Hello,
I'm Emma and a warm welcome here.
This practice is for moments when something in you is seeking support.
Perhaps you've been holding a lot for yourself,
For others,
For a life that keeps asking things of you.
Perhaps there's exhaustion underneath the functioning,
A part of you that hasn't felt held in a while.
This is just a few minutes of being held,
Just receive it as best you can.
Let's begin.
Find your way into stillness.
Lying down if that's available or seated,
Spine and head may be gently supported.
Take a moment to make yourself comfortable.
A blanket if the body wants warmth,
A covering to begin feeling physically held,
A pillow beneath the knees holding the legs,
An eye covering if that helps the light soften.
With these small acts of settling,
Arranging the body in a way that feels held,
You're beginning to create the type of embodied experience of actually being held.
Let the eyes close or take a soft gaze and for these next few minutes,
Perhaps the thinking,
The planning,
The holding it all together can rest at the edge of your awareness.
There's nowhere to be,
Nothing to manage.
Just let yourself be held.
Bring awareness to the contact between your body and the surface beneath you.
The back of the head,
The shoulders,
The length of the spine,
The backs of the legs,
The heels.
With every point of contact,
The ground is there,
Receiving the weight,
Simply holding.
Perhaps this is the first time today you've noticed that something has held you without needing anything in return.
Notice how that feels in the body,
Let that land the sense of being held.
The earth beneath this body,
The earth that is vast and ancient holds it all.
Every grief,
Every joy,
Every ordinary day and the earth is holding you too.
You might feel the weight of tense muscles and tissues beginning to release,
Layer by layer.
Each exhale an invitation to trust the ground a little bit more.
Let the ground hold you.
Let the breath arrive in its own time,
No need to deepen it or change its shape,
Just notice it's here.
The body is holding the breath and the breath in turn is holding the body.
The inhale offering sensation and nourishment,
The exhale releasing sensation and nourishment through the inhale,
The exhale releasing.
The breath a rhythm that repeats,
A rhythm your body holds.
Just notice the sensation of breath now.
Perhaps the breath feels a little shallow,
You notice the chest or belly feel a little tight or slow to move.
Just something to notice,
To hold with a little kindness and then let the breath travel within,
Body softening to receive the breath.
And you might invite the next exhale to be a little longer,
Just allowed to lengthen as if the body has been waiting for permission to soften,
To release all that it's held.
The breath letting go into the space all around you,
The space holding the breath.
Holding your body,
Let the belly soften on the release,
The inhale simply happening and then out all the way,
Nothing left to hold.
You are being held.
You are held.
Held by the ground beneath you.
Held by the breath moving through you.
Held by the space around you,
Beyond the day's demands.
The space that's been here beneath the weariness,
The space that holds you.
Perhaps there are places where it feels difficult to be held,
Where something in the body has learned to manage alone.
To brace,
To armor,
To keep going.
Asking for support.
Those places are welcome here too.
You might breathe towards them ever so gently and let them know it's safe here.
Something is holding this.
You are being held.
And know there is so much happening beneath the surface of awareness.
The breath arriving without being asked,
The heartbeat steady in its rhythm.
The bones and fascia holding the shape of you throughout everything you've moved through.
The nervous system doing its best,
Always doing its best to keep you safe.
To read the room.
To navigate what each day brings.
Perhaps it's been on alert and hasn't had much chance to rest,
To feel held and safe.
You might place a hand on your chest,
Or on the belly,
Wherever feels welcome.
Or simply let the hands rest open,
Palms upward,
A gesture of receiving.
You are held.
I see how hard you've been working.
You can soften now.
You are held.
Offer this to your body.
This recognition.
I see how hard you've been working.
You can soften now.
You're held.
For a moment,
Sense all the ways something is holding you right now.
The sense of the ground beneath you.
The walls of this room or the space you're in.
The air surrounding your resting self.
The clothes against the body.
The temperature of the space you're in.
The sounds around you.
My voice holding you.
There is always something here.
A field of support.
Perhaps there are certain people who hold you.
Is there a face?
A familiar voice?
A feeling of being known by someone else?
You might let that in.
Let the warmth of being known by someone move through the body if it's there.
See their face.
Hear their voice.
Know how they hold you.
And if that feels distant today,
If being held feels harder to connect with,
That's all right.
Let the ground hold you.
Let this experience hold you.
Let's take a few last breaths together in this practice now.
As you breathe in,
You might sense the ground rising to meet you as the back of the body expands into the earth.
And as you exhale,
You might release into that support.
Allow the breath to flow.
The body to feel held.
And the exhale to feel like a release.
All the way.
Being held.
And perhaps moving the hands back to the heart or belly if they drifted.
Wherever feels most like home on your body.
Then you might offer these words inwardly.
Or let them be felt without needing to speak them.
I am held.
I am held.
Even when it feels hard,
I can be supported.
I can ask to be held.
When you're ready,
Let small movements return to the body.
To the fingers and the toes.
Perhaps a gentle roll of the shoulders.
A more generous breath.
Hold this sensation of being held within and carry it with you into the rest of your day or your evening.
Let the eyes open slowly.
Let the room come back in gently.
Carry this held feeling with you.
A gentle knowing that the ground is always there.
That something is always holding you.
And even that you came here for yourself today.
That gentleness towards yourself,
That's its own kind of holding.
Thank you for being here.
I'll see you next time.
