The Garden Of New Pathways

The Garden of New Pathways: A Neuroplasticity & Self-Compassion Meditation. Try this meditation to learn about neuroplasticity, and tend to the garden of your mind. This is important to reflect on as we overwhelm ourselves with thoughts and beliefs.

Transcript

Welcome to a NeuroSober meditation.

Find a comfortable position,

Either sitting or lying down.

Allow your eyes to gently close or soften your gaze toward the ground.

Take a deep breath in and let it go.

Now,

Begin by bringing your awareness to your body,

Right here,

Right now.

Notice the surface beneath you,

The chair,

The cushion,

The floor,

Supporting your weight completely.

You don't have to hold yourself up.

You can let go.

Now,

Feel your feet on the ground,

Your legs heavy and relaxed,

Your hands wherever they rest.

Take another deep breath and as you exhale,

Let your shoulders drop away from your ears.

Release any tension in your jaw.

Soften the space between your eyebrows.

Right now,

In this moment,

You are safe.

You are here.

And that is enough.

There's something miraculous happening inside your brain right now,

Something science has only recently begun to fully understand.

Your brain is not fixed.

It's not carved in stone.

Every moment of every day,

Your brain is reshaping itself based on where you place your attention,

Based on what you practice,

Based on the choices you make.

The old pathways,

The ones that led you to reach for something outside yourself,

Those pathways were carved deep,

Like trails worn into a hillside by years of walking the same route.

They became automatic,

Easy,

The path of least resistance.

But here's what neuroscience now knows with certainty.

New pathways can be grown,

Not overnight,

Not without intention,

But with patience,

With practice,

With compassion.

New pathways will emerge.

Let's bring awareness into your body now,

Practicing this gentle noticing.

Starting at the crown of your head,

Notice any sensations.

Warmth,

Coolness,

Tingling,

Or nothing at all.

Whatever is there is perfectly okay.

Your forehead,

Your eyes,

Your cheeks and jaw.

If you notice tension,

Just acknowledge it.

You don't need to fix it.

Just,

Hello tension,

I see you.

Down into your neck and shoulders,

These places that carry so much,

Breathe into them.

Your chest,

Your neck,

Your shoulders,

Your chest,

Your heart space.

Notice your breath moving in and out,

Like waves on a shore.

This breath has been with you through everything.

It has never abandoned you.

Your stomach,

Your belly.

Sometimes we hold emotions here.

Anxiety,

Shame,

Fear.

If you notice anything uncomfortable,

Place your hand there if you'd like.

Send warmth,

Send kindness.

Your hips and legs grounding you.

Your feet connecting you to the earth.

Take one more full body breath.

Breathing in from the crown of your head down to your toes.

Breathing out,

Releasing.

Now I want you to imagine something with me.

Picture yourself standing at the edge of an old,

Overgrown garden.

This garden represents your inner landscape.

Your mind,

Your patterns,

Your history.

Some of the garden is wild and tangled.

There are paths here that were walked so many times they became deep grooves in the earth.

These are your old patterns.

Your old ways of coping.

Your habitual responses to pain.

And if you look closely,

You can see that some of these old paths lead to places you don't want to go anymore.

Maybe they lead to a dark corner of the garden.

Maybe they circle endlessly.

Maybe they lead to a wall.

For a long time,

You walked these paths automatically.

In moments of stress,

Of loneliness,

Of celebration,

Of boredom.

Your feet knew exactly where to go.

The old pathway would light up and you would follow.

But look closer now.

Do you see them?

Small,

Faint trails beginning to emerge.

Places where the grass is just barely pressed down.

New pathways.

Tender,

Fragile,

But real.

Every time you chose differently,

You took a step on a new path.

Every time you felt a craving and didn't act on it,

You watered a new pathway.

Every time you reached out for connection instead of isolation,

You walked a new route.

Every time you sat with discomfort instead of numbing it,

You carved a new trail.

These new pathways don't feel automatic yet.

They require intention.

They require you to pay attention.

To choose consciously.

To sometimes push through the brush.

But here's what I want you to understand.

Every single time you walk one of these new paths,

It gets a little clearer.

A little wider.

A little easier.

This is not metaphor.

This is neuroscience.

This is neuroplasticity in action.

The old pathways?

They don't disappear completely.

They're still there and they always will be.

But here's the beautiful truth.

When you stop walking them,

They begin to fade.

Grass grows over them.

They become harder to see,

Harder to access.

And the new pathways?

With each passing day,

With each conscious choice,

They become the path of least resistance.

You are the gardener of this inner landscape.

And gardening requires patience.

It requires showing up,

Day after day,

Even when you can't see the growth happening beneath the soil.

Some days you'll find yourself on an old path without realizing how you got there.

This is not failure.

This is being human.

This is having a brain that learned deeply and well.

When this happens,

You don't need to shame yourself.

You don't need to burn the whole garden down.

You simply notice,

Ah,

I'm on the old path again.

And then,

With kindness,

With curiosity,

You gently redirect your steps back to the new trail you're growing.

This is the practice.

This is the transformation.

Not perfection.

Not never struggling.

But conscious,

Compassionate redirection.

Again and again and again.

And underneath all of this,

Underneath the pathways and the science and the daily practice,

There is a deeper truth.

You are not broken.

You never were.

You were a human being doing your best to survive,

To cope,

To manage pain with the tools you had at the time.

And now,

You are learning new tools.

You are becoming a person who tends their inner garden with wisdom and care.

This is not about becoming someone new.

This is about returning to who you've always been.

Beneath the patterns.

Beneath the pain.

Beneath the old pathways.

There is a part of you that has always been whole.

That has always been worthy.

That has always been enough.

That part of you has been waiting patiently for you to find your way back.

Take a deep breath in now,

Filling your lungs completely.

And release it,

Letting go of anything you don't need to carry.

Bring your awareness back to your body.

Wiggle your fingers and toes.

Place one hand on the floor.

One hand on your heart.

And one hand on your belly.

And offer yourself this truth.

I am growing new pathways.

I am tending my inner garden.

I am worthy of this transformation.

With patience.

With practice.

With compassion.

I am changing.

Take one more deep breath.

And when you're ready,

Gently open your eyes.