Allow yourself to settle,
Whether that's seated or lying down.
Finding a comfortable position.
Begin to notice the surface beneath you.
The chair or the floor,
The earth below all of it.
Holding you as it always does.
Without condition.
Without requiring anything from you first.
Drop your shoulders,
Soften your forehead,
Loosen your jaw.
And if it feels comfortable,
An invitation to softly close your eyes or lower your gaze somewhere steady.
And take a slow breath in.
And a long,
Easy breath out.
Let this breath be permission permission to arrive,
To stop performing.
Even just for now.
To let yourself be exactly as you are in this moment,
In this room.
Take one more slow breath in.
And out.
Now gently,
I want to invite you to think about worth.
Not the word,
The feeling.
Can you bring to mind a moment?
It doesn't have to be dramatic.
When you felt your worth was eroded.
A moment when you were dismissed.
Or overlooked.
Or when you offered something of yourself.
And it was received.
As though it cost nothing.
Or perhaps it was quieter than that.
A lifetime of small moments.
The slow accumulation of being told.
In ways subtle and direct.
That you are a little too much.
Or not quite enough.
Or perhaps.
.
.
That your value was conditional.
Dependent on what you produced.
Who you pleased.
How little space you took up.
Just notice what arrives.
Not trying to judge it.
Just being curious.
Without having to do anything.
Where do you feel this in your body?
Perhaps a tightening in your chest.
Heaviness in your belly.
A familiar ache in your shoulders as if you're bracing for something.
Now.
Beneath all of that,
Beneath the noise of other people's opinions.
Beneath the stories you've inherited.
Beneath the evidence you have collected over the years for why you might not be enough.
There is something else.
Something quieter.
Something that has always been there.
It doesn't shout.
He doesn't need to.
And it simply is.
A deep,
Unearned,
Unconditional knowing that you have worth.
Not because of what you have achieved.
Not because of what you look like.
Not because of how useful you've been to other people.
Simply because you exist.
Because you are here.
Because something in the universe decided to make you.
And that is not a small thing.
The chances of you specifically being born.
Are about 1 in 400 trillion.
Let's sit with that for a moment.
Can you feel it?
Even faintly.
It might feel unfamiliar.
It might feel something you have to earn the right to claim.
That feeling is the erosion talking,
Not the truth.
The truth is quieter.
And it has been waiting patiently.
For you to stop listening to the noise long enough to hear it.
Take a slow breath in to wherever you are holding tension right now.
And on the exhale,
See if you can just let a little of the noise soften.
Not gone,
Just quieter.
Just enough to hear what has always been there underneath.
Stay here for a few breaths with this knowing.
Colour for faint.
However unfamiliar.
It is yours.
It's always been yours.
When you are ready.
Start to bring your attention to the surface beneath you.
Beginning to feel the room around you.
The warm.
The light,
The sounds.
Maybe wriggling your fingers,
Wriggling your toes,
Stretching.
Taking a gentle breath in and let it go slowly.
Carrying with you a little more access to what you already know.
Deep down beneath the noise,
You have always known.
You are exactly enough.
Exactly as you are.
You
