times.
I am safe to let go.
My body knows how to rest.
Sleep comes naturally when I soften.
I am safe to let go.
My body knows how to rest.
Sleep comes naturally when I soften.
I am safe to let go.
My body knows how to rest.
Sleep comes naturally when I soften.
Imagine these words settling beneath the surface of the mind.
Like a seed resting in dark,
Warm earth.
Nothing to force.
Nothing to make happen.
Simply planted.
Simply received.
Imagine now that above you,
There is a vast,
Calm night sky.
Deep indigo.
Soft black.
Quiet and spacious.
A sky that does not ask anything of you.
A sky that has room for everything.
From somewhere high above,
A gentle moonlight begins to appear.
Not bright.
Not sharp.
Soft.
Silver.
Kind.
It begins to pour down slowly.
Like a fine mist of light.
This moonlight touches the crown of your head.
The scalp softens.
The forehead smooths.
The space between the eyebrows releases.
The eyes soften in their sockets.
The cheeks loosen.
The jaw unclenches.
The tongue rests.
The whole face becomes quiet.
The moonlight flows down through the throat.
Across the shoulders.
Down the arms.
Into the hands.
Each finger softening.
Each palm opening.
Nothing to grasp.
Nothing to hold.
The light settles over the chest.
The heart space.
The ribs.
The tummy.
Let the tummy be soft.
Let it rise and fall without judgement.
Let the breath move in whatever way it wants to move.
The moonlight pours down through the pelvis.
The hips grow heavy.
The thighs release.
The knees soften.
The calves loosen.
The ankles rest.
The feet become heavy and warm.
Your whole body is now touched by the soft night light.
Seen.
Allowed to rest.
Now slowly move your awareness to the breath.
Do not change it.
Do not deepen it.
Simply notice the breath is already moving.
The body is already breathing.
Breathing itself.
Imagine the breath as a quiet tide.
The inhale,
A gentle wave arriving.
The exhale,
A gentle wave returning.
Arriving.
Returning.
Leaving.
Rising.
Falling.
Nothing to control.
Nothing to hold.
In a moment I am going to invite you to begin to count the breath softly in your mind.
But only if it feels helpful.
Inhale.
Inhale 1.
Exhale 2.
Inhale 3.
Exhale 4.
And you will continue.
You will count your way to 20.
If you lose count,
Simply begin again at 1.
Losing count is not a mistake.
It may simply mean the mind is beginning to let go and relax.
Ok,
Let's begin.
Inhale 1.
Exhale 2.
Inhale 3.
Exhale 4.
And you continue.
Now release the counting.
Let the breath become even softer.
Even quieter.
Perhaps so quiet that you can hardly feel the movement.
The smallest breath is enough.
The gentlest breath is enough.
You are being breathed.
You are being held.
To help bring us into balance,
We are now going to explore opposing sensations to help the body down regulate.
There is nothing to force.
Nothing to get right.
Just allow yourself to notice.
And to feel.
Allow yourself to feel your body becoming heavy.
Weighted.
Sinking into the support beneath you.
Now notice your body rising.
Gently floating above the support beneath you.
Now notice any tension remaining.
In the jaw.
The shoulders.
No need to fix it.
Just feel it.
Now feel it release.
The muscles softening.
Effort dissolving.
Notice the activity of the mind.
Any thoughts moving.
Any monkey chatter.
Now sense quiet spreading.
Gaps between thoughts.
Like pauses between waves.
Or stillness between ripples.
Notice any part of you that's still alert.
Listening.
Aware.
Now feel the edges of sleep.
Softening.
Drifting.
Unforced.
Now let all sensations fade.
No need to hold any of them.
And just let yourself be.
Let yourself melt into rest.
Now in your mind's eye.
I invite you to drift somewhere that feels completely safe.
This could be a place you know well.
Or somewhere from your past.
Or somewhere entirely imagined.
There's no right choice.
Only what feels right for you.
It might be a quiet beach.
A cozy room.
A woodland clearing.
A mountain view.
Or somewhere you've never been.
But instantly recognize as safe.
Let the place begin to form.
Gently.
Without effort.
Notice where you are.
Are you lying down?
Sitting.
Or resting against something?
What is supporting your body?
Now begin to look around.
What can you see?
Colors.
Light.
There's no need for detail.
Just a soft sense of place.
What can you hear?
Perhaps something subtle.
Like the wind.
Running water.
Or just something completely different.
Maybe even stillness.
What can you feel?
The temperature of the air.
The surface beneath you.
The way your body is being held.
Now just let yourself land here.
Safe.
Supported.
Undisturbed.
Don't view this safe space from a distance.
But feel as though you're already there.
Safe.
Supported.
Undisturbed.
Your awareness is drawn to something above you.
As something changes.
A soft golden light appears.
Not bright.
Not overwhelming.
Gentle.
Reassuring.
This light may be coming from the night sky.
Or through a soft mist.
Or drifting down like a quiet fog.
There's no need to define it.
Only to notice it.
Slowly this golden light begins to descend.
Like a blanket.
Like a soft protective layer moving gently toward you.
As it reaches the crown of your head it feels warm.
Comforting.
Safe.
It begins to wrap around you.
Not covering you suddenly.
But settling gradually.
Slowly.
It settles exactly how it needs to.
Without you needing to adjust anything.
You feel it slowly move across your face.
It feels like a deep sense of ease.
Softening.
A letting go.
As it flows over your shoulders.
There's nothing left to carry.
Nothing expected of you.
As it settles across your chest.
You may feel something deeper.
A sense of being cared for.
Held.
Protected.
Even loved.
The golden blanket continues down your body.
Wrapping your arms.
Your hands.
Your tummy.
Your hips.
Your arms.
Your legs.
And finally your feet.
Your entire body now held within this warm golden light.
It doesn't matter where your safe space is.
This feeling is the same.
A shared experience of rest.
Of safety.
Of letting go.
The light seems to know exactly what you need.
If there is tension,
It softens it.
If there's restlessness,
It settles it.
If there's tiredness,
It supports it.
And slowly,
Very slowly,
This golden blanket begins to quiet everything beneath it.
The body grows heavier.
The breath softer.
The mind quieter.
There's nothing you need to do to stay here.
Nothing to maintain.
Nothing to hold on to.
The blanket holds you.
Your safe place is holding you.
And the night holds everything.
Now allow the words to become fewer.
Allow the spaces between them to become wider.
Let the practice carry itself.
Let the breath carry itself.
Let the body receive the deepest rest available to it tonight.
You're not chasing sleep.
You're resting in the conditions where sleep may come naturally.
Darkness.
Safety.
Permission.
If sleep comes,
Let it come.
If wakefulness remains,
Let it be soft wakefulness.
Either way,
You're resting.
Either way,
The nervous system is receiving the message,
I am safe now.
I can let go now.
I can rest now.
Now softly say to yourself the following,
I am safe to let go.
My body knows how to rest.
Sleep comes naturally to me when I soften.
There is nothing you need to do now.
No need to return quickly.
No need to listen closely.
Let my voice begin to fade into the background.
Let the music become the night around you.
Let your breath become quiet.
Let your body become heavy.
Let your mind drift into sleep.
