Settle into a position where your body can be supported.
Let yourself become heavy.
Feel the surface underneath you.
And imagine.
Just for a moment.
That you don't have to hold yourself quite so tightly.
Take your breath in.
And breathe out.
Again,
Inhale.
And exhale.
You'll begin to notice the room around you.
Without needing to move your head very much.
Let your eyes or your awareness notice where you are.
The shape of the room.
The light.
The sounds.
Maybe something nearby that feels comforting,
Familiar.
Just let your body receive the message that you are here right now.
And for these next few moments,
There is nowhere else you need to be.
Imagine that you're standing at the edge of a trail.
It stretches out in front of you,
Winding through tall trees.
You can smell the earth beneath your feet.
Sunlight breaks through the branches.
And plays and dances and small patches across the path.
You begin walking.
Slowly,
There's no destination you need to reach.
With every few steps you notice that you're carrying something,
A bag over your shoulder.
Maybe more than one.
You hadn't realized how heavy they were because you've carried them for so long.
As you walk,
You find a clearing ahead.
There's a large old tree at the center of it.
The roots spread deep beneath the earth.
Its branches stretch high above you.
Walk toward it.
And when you reach the tree.
Gently set one of your bags down beside its roots.
You don't have to know exactly what's inside the bag.
Maybe responsibilities or expectations.
Maybe all the ways you've learned to anticipate what everyone else needs from you.
Set another bag down.
Feel what happens when your shoulders relax as you release its weight.
And another,
And another.
Until eventually you're simply standing there,
Hands empty,
Nothing to carry for this moment.
Take a breath.
Notice what it feels like to be in your body.
Without gripping quite so hard.
Then you notice another path leading away from the clearing.
Something in you wants to follow it.
As you walk,
The trees slowly begin to open.
You hear water in the distance.
Soon the path leads you toward a wider stretch.
You look cool.
Up you notice The ocean is visible.
The sky feels enormous here.
The horizon goes on further than you can see.
You walk toward the shoreline and you feel the ground change beneath your feet.
Notice the temperature of the air.
The sound of the waves.
The rhythm of the water reaching the shore and pulling it back again.
The farther down the beach you notice.
Someone is walking toward you.
At first you cannot see them clearly,
But as they get closer something about them feels familiar.
Notice the way they walk.
They aren't rushing.
They aren't scanning the horizon for what might go wrong.
There's a steadiness in them,
A softness.
As you get closer,
You realize you know them.
They are you.
Not some perfected future version of you,
Not someone you need to become.
Part of you that has always been underneath the noise.
The part of you that still remembers what feels true.
Notice their face.
Or posture,
The way they look at you.
Imagine the two of you standing together at the edge of the water.
You don't need to ask a million questions.
Just one.
Quietly ask.
What are you trying to help me remember?
And then listen.
Maybe a word comes.
Maybe an image.
Maybe nothing at all.
Let your body notice before your mind tries to explain it.
They reach towards you and place something in your hand.
You look down.
Maybe it's a shell a stone or a feather.
Something simple.
Something that represents whatever they want you to carry back with you Feel it in your palm and notice what changes in your body as you hold it.
Before they leave,
Allow yourself to look again.
Notice they aren't disappearing.
They are part of you.
You don't have to travel all the way back to this beach to find them again.
Take a long breath in.
And on your exhale,
Begin slowly making your way back down the path.
Ocean behind you.
The trees ahead of you.
Eventually you return to the clearing.
The bags are still there beside the tree.
Some of them may need to come with you.
But perhaps you don't need to pick every one of them back up.
Notice that there are some things you can leave behind,
Even for just today.
Now begin returning awareness to your actual body.
Feel what's underneath you,
Supporting you.
Notice the temperature of the room.
Your hands,
Your feet.
Maybe add some movement to your fingers and your toes.
Take one deeper breath.
Imagine the small object from the beach still resting in your hand.
A reminder that coming home to yourself isn't somewhere you finally arrive.
It's something you practice again and again.
One choice.
One breath.
One moment at a time.
When you're ready.
Slowly open your eyes and return to this moment.
