Welcome,
My sweet friend.
Please,
Allow yourself to just arrive here.
I see the way you've been carrying the world on the thin,
Trembling shelf of your shoulders.
I see the quiet,
Frantic telling you do,
Before your feet even hit the floor in the morning.
The lists,
The shoulds,
The heavy inventory of all the ways you feel you must prove your right to exist.
I see the overachiever,
That small,
Brave,
Terrified part of you that believes if you stop running,
If you stop producing,
If you stop being useful,
You will simply disappear.
You have been living in the state of constant,
High vibrational grip,
A subtle,
Metallic tension in the marrow,
A bracing of the jaw against a future that hasn't even arrived.
You've been wearing your effort like a heavy,
Silk-soaked coat that has grown stiff with the weather of your worries,
Until you've forgotten the soft,
Radiant feeling of your own skin.
You are allowed to be tired.
You are allowed to let the tools fall from your hands.
You are allowed to be a masterpiece that is simply sitting still.
We have spent so long building the cathedral,
We've forgotten to actually pray inside of it.
We have mistaken the noise of the hammer for the music of our worth.
But your worth is not a wage you earn through exhaustion.
It is not a collection of gold stars.
It is the very breath that is moving through you right now,
Innate,
Ancient,
And absolute.
Now,
Let's shift the frequency.
Drop your awareness out of the construction site of the mind,
And into the heat of your heart.
Feel the gravity of your existence,
Heavy,
Velvet,
And ancient.
Scan the interior landscape.
Where is the static of productivity living today?
Is it a buzzing in the solar plexus?
A calcification in the throat?
Don't fight it.
Command it to dissolve.
Imagine a liquid gold light,
Thick,
Warm,
And sovereign,
Beginning to pour into the crown of your head.
It moves through the brain,
Silencing the anxious inventory.
It flows down the spine,
Melting the scaffolding you've been using to hold yourself up.
You are reclaiming your sovereign throne.
In this space,
You are not a human doing.
You are a radiant frequency.
Inhale,
I am,
And feel the magnetism of your existence.
Exhale,
Divine presence,
And release the need to prove it.
You are the architect,
But you are also the creator.
The temple.
The stars do not strive to glow.
They simply burn because it is their nature.
The mountain does not apologize for its weight.
It simply stands.
Your worth is non-negotiable.
It is sovereign.
Carry this sovereign heart back into the world of clocks and ledgers.
When the urge to hustle for your worth arises,
Remember the white heat in your center.
You work from your fullness,
Not for your fullness.
Take a final,
Slow,
Velvet breath,
Soaking in the gold of this realization.
When you are ready,
Slowly,
As if returning from the heart of the earth,
Open your eyes.
Thank you,
Beautiful soul,
For the gift of your presence and for the grace of your softening.
Thank you for being exactly who you are.
