Letting yourself arrive,
Not just into this meditation,
But into this quiet heart of winter.
This turning point of the season is a moment of deep stillness.
So we can begin by just finding a comfortable seat and taking a posture that supports that balance between being alert and also relaxed.
So letting the spine just rise gently.
You might even imagine a string pulling up from the crown of your head to just elongate and straighten the spine.
And palms can be resting face down or face up on the thighs.
Letting the shoulders soften,
Letting the belly be soft.
And if it is safe and comfortable for you,
Allowing the eyes to close.
Otherwise,
Just having a soft gaze,
Not fixating or staring,
But just a nice relaxed gaze.
And take a few easy breaths here to begin.
Just noticing the sensations that are present on the inhalation and on the exhalation.
So you might notice temperature or vibration.
And so that we can rest our mind and body in the same place,
It might be helpful to just lightly name.
This is breathing in,
And this is breathing out.
Just softly noting.
There's no need to deepen or to shape the breath in any way.
Just observing.
Noticing how the body really breathes itself.
This meditation is a gentle invitation to really align with the rhythm of the earth right now.
To really allow ourselves to rest in this pause that winter brings.
And as the earth inhales through autumn,
Drawing inward,
This winter solstice time is like the still point,
That pause between the in-breath and the out-breath,
Between gathering and releasing.
So let yourself sense into that rhythm right now in your own body.
The inhale and that subtle moment where the breath makes just a slight pause before the exhale and really bringing a heart of curiosity and interest to that space between.
And we're not efforting here in any way,
Not attempting to hold that space longer.
Just an invitation to notice that moment.
Noticing that liminal space between what was before and what's to come.
It might be brief,
Yet that space is infinite,
Wide,
Quiet,
Yet totally full of presence.
And in this liminal space,
There's nothing to do.
There's nothing to fix.
We're only noticing with curiosity and interest,
The space between is like this.
Staying with that whole cycle of the breath.
What does this pause feel like in your body?
Is it a moment of stillness?
Is it easeful?
Is there any tension?
Just notice this space between the breaths is a mirror of the winter solstice.
When the sun appears to stand still,
It's neither rising or falling.
It's just resting at its lowest point.
So we let our attention rest gently in this space between movement,
Between becoming.
And whenever that next breath arises,
We just let it come naturally,
Effortlessly.
Just as the earth turns once more towards the light.
Just a natural rhythm again and again,
Moving into the sacred pause.
And if the mind wanders,
As minds tend to do,
Notice where it went,
It go to thoughts of the past,
Thoughts of the future,
To some other experience.
Wherever it went,
Just lovingly guide it back.
Back to this breath and back to the felt sensation of this moment of what's right here.
There is great wisdom in stillness.
We don't need to chase it.
We don't need to understand it.
We don't need to figure anything out.
Instead,
We're simply listening,
Opening,
Being receptive to what's there,
Just trusting and staying.
So letting yourself rest deeply.
Resting deeply in this breath that is not yet becoming.
Resting with that moment that holds both.
Holding both what was and what's to come,
Spacious,
Present,
Fresh wakefulness.
Right here,
Right now.
No matter what arises in the course of our practice,
Treating all experience with loving kindness,
This too has a place in practice.
If we notice distraction or sleepiness or agitation,
Remembering that these things are not keeping us from our practice,
Remembering that this is part of our practice and returning again and again,
Returning to that space between the in-breath and the out-breath,
That moment of stillness.
