Welcome to Yoga Nidra for burnout recovery,
A practice for those times when you feel like you're running on empty.
My name is Sarah.
If you find this practice supportive,
You're warmly invited to follow me here on Insight Timer.
I share yoga nidra meditations designed to help you soften,
Step away from constant responsibility,
And create space for deep rest.
This practice is an invitation to pause,
Especially if you've been going for a long time without much opportunity to stop.
Perhaps you've been moving from one responsibility to the next.
Taking care of what needs to be done.
Showing up for the people who depend on you,
Making decisions,
Solving problems,
Keeping things moving.
Even when some part of you is tired.
Maybe you've noticed yourself saying,
I'll rest when I finish this,
When things settle down,
When everyone else is taken care of.
When I finally have enough time.
And somehow,
There is always something else.
When you've been carrying a lot for a long time,
It can be easy to keep going without realizing just how tired you've become.
Today's practice isn't about fixing everything that has brought you to this moment.
Or asking you to find more energy so you can keep pushing forward.
For these next few moments,
You don't have to keep going.
You don't have to decide what comes next.
You don't have to figure out how you'll get everything done.
You don't have to make yourself feel better.
You are simply being invited to stop and rest.
Throughout this practice,
I'll gently guide you through body awareness,
Breath,
And a peaceful journey to a cozy place where weary travelers are always welcome.
There is no way to do this practice wrong.
You don't need to clear your mind,
Make yourself relax,
Or create any particular experience.
Simply become comfortable and allow yourself to be guided.
Let's begin with a slow breath in.
And a long,
Easy breath out.
Allow yourself to settle into a comfortable position now.
You may lie down,
Recline,
Or remain seated if that feels supportive for you today.
Make any small adjustments you need.
Perhaps shifting your pillow.
Pulling a blanket a little closer.
Allowing your body to feel supported.
There is nowhere you need to be for these next few moments.
Nothing to answer.
Nothing to finish.
Nothing waiting for your immediate attention.
Take a slow breath in.
And perhaps exhale with a sigh.
Again,
Inhale.
And exhale.
Allow your shoulders to soften.
Your jaw to release.
Your hands to relax.
And perhaps notice if any part of you is still trying to keep going.
Still holding.
Still bracing.
Still preparing for whatever comes next.
You don't need to push it away.
Simply notice.
And for these next few moments,
Perhaps allow yourself to stop.
Nothing to carry forward.
Nothing to catch up on.
Nothing you need to get ahead of.
Now we'll gently count our way towards stillness.
One,
Softening the whole body.
To letting go with the breath.
3.
Allowing yourself to slow.
For unwinding.
Releasing.
Five,
Resting here.
Exactly as you are.
There's nowhere to get to.
Nothing to accomplish.
Nothing you need to find the energy for right now.
Enjoy this moment.
If at any point during this practice you would like an extra sense of comfort,
Imagine a place that feels peaceful,
Safe,
And supportive.
Perhaps somewhere familiar.
A favorite room.
A quiet corner of your home.
A comfortable chair.
Or simply a feeling of warmth and ease.
There is no need to create it perfectly.
Simply sensing its atmosphere is enough.
A place where you don't have to be on.
A place where nothing is expected of you.
Where you are welcome exactly as you are.
And before we continue,
Gently bring to mind a quiet intention for your practice today.
Perhaps something like,
I am allowed to stop and rest.
Repeat these words silently to yourself.
And again.
Allowing the words to settle gently into awareness.
You don't need to earn them or make yourself believe them perfectly.
Simply allowing the intention to be here.
Now allow your awareness to move slowly through your body.
Simply noticing each area as it is named.
No effort required.
Nothing to change.
Nothing to fix.
Nothing to manage.
Simply noticing.
Bring awareness to the face.
Ciao.
Tongue.
Cheeks.
No,
Psst.
Ears.
I love you forehead,
Scout.
The whole head.
Heavy.
Quiet.
Resting.
Notice the neck.
