Prepare for the practice of Yoga Nidra.
Lie on your back in Shavasana.
Gather pillows,
Blankets,
Perhaps an eye covering.
And make yourself comfortable.
Close down the eyes and find stillness.
Allow the weight of the body to sink onto whatever support you're resting on.
Give way to this support.
Consciously allow each and every muscle and bone to release and let go.
Feel a connection with the support underneath you.
Notice this connection.
Your body,
Resting,
Supported,
Able to fully release.
And surrender.
To this moment.
To this practice.
Feel the connection with your breath now.
Arrive into this moment with your breath.
Watch it with your mind's eye,
Entering and leaving your body through your nose.
Deepen your arrival into practice with each and every inhale.
And soften with every exhale.
Now take a long,
Slow breath in through the nose.
And let it go through the mouth.
Once more,
Breathing in.
And letting go.
One last time.
Breathing in.
As full as you can.
And then,
Let it all go.
Now allow the breath to return to its own rhythm.
Lips are sealed.
And make a quiet resolve to yourself to stay awake in this practice.
Perhaps even silently repeating to yourself.
I am practicing Yoga Nidra.
Imagine your body as a house and evening is falling.
Through the day,
The house has been busy,
With doors opening and closing,
Voices in every room,
And lights blazing in every window.
Now,
Slowly.
The household is getting ready for the night.
Notice the sounds around you.
Hear the most distant sound first,
Out beyond the walls of the house.
Than the sounds closer by.
Then the small sounds of the room you're resting in.
Let these sounds be like the last few visitors leaving for the night.
Feeling outside of the house.
The skin.
Notice where it meets the floor or the bed,
And the air resting against it.
The blanket,
And the clothes.
Let these sensations be like evening air settling against the outside walls.
Their house is held and sheltered.
Behind the eyelids,
There may still be colors,
Shapes,
Or patterns of light.
Let them be like the last glow of sunset in the windows.
One by one.
The curtains are drawn.
The house grows quiet.
Room by room,
The lights go out.
But one small lamp stays lit.
In the center of the house.
In the words of the Bhagavad Gita.
It is like a lamb in a windless place.
That does not flicker.
This is the lamp of awareness,
A light through all the noise of the day.
A light throughout the night,
Through dreams,
And through deep sleep.
Rest here.
In its glow.
Now bring to mind your Sancalpa.
A short,
Positive statement of your heart's deepest intention.
Sankalpa is said in the present tense,
Felt in mind,
Body,
And soul,
As if it's already true.
For this practice,
You might choose,
I am resting in what is always here.
Or I am awareness at peace.
Or beneath it all.
I am hope.
Choose one that resonates for you,
Or let your own arise,
And repeat it silently to yourself three times.
Now we visit the waking state through the body itself.
The home in which you live in this life.
Your awareness will travel around the body like a soft light moving gently from room to room.
Bring your attention to your right hand.
And to your right hand thumb.
First Finger.
Second finger.
Bad finger.
And Littlefinger.
Palm.
Back of the hand.
Breath.
Forearm.
Elbow.
Upper arm.
Shoulder.
Armpit.
Right side of the waist.
Bye.
Some.
Car.
Ankle.
Heal.
Soul of the foot.
Top of the foot.
Your rights be told.
Second toe.
Third toe.
Fourth toe and little toe.
The whole right side of the body.
Softly lit.
Now move your attention to your left hand.
And to your left hand thumb.
First finger.
Second finger.
Third finger.
And Littlefinger.
Back of the hand.
Rest.
Forum.
Elbow.
Upper arm.
Shoulder.
Armpit.
Left side of the waist.
Thigh.
Me.
Sir.
Car.
Ankle.
Heal.
Soul of the Foot.
Top of the foot.
Your left big toe.
Second time.
The Toe.
Fourth toe and little toe.
The whole left side glowing in the same gentle light.
Moving to the back body.
The back of the head.
Back of the neck.
Right shoulder blade.
Left shoulder blade.
Off the bat.
Middleback.
Lower back.
The whole spine,
A thread of soft light running from the crown of your head all the way down your spine.
Move your attention to the crown of your head.
Feel the soft,
Gentle light here.
Then to your forest.
Your right eyebrow.
And your left eyebrow.
And the space between your eyebrows.
A tiny point of light resting here.
Your right eye.
Left Eye.
Right ear.
Left ear.
Right Cheek.
Left cheek.
Your nose.
The tip of your nose.
Upper lip.
Lower lip.
Your mouth.
Your teeth.
And your tongue.
Your jaw.
And your throat.
Your right collarbone.
And left collarbone.
And the space between your collarbones.
Right side of chest.
Left side of chest.
The center of your chest.
The lights glowing here.
Quietly.
At the heart.
The whole right leg.
The whole left leg.
Both legs together.
The whole right arm.
And the whole left arm.
Both arms together.
From the left to the right.
The right to the left.
Top to the bottom.
Front to the back.
The whole body together.
The whole body together.
The whole body.
Together.
Filled with light.
Gently glowing from within.
Every room of the house.
From the inside out.
The whole house is resting.
And the lamp inside.
Remains softly lit.
Aware.
Of it all.
Become aware of your breath once again.
Don't change it.
Simply notice it.
Feel the gentle rise as you breathe in.
And the gentle fall.
