Welcome.
I'm Tamron Jewell.
And I'm honored.
To be here with you this evening.
Find a comfortable position now.
Let your body settle.
Into whatever is beneath you.
Feel the weight of the day slowly releasing from your shoulders your jaw.
In your hands.
Take one long breath in through your nose.
And let it go.
Again.
Know where you need to be tonight.
Nothing left to tend to.
You have done enough.
You are enough.
Let this story carry you now.
You are standing at the edge of a mountain lake.
At the very end of a summer day.
The sun has already slipped behind the ridge.
You just missed it.
But it has left the sky painted in colors that don't quite have names.
A soft rose,
A gold that isn't quite gold.
The blue of something holy.
Deepening at the edges of the world.
The air is cool here.
But not too cold.
The kind of cool that feels like a gift.
After a long warm day.
You breathe in,
And it tastes faintly of pine.
Stone.
Water.
Altitude.
The lake before you is perfectly still.
Not the stillness of something asleep.
But the stillness of something listening.
You watch the surface for a moment.
It holds the whole sky that rose,
That nameless gold,
Mirror perfect.
As if the lake simply decided to carry the beauty of this moment.
So you wouldn't have to hold it.
Alone.
You find a smooth,
Flat edge.
Rock near the water's edge.
And you sit.
It is warm beneath you.
The soil has been drinking in sunlight all day.
And the warmth.
Travels up through your body slowly moving through your hips.
Softening your lower back settling something into your spine that has been holding on for longer than you knew Let it soften now.
Good.
Somewhere behind you,
A single bird calls out.
It's a clear and hurried note.
And then it goes quiet.
Trees at the far shore are dark now.
The reflections wavering just slightly in the water as the first breath of evening moves through You notice your breathing has already slowed.
To match this place.
And and out.
And and out.
There is a small stone near your hand.
You pick it up without thinking.
Its smooth grey.
Oval.
Small enough to close your fingers around it.
It fits your palm the way stones always seem to fit palms,
Perfectly,
As if it was always meant to be held.
You rub your thumb across its surface Cool.
Then a little warmer you have been carrying so much not just today,
But for a long time now.
You've been carrying the worrying,
The planning.
The replaying of conversations the long list of things that need your attention,
That never quite gets any shorter.
You have been so faithful about carrying it all Put this stone in your hand.
It has been there for thousands of years.
It does not carry anything.
It simply is heavy.
Patient and complete.
You open your hand and look at it resting in your palm.
And gently.
.
.
So gently.
You've got it.
It makes a soft sound as it touches the water.
A small plunk.
One perfect ring moved outward from that spot.
Than another.
And another.
The rings grow wider and slower until they reach the far shore.
And disappear into nothing.
And the lake?
Is still again.
What if you are as still as that lake?
Underneath everything.
Underneath the ripples the movement.
The disturbance of this one precious life.
You are the still.
You always have been As you gaze upward,
The first star appears.
They arrived so quietly.
The way the truths do.
The way sleep does.
Not rushing toward you,
But simply becoming as you become ready.
The mountains on the far shore are dark shapes now.
Those mountains are enormous and so still they have been there for millions of years They will be here long after your particular worries have dissolved into the atmosphere.
They hold nothing against you.
They hold nothing at all.
They simply rise and by rising,
Offer a place for your eyes to rest rest them there.
On those dark,
Patient shapes you let your gaze go soft not looking at anything receiving what the evening is offering.
Without needing to name it.
Or keep it.
Or even understand it.
The water makes a quiet sound at the shore near your feet.
It's almost as if the lake is breathing with the small lapping.
Or maybe it's you breathing.
Reflected back to you.
Your body grows heavier on that warm stone heavier and warmer.
And with that feeling comes presence It's almost as if gravity has noticed you finally stopped fighting it.
And has welcomed you back with open arms.
Let yourself be heavy now Let the earth hold you.
It has always been holding you.
You were just too busy to feel it.
Now the stars have multiplied the sky deepens from blue into blue-black.
And into something infinite and soft.
A half moon has risen.
It lays a long silver road across the water.
Begins somewhere on the far shore,
Ending right here.
At your feet.
It's almost as if.
.
.
It came specifically for you.
As if the whole evening arranged itself just to offer you this beautiful setting.
The rock,
The water.
The cooling air.
The steady darkness.
And a silence that asks nothing and gives everything.
Feel secure It feels comforting.
Allow yourself to relax and rest in the idea that you do not have to go back tonight.
Whatever is waiting will still be there.
Patient.
And manageable.
After you have enjoyed this good night's rest this rest that you need,
That you deserve,
That feels so healing for your body It feels so good to be here right now.
Right where you are.
Your eyelids are heavy,
Heavy in a beautiful way.
Let them fall.
The last thing you carry with you into sleep is the silver road on the water.
Remember the way it shimmered?
And the way it seemed to whisper.
You belong here.
You belong.
Can you do?
You always have.
Now it's your turn to rest Rest in comfort.
Rest in stillness The lake knows how to be still.
And so do you so you.
You.
Sleep now.
Sleep.
