My name is Alejandro and welcome.
This meditation was created to support you as you continue navigating your healing journey after religious trauma.
Before we begin.
I want to remind you that you are in control of this experience.
You do not have to close your eyes.
You do not have to sit in a particular position.
And you don't have to breathe in any special way.
You are welcome to pause.
Moves.
Keep your eyes open,
Close them.
Or even stop this meditation.
At any moment.
Here,
There's nothing you must believe.
Nothing you must prove.
Take wood.
Feel supportive and gently leave behind anything that does not.
Let us begin by noticing the space around you.
Without rushing.
Allow your eyes to look around the room.
Notice the colors.
The shapes.
The light and the shadows.
Perhaps.
A door,
A window.
Or any other object that reminds you of where you are.
You are here.
In this place.
In this present moment.
You are now being asked to return to the past.
You're not being asked to.
Relieve anything.
You're simply being invited to.
Notice that you're here now.
If it feels comfortable.
Bring attention to the places where your body is being supported.
Notice the ground beneath your feet,
The chair,
The bed,
The floor beneath you.
Perhaps notice the weight of your body being held.
For these next few moments.
Allow the surface beneath you to support you.
You may gently press your feet into the ground.
Noticing the steadiness beneath you.
You may place a hand over your heart.
Your belly.
Or anywhere else that feels comforting.
You may also allow your hands to rest beside you.
There is no correct position.
There is only the position that feels right.
Most supportive to you today.
Begin to notice your breathing.
There's no need to change it.
Simply notice that your body.
.
.
Already knows how to breathe.
Breathing in.
Breathing out.
Your breath doesn't need to be deep.
It doesn't need to become it.
Doesn't need to become anything other than what it is.
Just notice one breath arriving.
One breath leaving.
Perhaps.
Silently say.
I am here.
As you breathe in.
And I am allowed to be here.
As you breathe out.
Religious trauma can teach the body to remain alert.
To watch for punishment,
To fear questions.
To mistrust,
Desire,
Uncertainty.
Anger.
Or even joy.
You may have been taught that.
Safety depended.
On Opinions.
That belonging depended on.
On agreement.
That love could be taken away if you changed it.
Questioned.
Or became more fully yourself.
Your body may still carry some of those messages.
And if it does?
There's nothing wrong with you.
Your body learned how to protect you.
Your fear.
Your doubt.
Your anger are not signs of failure.
Your survival responses were your body's attempt to help you endure something that did not feel safe.
Soap.
Take a moment to acknowledge the part of you that survived.
You don't have to force gratitude.
You do not have to make peace with everything that happened.
Simply recognize.
I made it here.
I am still here.
And I am learning what safety can feel like now.
Now imagine that around you is a gentle boundary.
It may appear as light.
Warmly.
Color,
Or simply a sense of space.
This boundary does not isolate you.
It protects your right to choose what enters into your life.
Inside this boundary,
You don't have to perform.
You don't have to confess.
You don't have to explain yourself.
Or make yourself smaller to be accepted.
You're allowed to decide what you believe.
To decide what.
You no longer believe.
You're allowed to.
Change your mind.
To take your time.
To say no.
To say.
I don't know.
You're allowed to live.
Without having every answer.
Here.
You're allowed to be.
Just as you are.
Perhaps.
You have been searching for permission to trust yourself again.
Let this moment remind you that your inner voice still belongs to you.
It may feel quiet.
It may feel uncertain.
It may have been buried beneath the voices of leaders.
Communities,
Doctrines of expectations.
But it's still there.
You don't have to hear it clearly today.
Healing does not.
Require immediate certainty.
For now.
It is enough to become curious.
To ask.
What feels safe to me.
What feels honest.
What helps me feel whole?
What allows my body to soften?
Even slightly.
You don't need to answer these questions right now.
Simply allow them to exist without judgment.
Your questions.
Are welcome here.
Your uncertainty.
Is welcome here.
Get grief.
Your anger.
Your hope.
All of you.
Is welcome here.
Now gently.
Repeat these words silently or aloud.
You're always welcome to change them.
So they feel true to you.
I am allowed to heal at my own pace.
I am allowed to question.
What I was taught.
I am allowed to trust my experiences.
I am not wrong.
For needing safety.
I am not broken.
Because I was hurt.
I do not have to earn love.
I do not have to earn rest.
I do not have to abandon myself to belong.
My boundaries.
Are worthy of respect.
My voice matters.
My body.
Belongs to me.
My life.
Belongs to me.
I am learning.
Trust myself again.
I am loved.
I am supported.
I am always enough.
Now notice what happens inside you as you hear those words.
You may feel comfort.
Or resistance you may.
Feel grief.
Anger.
Relief.
Numbness.
Or nothing at all.
Every response.
This alone.
Healing.
Is not a test of faith.
It is not a straight path.
Some days.
Healing may feel like reclaiming your voice.
Other days it may look like resting.
It may look like crying.
Setting a boundary.
Leaving a conversation,
Asking.
Difficult question.
Finding a new community.
Returning to a spiritual practice in a different way or Choosing not to practice at all.
You are allowed to discover.
What healing means for you.
Bring your attention back to the support beneath your body Notice your feet.
Your hands.
Your breath.
And look around the room again.
Perhaps.
Finding three things you can see.
Notice.
One sound you can hear.
Notice.
One place in your body that feels neutral,
Steady.
Or support it.
Doesn't have to feel completely calm.
Even a small sense of steadiness.
Is enough.
One more natural breath.
No need to make it deeper.
Simply allow it to arrive.
And allow it to leave.
As this meditation comes to an end.
Remember that you lose.
Do not need to rush back into your day.
You may stretch.
Move your fingers or your toes.
Drink some water.
Write in a journal.
Sit in silence.
Or reach out to someone who helps you feel supported.
We are not failing because healing takes time.
You are not lost.
Because you have questions.
You're not unworthy because your path has changed.
You are still home.
Even.
While you're healing.
You are still worthy,
Even in uncertainty.
You are still deserving of love.
That does not frighten or manipulate.
Control.
Or punish you.
May you continue creating.
Safety within you.
And around you.
But you continue reclaiming your voice.
May you remember that you are allowed to belong to yourself.
When you're ready.
Gently.
Return to the space around you.
Taking your time.
At your own pace.
You are here.
You are loved.
You are supported.
And for this moment.
Fact.
Is enough.
