Welcome to this yoga nidra practice for the spring equinox.
Resting in the balance of renewal.
Take a moment to settle yourself into a comfortable resting position.
To feel fully supported by the surface beneath you.
Nothing to hold,
Nothing to achieve,
Just this quiet arrival.
The practice of yoga nidra gently supports deep rest,
Nervous system settling and embodied listening.
It can support the body in remembering its natural rhythm of restoration and renewal.
You are invited to meet this practice in whatever way feels right for you today.
Let your eyes softly close and,
If they prefer to remain open,
Just allow the gaze to rest unfocused.
The spring equinox,
A turning point in the great rhythm of the earth.
A day when light and darkness stand in quiet equality.
Neither one dominating,
Both present,
Both necessary.
Across many cultures this threshold has been honoured as a time of gentle awakening.
Not a sudden beginning,
But the quiet return of movement after deep rest.
The earth begins to warm,
Snow melt feeds the rivers,
Seeds stir beneath the soil,
Sap rises slowly through the trees,
Life remembering how to grow again.
Let these words arrive softly,
Like the first warmth touching the ground after a long winter.
No need to analyse them,
Simply allow their rhythm to settle somewhere in the body.
Now begin by noticing the natural rhythm of your breath,
There is no need to change it.
Just sensing the quiet rise and fall,
The subtle expansion through the ribs,
The soft release through the belly,
Perhaps the breath feels light today,
Perhaps steady,
Perhaps almost imperceptible,
Allow your breath to become a gentle companion,
A quiet tide moving through the body.
Bring awareness to the places where your body meets the earth beneath you.
The weight of the heels,
The back of the thighs,
The pelvis resting heavy and supported.
The length of the spine being held.
Notice how the ground receives you without effort,
Without expectation.
You are already supported.
Allow the shoulders to soften,
The shoulder blades resting wide across the back body.
The arms heavy,
The hands relaxed,
Fingers naturally uncurling.
Like the slow opening of leaves in the early days of spring.
Now begin a slow and spacious journey through the body.
Bring awareness to the crown of the head,
The scalp softening,
The forehead smoothing.
The space behind the eyes growing quiet and spacious.
The cheeks releasing,
The jaw loosening,
The tongue resting softly in the floor of the mouth.
Allow the throat to remain open and unguarded.
A place where nothing needs to be said.
Awareness moves into the shoulders.
Notice any places that still might feel slightly lifted or watchful.
The shoulders,
The elbows,
The wrists,
Perhaps there is warmth here.
Perhaps a subtle vibration.
Perhaps simple stillness.
All sensations are welcome.
Bring awareness to the center of the chest,
The heart space.
Not as an idea,
But as a felt sensation.
The ribs widening slightly with each inhale,
Softening with each exhale.
The back of the heart resting into the support beneath you.
Imagine this area touched by a soft morning light.
A quiet illumination.
Like the first pale sunlight spreading across a landscape at dawn.
Awareness drifts down into the solar plexus.
The upper belly,
The place of digestion and inner fire.
During the winter month,
This fire has rested,
Burning low.
Now it begins to glow again.
Not in urgency,
But in quiet readiness.
Allow the breath to move here.
Expanding.
Releasing.
Bring awareness into the lower abdomen and pelvis.
A deep bowl within the body.
A place of cycles.
Of gestation.
And renewal.
During the winter month,
Life gathered inward here.
Resting.
Listening.
Now imagine the soil of this inner landscape slowly warming.
Soft.
Moist.
Fertile.
Alive with unseen movements.
Seats remembering their purpose.
Bring awareness into the hips.
The ankles.
The soles of the feet.
The toes.
Sense the entire lower body as one grounded field of sensation.
Stable.
Connected to the earth.
Now sense the whole body at once.
From the crown of the head to the soles of the feet.
Breathing.
Resting.
Held within the quiet support of the earth.
Imagine the body lying within a wide spring landscape.
The soil dark and rich.
The air cool but softening.
Tiny green shoots emerging through the ground.
Birdsong returning in the distance.
Nothing is rushing.
Nothing is forced.
Growth happens quietly.
In its own timing.
Now with the next few breaths begin to sense a subtle balance within your body.
As you inhale,
Sense the body receiving light.
As you exhale,
Sense the body settling toward the earth.
Light above.
Earth below.
Both holding you equally.
Balance is already here.
Now imagine standing within a vast open landscape.
Before you stretches the horizon.
The place where earth and sky meet.
This ancient line where light and darkness greet each other every day.
At the equinox,
This meeting becomes perfectly balanced.
Neither longer,
Neither shorter.
Simply equal.
Feel the quality of this balance in your body.
Not rigid.
Not controlled.
Like two kerns flowing in natural harmony.
Balance is already here.
Now imagine a simple threshold appearing along the horizon.
Perhaps a pair of standing stones.
Opening between young trees.
Perhaps a simple gate woven from branches and spring wine.
This is the equinox threshold.
A place between seasons.
Between what has rested and what is beginning to grow.
You do not need to cross it.
You are already standing within the moment of transition.
Feel the threshold within the body.
A place where something has completed its winter rest.
And something new is quietly preparing to unfold.
Here,
Where light and dark meet.
Where life remembers its wholeness.
Somewhere within you,
There is a small seed of possibility.
It may live in the heart.
The belly.
The pelvis.
Or somewhere entirely unexpected.
There is no need to search.
Simply allow the body to reveal where this quiet seed is resting within you.
This seed holds the intelligence of the coming cycle.
Not a demand.
Not a goal.
Just a natural impulse toward life.
Notice the quality of this seed.
Perhaps it feels warm.
Perhaps spacious.
Perhaps almost invisible.
Allow the breath to move gently around it.
Like spring rain soaking into the soil.
Nothing needs to happen.
The body already knows the timing of its unfolding.
Balance is already here.
Now,
Gradually,
Begin to return awareness to the natural movement of the breath.
The fall.
The gentle expansion and release.
Feel again the contact between your body and the earth beneath you.
The support holding you.
Invite small movements into the body.
A wiggle of the fingers.
A soft movement of the toes.
Perhaps a slow stretch if it feels good.
And when you feel ready,
Allow the eyes to softly open.
Let the light return gradually.
Carrying with you this sense of balance.
This quiet readiness.
This remembrance that life unfolds in cycles.
The practice of yoga nidra comes to a gentle close.
Thank you for the gift of your presence.
And I would love to hear from you if there is anything you'd like to share about your experience.