Shoulders.
Perhaps becoming aware of any tension you've been carrying.
Any place that has been working a little harder.
Holding a little more.
Continuing even when you're tired.
Allow the shoulders to soften.
Notice the arms.
Hands.
Palms.
Fingers.
Nothing to hold right now.
Become aware of the chest.
Art space.
Belly.
Saw.
Easy.
Nothing to brace against.
Notice the shoulder blades.
Between the shoulder blades.
The entire back.
Support it.
Become aware of the hips.
Legs.
Tones.
And now feel the whole body together.
The whole body resting.
Notice the surface beneath you.
Supporting your weight.
You don't need to hold yourself up.
You don't need to find the energy to keep going right now.
For these moments,
You can simply be supported.
Perhaps notice what it feels like to let your body stop working quite so hard to allow the surface beneath you to do some of the holding.
Let your body become a little heavier.
Your shoulders.
Your arms.
Your legs.
Your whole body settling.
There will be time to move again.
There will be time to work again.
There will be time to answer what needs answering.
But for now,
Nothing is required of you.
You are allowed to stop and rest.
Bring awareness now to your natural breath.
Nothing to change.
Nothing to deepen.
Nothing to control.
Simply noticing the body breathing itself.
Feel the inhale arriving.
Feel the exhale leaving.
Inhale.
Exhale.
And perhaps notice that the breath doesn't need you to make it happen.
The next breath doesn't need to prepare for the one after it.
It simply arrives.
And leave.
Arrive.
And leaves.
For these few moments,
Perhaps allow yourself to follow that same rhythm.
Nothing to push towards.
Nothing to get ahead of.
Simply this breath.
And then the next.
With each inhale,
Notice that you are here.
With each exhale,
Allow yourself to settle a little more deeply into this moment.
You don't need to find more energy.
You don't need to make anything happen.
Simply breathing.
Simply resting.
Continue in your own rhythm now.
And now,
Gently become aware of the feeling of depletion.
Perhaps the feeling of having given a little too much for a little too long.
Of continuing because there was still something that needed to be done.
Someone who needed you.
One more thing asking for your attention.
Notice how that feeling shows up in your body.
Perhaps heaviness.
Tension.
Weary nose.
Or simply a sense that you don't have much more to give.
There is nothing to change,
Nothing to push away,
Simply noticing.
And now become aware of the experience of being supported.
The surface beneath you holding your weight.
The breath moving without your effort.
Nothing asking anything from you in this moment.
Support it.
Owl.
Allowed to rest.
And now gently move between the two.
Depletion,
And support.
Airing and being held.
Effort.
And rest.
And now perhaps allow both to be here together.
You can be someone who cares deeply.
Who shows up.
Who carries responsibilities.
Who gives much of yourself.
And you can need rest.
One does not take away from the other.
You don't have to wait until you have nothing left to give before you're allowed to stop.
For these few moments,
Let yourself be supported.
Let yourself rest.
And now you are going on a journey.
You may begin to see yourself from above or perhaps from behind.
Traveling along a quiet country road as evening begins to settle around you.
You have been traveling for some time now.
Perhaps longer than you realized.
The road stretches behind you.
Winding through fields.
Trees.
And small towns you have already passed through.
And somewhere along the way,
Perhaps you became so focused on where you were going.
On continuing forward.
On reaching whatever came next.
That you stopped noticing just how long you had been traveling.
But now,
As the light begins to fade.
You become aware of how tired you are.
Perhaps you notice the weight of the bag you've been carrying.
The heaviness in your body.
The simple desire to stop moving for a little while.
And then,
Farther ahead,
You notice a warm light glowing through the trees.
As you move a little closer,
You see a small cottage tucked just off the road.
Warm golden light spills from the windows.
Flowers grow along the path.
A little smoke curls from the chimney into the evening sky.
Near the road is a small hand-painted sign welcoming travelers for the night.
You hadn't planned to stop here.
But something about this place feels inviting.
