Hello,
And good to have you here.
If you're hearing this,
You're probably awake.
Somewhere in the middle of the night.
That quiet,
Strange space between too late and too early.
Maybe you're lying there,
Wondering why sleep won't come.
You are tired.
You are ready.
And still,
You're here.
And maybe,
Just maybe,
That's the very reason it is hard.
You see,
Sometimes we want sleep a little too much.
We crave it,
Wait for it,
Try to make it happen.
But that wanting can stir us up inside.
The mind starts watching,
The body stays alert,
And sleep slips further away.
Because sleep isn't something we do,
It's something that happens.
Like a shy cat that only comes near us when we stop calling for it.
And that's also why I'm here.
Not to get you to sleep,
Not to fix anything about you,
But just to stay with you.
And your breath.
Maybe we start by just noticing the fact you're lying down.
That you're already being held by the bed beneath you.
By the stillness.
By this small pause in the middle of your night.
And now,
Feel your head.
Maybe your forehead softens a little.
Maybe your jaw lets go,
Like it's finally allowed to.
The eyes,
They don't need to stay alert.
They can just rest where they are,
As if floating in warm water.
Then slowly,
Your attention drifts downward,
Toward the neck,
The shoulders.
If there's any tension there,
You don't have to force it away.
Just invite it to loosen,
Like fabric unwrinkling on its own.
Your arms are lying still now.
The hands can grow heavy,
Soft,
Quiet.
Let them forget they were ever made for doing something.
Right now,
They just get to rest.
Now gently feel your breath in your chest.
No need to deepen it.
No need to count it.
Just feel it moving,
Lifting,
Lowering,
Like ocean waves at night.
Barely there,
But steady.
And beneath that,
Your belly.
Let it be soft.
No holding in.
No tension.
Just warmth and gravity.
Like an animal curling up to sleep.
Not needing to think.
Just ready to surrender.
And then,
We go even lower with our attention,
Into the hips,
The place where you are being supported.
Where weight meets stillness.
Let that heaviness travel down into your legs,
Your knees,
Your calves.
Everything softening as it goes.
And finally,
Your feet.
Those quiet little anchors that carried you through the day.
Now,
Finally,
They get to do nothing.
Just to melt,
To fall into the bed in whatever shape they choose.
Your whole body is resting now.
Breathing without effort.
Held by the night.
Held by stillness.
Held by nothing needing to happen anymore.
Maybe you'll fall asleep soon.
Maybe not just yet,
But either way,
You're already doing the most important thing.
Letting go.
Not trying.
Not fixing.
Just letting your body relax.
Letting go.
Letting go.
Letting go.
Letting go.
Letting go.
