Home.
Even if part of you is still listening.
Even if rest hasn't fully arrived yet.
That's okay.
Lie down if you can.
Or sit.
Let your weight settle into whatever is holding you right now.
Your body doesn't have to stop being alert.
It just needs somewhere safe to be alert from.
Notice your breath.
Not to change it.
Just to find it.
Breathe in.
Slowly.
Let it come all the way in.
Breathe out.
Let it go all the way.
Do that again.
If your mind is still running,
That's fine.
It doesn't need to stop for your body to rest.
They can do different things right now.
Feel where your body meets the surface beneath you.
That surface is holding you.
You don't have to hold yourself right now.
Your back,
Your shoulders,
Your hips,
Your legs.
All of it being hell.
Let your hands go soft.
Not forced.
Just.
.
.
Allowed to open.
If your jaw is tight.
You can let it ease a little.
Not all the way.
Just a little.
The watchful part of you.
The part's still scanning.
It's doing what it knows how to do.
You don't have to fight it.
You can say to it quietly.
I know you're there.
We're okay right now.
You can rest too.
When you're ready.
Notice how your body is,
Even now.
Slightly softer than when you began.
The nervous system doesn't need complete silence to settle.
It just needs enough.
Unless.
.
.
Right here.
Can be enough.
Stay here.
Keep breathing.
Let the rest come however it comes.
You're not doing this wrong.
Rest doesn't always feel like rest at first.
Sometimes it just feels like staying.
And staying.
Is enough.
Keep breathing.
Keep settling.
You have time.
Nothing to fix.
Just here.
Let your breath carry you.