Good morning.
Before anything else,
Before the day gathers its lists and starts handing it to you.
Just pause here for a moment.
Take a slow breath in.
And let it go.
This practice isn't about grand gestures or big realisations.
It isn't about counting your blessings in some performed dutiful way.
It's quieter than that.
It's about noticing.
Just noticing.
The small things that are already here,
Already good.
Already asking to be seen.
The morning knows things we forget when we get busy.
Let's borrow a little bit of that knowing today.
Notice where your body is right now.
The warmth of it.
The weight of it.
If you slept in the bed last night,
That is something.
The simple shelter of it.
The ordinary miracle of waking up somewhere safe.
Feel the surface beneath you.
The air around you.
Your breath moving in and out without you having to ask it to.
Your body has been working quietly through the night.
Your heart beating.
Your lungs breathing.
Everything ticking over faithfully while you rested.
That is worth a moment of acknowledgement.
Thank you,
Bodhi.
I see you.
I'd like to gently draw your attention to some of the small things that are already present in your morning.
Think of warmth.
Whether that's the warmth of a blanket.
Cup of tea or coffee held.
The warmth of sunlight finding its way through a window with cracks in the curtains.
Something warm that is yours this morning.
Just notice it.
Let it land.
Think of light.
However grey or golden or quiet.
The fact that the day has arrived again.
That the darkness gave way.
As it always does.
There is something in that.
The faithfulness of it.
Morning after morning.
After mourning.
The light,
It comes back.
Think of something in nature.
However small.
However close.
Maybe it's a bird you can hear outside.
Perhaps a plant on a windowsill?
Maybe the sound of rain or wind.
Or the particular stillness of an early morning before the world wakes up.
Nature doesn't ask whether today is worth showing up for.
It just does.
The robin sings,
The leaves dance in the breeze,
The tide comes in.
You are part of that same world,
Still here,
Still turning toward the light.
Gratitude doesn't have to be a grand feeling.
It doesn't have to arrive with a fanfare and music.
Sometimes it's a quiet yes.
A small internal nod to what is already good.
So I invite you to think of one thing.
Just one that you're glad of this morning.
It doesn't have to be significant.
In fact,
The smaller the better.
Hold it gently.
Let yourself really feel it.
Just be curious not to analyse it,
To just feel that gratitude.
That feeling,
However small,
Is real.
And it belongs to you.
Let these affirmations land wherever there is space.
I am grateful for the small things that make today livable.
I notice what is good.
Without it needing to be more than it is.
I belong to this morning.
And this morning belongs to me.
Take one more slow breath in.
And release.
Carrying something of this with you today.
Maybe not the whole practice,
Perhaps just the habit of noticing.
Cup in your hands,
The face of someone you love,
Maybe the sound of the wind or the rain,
Or the birds going about their day without worrying about it.
Their mourning already knows what matters.
And now,
Just for a moment,
So do you.
When you are ready.
An invitation to open your eyes and return to this space and wishing you a good morning and thank you for being here.