As you breathe out.
Now imagine a spiral staircase winding softly down into the quiet heart of the house.
There are nine steps.
With each breath out,
Take one step down.
And as you go,
You drift lower.
Like a feather floating down through still evening air.
Breathing in.
Nine.
Breathing out.
Softening.
Breathing in.
AIMS.
Breathing out.
Stepping down.
The noise of the day.
Is far above you now.
Breathing in seven.
Breathing out.
At Feather.
Turning softly in the air.
Breathing in sick.
Breathing out.
Sink deeper.
Into stillness.
Breathing in five.
.
.
Breathing out.
Halfway down.
The air is warm and quiet.
Breathing in,
Fall.
Breathing out,
Drifting lower.
Breathing in three.
Breathing out.
Deeper still.
Breathing in too.
Breathing out almost there.
Breathing in one.
Breathing out.
The feather comes to rest.
At the foot of the stairs.
Landing.
Without a sound.
Now let the counting go.
And let the breath.
Breathe itself.
Now we move to the dreamlike world of feeling and imagination by exploring the sensation of opposites.
Awaken the feeling of dawn.
A soft pale light is spreading.
And the world is just beginning to start.
Now awaken the feeling of dusk.
The light is fading to a deep blue.
And the world is settling for the night.
Now feel the world as solid.
Like the waking world,
Everything is fixed in place with clear edges.
Now,
Feel it as fluid,
Like a dream.
Shapes melt.
Shift and flow into one another.
Now awaken the feeling of darkness.
Deep,
Velvet darkness,
Like the night sky without a single star.
Soft,
Vast,
And still.
The darkness of deep sleep,
Where nothing needs to be seen.
Now.
Awaken the feeling of light.
Clear.
Golden light.
Pouring in from every direction.
Warm on the skin.
Filling every corner.
Of the house.
Now hold both together.
Darkness and light,
Side by side.
The deep night and the bright day,
Held at once,
With no need to choose between them.
Dawn and dusk.
Solid and fluid.
Dark and light.
Each one arrived.
And each one passed.
But they were all held in the light.
The lamp.
Stayed Lit.
Now we come to the heart of today's practice.
Feel the body resting here.
Its way.
It's warm.
The places where it meets the ground.
This is the self.
Of the waking world.
It is felt.
It is known.
Gently ask.
Is this all that I am?
Notice that the body and some senses appear in awareness,
The way the rooms of the house are lit by the lamps.
Now notice the inner world.
Images.
Memories.
Feelings,
The flow of thoughts.
This is the self that dreams.
It is fluid and shifting,
A world the mind makes by itself.
It is known.
Is this all that I am?
Like the images of a dream,
It comes and goes.
Notice even the sense of being me,
Someone with a name,
A history,
And a story.
This too appears in awareness.
Like a character in a dream.
It is known.
Is this all that I am?
Now notice the quiet beneath it all.
Beneath the thorn.
The stillness.
The soft darkness.
This is the flavor of deep sleep.
The self that rests when everything else has gone.
And it too comes and goes.
You enter it each night.
And leave it each morning.
Even this peace is known.
Is this all that I am?
Now.
Simply notice.
What is still here?
It isn't the waking body.
It isn't the dreaming mind.
It isn't even the stillness of sleep.
It's what all three have been appearing in.
Notice that you are aware.
Right now.
Just this simple,
Quiet knowing.
There's nothing here to practice.
Nothing to become.
Nowhere to go.
Before the first thought of this morning.
You were here.
Beneath the deepest dream.
You were here.
In the darkest,
Dreamless sleep.
You were here.
And now,
As these words grow fewer.
You are here.
Let the voice,
Soften,
Know inside.
No outside.
Only this.
The peace beyond all understanding.
Only this.
This.
Is the fourth.
Gently allow your sankalpa to arise once again by itself,
Like first light of the morning.
Prepare to repeat it again three times,
With feeling,
For word,
Thought,
And deed.
Awakening this part of you,
Like waking a small child from a sweet slumber.
Welcoming this part of yourself into the world that awaits.
Remembering the power of this moment.
To become.
All you can imagine yourself to be.
All that you are.
I am resting.
And what is always here.
I am awareness at peace.
Beneath it all,
I am home.
Slowly,
The house begins to wake.
Become aware of the breath.
And let it deepen a little.
Feel the body resting on the floor or the bed.
And its weight.
Feel the points of contact.
The curtains begin to open.
Become aware of the sounds in the room.
And outside it.
Picture with your mind's eye the room that you are actually in.
Begin to gently give movement to your fingers and your toes.
Maybe have a stretch,
Whatever feels good for your body,
As you make your return back to your world.
And as you return to the waking world.
Remember that the light comes with you.
Remember you can return to it at any moment.
Simply.
By noticing you're aware.
The promise of the pause.
May the light that has kept you all your days go before you into the morning.
And in the noise of the waking world.
Hold you,
Steady as a lamp.
In a windless place.
May it walk with you through the halls of dreaming and when the night grows along within you.
May you turn and find it waiting.
Softly burning.
Never once having left.
And when the last light in the window dims,
And even the word for it falls away.
May you know the light you have searched for all your life is the very light you have been searching for.
This practice of Yoga Nidra.
Is now complete.
Thank you for taking the time.
To practice with me today.