As though perhaps you have traveled far enough for today.
You make your way along the path towards the cottage.
Feeling the earth steady beneath you.
Let the evening air cool against your skin.
And when you reach the door,
You gently knock.
A few moments later,
The door opens.
A lovely older woman stands before you.
Her face warm.
Or smile kind.
She doesn't ask how far you've traveled or why you're tired.
Or how much farther you have to go.
She simply looks at you as though she understands.
And warmly invites you inside.
If you pause for a moment.
Noticing how you feel standing here.
There is something about this place.
The warmth is filling through the doorway.
The quiet of the evening.
The kindness in her faith.
That allows you to feel at ease.
You realize you would like to stay.
There is nowhere else you need to reach tonight.
And with that quiet decision made,
You step through the doorway.
You immediately notice the warmth.
A fire crackles softly in the fireplace.
Lamps cast a golden glow throughout the room.
Somewhere nearby,
You can smell something warm cooking.
Everything feels quiet.
Simple.
Unhurry.
An older man appears from another room and greets you with the same easy warmth.
He notices the bag you've been carrying.
And with a gentle smile reaches for it.
You can set everything down here,
He says.
And this time,
You allow yourself.
The weight of the bag leaves your hand as he quietly carries it away.
And perhaps for the first time in a while,
Notice what it feels like not to be carrying it anymore.
Your hand without its weight.
Your arm.
Your shoulder.
Nothing has been lost.
Nothing has been forgotten.
For now,
You simply don't have to carry it.
The woman invites you to settle into a comfortable chair beside the fire.
A soft blanket rests nearby and you pull it gently around you.
Feel the warmth of the fire against your skin.
The softness of the chair supporting your body.
The quiet crackle of the wood.
You don't need to explain why you're here.
You don't need to make conversation.
You don't need to decide what happens next.
For a little while,
You can simply sit beside the fire.
Warm.
Support it.
Still.
After some time,
The woman quietly lets you know that supper is ready,
Should you choose to have some.
A simple meal has already been prepared.
Something warm and nourishing.
Comforting.
She lets you know that you're welcome to sit at the table where a place has been set just for you.
Or if you'd rather stay curled beneath your blanket.
You're welcome to enjoy your meal right here beside the fire.
There is no expectation either way.
You notice how nice it feels to have a choice.
To ask yourself what would feel good to you right now.
And simply choose that.
Perhaps you make your way to the small table nearby.
Or perhaps your meal is brought to you beside the fire.
A warm bowl of soup or stew.
Fresh bread.
A cup of tea.
Whatever feels comforting to you.
The couple quietly returns to their evening chores elsewhere in the cottage.
Leaving you with space and privacy to enjoy your meal in peace.
There are no other guests here tonight.
No conversation you need to make.
No one you need to get to know.
No need to be anything other than exactly as you are.
For a little while,
This quiet space is yours.
Perhaps you noticed the warmth of the bowl.
The comforting aroma.
The first bite.
There is nothing you need to prepare.
Nothing you need to serve.
You simply allow yourself to receive what has been prepared for you.
No rushing.
No eating while answering something else.
They're thinking about the next thing you need to do.
Trust this meal.
This warm.
This moment.
And when you are finished,
Perhaps you notice the familiar impulse to help.
To gather the dishes.
To make yourself useful in some small way.
But tonight,
You are the guest.
When the woman returns,
She gently gathers the dishes and lets you know that everything is taken care of.
There is nothing more you need to do.
You settle once again into the warmth of the fire.
Perhaps holding your cup between your hands.
Watching the flames move slowly.
Listening to the quiet sounds of the cottage settling for the night.
Outside,
Darkness has fallen over the road.
The road is still there.
Whatever waits farther along your journey is still there too.
But you don't have to travel any farther tonight.
When you are ready,
The woman shows you upstairs to a quiet room prepared for you.
You step inside.
Thank Her.
And gently close the door behind you.
