Find a place where your body can rest,
Seated or lying down,
Where the world's demands fade for a moment.
Let the ground or chair beneath you carry your weight entirely,
Like a stone nestled in a quiet valley,
Held without question.
No striving,
No need to prove,
Just being.
If it feels right,
Let your eyes close,
Or rest your gaze on something soft and still.
Ease your shoulders down.
Let your breath find its own way,
Like a leaf drifting on a stream.
You're not here to force anything into place,
You're here to listen to the subtle hum of what already is.
Notice your breath now,
Not to shape it,
But to meet it,
Like catching the sound of wind moving through tall grass,
Faint,
Then clear.
A rise,
A fall,
Steady as the tide,
Effortless as the sky holding clouds.
There's no need to chase it,
It's already yours,
Already moving.
Inhale and feel the space within you open,
Soft as morning mist.
Exhale and let anything tight,
Your jaw,
Your hands,
Your mind,
Unwind.
Not because you must,
But because holding on is heavier than letting go.
Notice how your body already knows this,
How it seeks balance without being told.
This is not about mastering calm or silencing the world's noise,
This is about stepping lightly,
Like a deer through a forest,
Leaving no trace.
A quiet refusal to wrestle with life's currents,
Choosing instead to drift with them.
The world will pull,
But you can smile and slip through,
Like water around a stone.
Imagine a vast open field at dusk.
The sky is neither day nor night,
But something in between,
Neither rushing nor still.
The grass sways,
Not because it tries,
But because the breeze asks.
You are not separate from this,
Perhaps you're the field,
Or the breeze,
Or the moment where they meet.
There's no need to decide,
Just feel the sway,
The ease of things unfolding as they will.
If thoughts arise,
Plans,
Worries,
Questions,
Let them pass like clouds.
They don't need your grip,
They'll drift if you let them.
And if they linger,
That's okay too.
The sky doesn't argue with its clouds,
Nor the river with its ripples.
Everything belongs,
Yet nothing needs to stay.
Now,
Picture a single tree,
Its roots deep,
Its branches wide.
It doesn't strain to grow,
Yet it reaches.
It bends in the storm,
Yet stands through seasons.
Its strength is not in resisting,
But in yielding.
Soft where it needs to be,
Firm where it must.
You carry this same quiet power,
Not in pushing harder,
But in trusting the roots you've already grown.
Listen,
If you can,
To the silence beneath the sounds around you.
Not a forced stillness,
But the kind that holds everything.
Birdsong,
Breath,
The hum of your own pulse.
This is the pulse of life itself,
Moving without effort,
Weaving light and shadow into one.
You don't need to make it happen.
Your part is simpler,
To notice,
To rest in the flow,
To let the world breathe through you.
Stillness doesn't mean stopping,
It means moving with what is.
Strength is not in holding tight,
But in opening wide.
The simplest path is the one already under your feet.
Let these words settle,
Like rain sinking into earth.
No need to grasp them,
They're already part of the air.
Bring your attention back to your body now.
Trace its edges with a gentle curiosity,
Your shoulders,
Your spine,
The weight of your hands.
Where do you feel ease?
Where do you feel resistance?
No need to fix anything,
Just notice,
Like you'd notice the shape of a stone in your palm.
Invite your breath to soften what's tight,
Not out of effort,
But out of care.
Ask yourself,
Softly,
What would it be like to move through the day with less force?
To trust that the world's rhythm includes your own?
To meet each moment not as a challenge,
But as a partner in an unhurried dance?
There's no answer to chase,
The question itself is enough.
Linger here,
In this quiet space.
Let your presence be as simple as a pebble in a stream,
Still yet part of the current.
No need for grand gestures,
Just this.
If it feels right,
Rest a hand on your heart or your belly.
Feel the steady warmth there,
The proof of your own being.
No one else needs to approve this moment,
It's yours,
Complete as it is.
Begin to return now,
At your own pace.
Feel the air against your skin,
The subtle sounds of the world waking around you.
Move a finger or a toe,
Not because you must,
But because it feels,
Alive.
When you're ready,
Open your eyes.
Look at the world as if it's new,
Not because it's changed,
But because you've remembered something.
The flow was always there,
You're part of it.
Carry this lightness forward,
Step softly,
Trust deeply,
Keep listening.