As the door closes,
Perhaps you feel something in you soften.
A breath you didn't realize you were holding releases.
Your shoulders drop a little.
For the first time all day,
Perhaps you have the sense that you are completely off duty.
This space is yours for the night.
You notice a small lamp glowing beside the bed.
Fresh sheets.
A thick quilt.
Perhaps a window overlooking the darkened fields and trees beyond the cottage.
And there,
Placed neatly in the corner,
Is your bag.
Everything you arrived with is still here.
Nothing disappeared because you stopped carrying it.
Nothing was forgotten because you allowed someone else to hold it for a while.
It will be there when you need it again.
Of for tonight.
You don't need to pick it back up.
You take a few moments to get comfortable for the night.
Settling in in whatever way feels natural to you.
And when you're ready,
You move towards the bed.
Pulling back the quilt.
And allowing yourself to settle beneath it.
Feel the softness beneath your body.
The warmth of the covers around you.
Pillow supporting your head.
And perhaps you notice how different it feels to stop after traveling for so long.
There may still be a road ahead of you tomorrow.
There may still be places to go.
Things to do.
People to care for.
Decisions to make.
You don't need to decide how you'll travel tomorrow.
Tonight,
You only need somewhere to rest.
And you have found it.
Perhaps you hear the faint crackle of the fire downstairs.
The quiet settling of the cottage.
The soft sounds of the night outside your window.
Nothing is asking you to keep moving.
Nothing is asking you to make yourself useful.
Nothing is asking you for more.
For tonight,
You have traveled far enough.
Allow the bed to hold your weight.
Let the cottage shelter you.
Let the night unfold without your effort.
You don't have to reach complete depletion before you're allowed to stop.
You don't have to prove how tired you are.
You don't have to earn this rest.
For these moments.
You are simply a weary traveler who has found somewhere warm to stay.
And perhaps that is enough.
The road will still be there in the morning.
Your bag will still be there when you are ready for it.
Whatever waits beyond this little cottage can wait too.
Tonight,
You are warm.
You are supported.
You are allowed to stop and rest.
And now,
Remember the intention you set at the beginning of your practice.
I am allowed to stop and rest.
Repeat these words silently to yourself three times,
Allowing them to settle naturally.
And now,
Slowly begin to return.
Allow the cottage.
A quiet room.
And the road you traveled begin to fade gently into the background.
Becoming more aware as you take a slow breath in.
And out.
Gradually returning to the present moment.
Here in this room where you began.
Five,
Feel steady.
Support it.
4.
Become aware of yourself as the witness.
Observing body.
Breath,
And experience.
3.
Notice thoughts,
Sensations,
And sounds returning to awareness.
To notice your breath.
Allowing it to deepen slightly.
One.
Sense your whole body resting here.
Gradually becoming more awake and aware.
Begin to invite small movements back into the body.
Wiggling your fingers.
Moving your toes.
Perhaps rolling your shoulders or taking a gentle stretch.
Take a fuller breath in.
And a slow breath out.
Notice how you feel.
Perhaps there are still things waiting for you beyond this practice.
Responsibilities,
Decisions.
People who need you.
Things that still need to be done.
They haven't disappeared.
But perhaps you don't have to pick everything back up all at once.
Just as your bag could rest safely in the corner of that quiet room.
Perhaps some things can remain set down a little longer.
You can decide what needs your attention when the time comes.
For now,
Notice the surface beneath you still holding your weight.
Notice your breath moving.
Notice that you are here.
You are allowed to pause before continuing.
You are allowed to rest before reaching complete depletion.
You are allowed to carry only what this moment asks of you.
You As you move into the rest of your day or evening,
Perhaps carry with you the reminder that stopping does not mean you have forgotten what matters.
Sometimes you can simply set it down for a while.
Bring your hands to heart center.
When it feels right,
Allow the eyes to open to a soft gaze.
Bow to yourself in appreciation for practicing today.
The light in me sees and honors the light in you.
Namaste.
