Fear Of Abandonment: Find Inner Safety For Deep Sleep

Release the fear of abandonment and reconnect with your inner sense of safety through this gentle bedtime meditation. As you prepare for sleep, soothe emotional wounds, let go of anxious thoughts, and cultivate self-love. Drift into a peaceful night feeling secure, supported, and deeply at ease.

Transcript

Sometimes it takes very little. A message goes unanswered. Someone seems more distant than usual. And suddenly your mind starts searching for what has changed. You re-read a conversation. You wonder if you said something wrong. The fear of being left out takes up immense space. Even though you do not yet know. What is really happening? If you know this fear. I would like us to take the time to listen to it tonight. It may come from past experiences. But it appears in very ordinary moments. It is trying to protect you from a loss. The problem is that it sometimes sounds the alarm before there is any real danger. This first meditation in our series on abandonment will help you recognize this moment and rediscover. Within yourself, A presence you can lean on. You will then be able to welcome a relationship. With more space. I recommend that you return to this session for at least 30 consecutive nights. At your own pace. By listening to it again. You may recognize more quickly the sensations and images that speak to you. And if sleep comes before the end. You can allow yourself to drift off peacefully. There is no exercise you have to succeed at. And now. The meditation will begin soon. Let your eyelids close. Your breathing is already following its own path. The air enters. Lifts your chest slightly. Then flows out. Take a moment to feel this movement a second time. As you exhale. Your back can spread out a little more against the mattress. A third breath comes in turn. At its own rhythm. And your shoulders begin to drop. Bring your attention to your face. Your forehead becomes smoother. The area around your eyes relaxes. Your cheeks rest. And your jaw can loosen just enough for your tongue. To find a comfortable place in your mouth. Then feel your neck. It no longer has to hold up your head alone. The pillow receives it. This sense of support can spread into your shoulders. Than your arms. Your elbows grow heavier. Your forearms release. And your hands remain there. Resting. In their natural shape. Your breath reaches your belly. It makes a small space for itself there. Then moves on. Your pelvis can give its weight to the bed. Your thighs relax from the hips. Down to the knees. Your calves follow. And your ankles relax and turn. Feel your heels. Than your feet. All the way to the tips of your toes. You can allow a few breaths to travel through your whole body. Some areas release immediately. Others take a little more time. All of them are welcomed here. As your body rests. Your attention can widen. It still hears my voice. While another part of you becomes available for the images that arise. Allow your unconscious to open like a water surface. Gently receiving the evening light. You can keep in touch with your bed throughout this experience. And now. Imagine on your inner screen. You are in a quiet street. At the hour when windows begin to light up. The ground still holds a little of the day's warmth. You walk under a long-covered gallery. Open to the street through wide arches. Your steps echo softly under the ceiling. At the end of the gallery. You see a person you know. Their silhouette moves forward. Then turns at the corner of a house. You do not know what they are thinking. You only know that they are walking away. You can let this image take the shape of a situation in your life. A silence. A distance. A moment when you were afraid the connection would break. Choose a scene you can look at tonight. With enough calm. The gallery remains around you. Its arches let the air in. The street is there. And you can come back to these details whenever you wish. Take a moment to recognize what this scene stirs up. In your body. Where does the alert begin? Perhaps in your chest. Your belly. Your throat. Only you can feel it. Notice what is happening inside you when the silhouette disappears. One thought may be trying to fill the silence. Another wants to run after the person. Get an immediate answer. Proof. A sign. You can notice this impulse gently. It has tried to spare you from suffering. And sometimes it has worked very hard to do so. You can offer it this recognition. While remaining there. Your feet resting on the floor of the gallery. Near one of the arches. A small stone bench invites you to sit down. The stone is smooth under your hand. You sit and watch the street for a few moments. The world continues around you. A window opens farther away. Two people exchange a few words and go on their way. The person who disappeared around the corner has not yet returned. Yet you are still here. Your breathing is still here. You are discovering the difference between what you fear and what is present now. I suggest you silently ask a single question to the part of you that was worried. What do you need? Right here. Right now. Give it time. Maybe it needs to be reassured. To be heard. Or simply to feel that it still has its place. Your own answer may be different. It may appear as a sentence. A sensation. A gesture you already know. When something becomes clearer. Look at the arches around you. One of them leads to a small inner courtyard. You can enter it. In the center. A very simple fountain. Lets a thin stream of water. Flow into a low basin. The regular sound of the water accompanies your steps. On the stone edge you find an empty seat. Facing the courtyard. Perhaps it has been waiting for you since the beginning of this walk. You sit down. And you let your gaze follow the movement of the water. It arrives. It crosses the basin. It continues on its way. Its passage takes nothing away from the stone that welcomes it. Gear. You can respond to the need you have just recognized. If you are missing words, Let them take shape in your own language. If you need a sign of safety. You can feel the seat beneath you. And the ground under your feet. If what you miss is a presence. Move closer inwardly to that part of you that was waiting at the end of the gallery. You do not have to play someone else's role. You are simply there. Close enough to hear what it is going through. The fountain continues. Its rhythm gives your body the time to understand. What your mind has just discovered. Perhaps your breath becomes deeper. Perhaps your belly loosens all at once. Or almost imperceptibly. Let the answer reach the place where the alert had settled. Stay with this sensation for a few breaths. I suggest that you silently repeat after me. When fear awakens, I can come back to myself. You can now return to the entrance of the courtyard and see the gallery again. The silhouette is still out of sight. Nothing has been decided on their behalf. What is changing is your way of inhabiting this moment. You know your need. You know the path to the courtyard. You can feel your own support before seeking an answer outside yourself. Walk a few steps along the gallery. Very slowly. Hear the sound of your footsteps. In front of each arch. Part of the street appears. Then the next. This passage allows you to look at the scene from the right distance. You can wait. Ask a question later. And tell the person concerned what you feel when it becomes possible. And in the meantime. You continue to exist fully. Your place does not depend on how quickly someone comes back. Farther on. A shop window gives you a reflection of yourself. Stop for a moment in front of this image. Look at your face. Position of your shoulders. The way you stand upright. A version of you. A little further along in this path of healing. Might appear in the reflection beside you. He still knows attachment. The desire for closeness. And the joy of an exchange. When a distance appears. He can move through it while staying in contact with himself. See how he stands. How does he breathe? What does he say in simple words? To the part of you that is afraid. Let the scene answer you in its own way. You do not have to become this person all at once. It is enough to recognize something possible in his attitude. Then let it return to your body. Perhaps a way of placing your feet. Perhaps your chest breathing more freely. Perhaps a sentence you would like to remember. You are still in the gallery. With the courtyard only a few steps away. And this resource can accompany you. Look one last time at the corner of the street. It keeps its mystery. The life of the other person belongs to them. Yours remains in your hands. As you turn back toward the courtyard. You understand that an outer silence can awaken an old fear. And that you can now care for this fear before it tells the whole story for you. Take a moment to feel this shift. It may be small. It is real in the experience you are having here. I suggest that you silently repeat after me. I can love and still keep my place. Evening continues to fall over the gallery. The voices from the street grow more distant. And the water in the fountain keeps its gentle rhythm. You can thank this part of you that was trying to protect you. It can rest beside you. While you let this image go. Let the visualization fade. The courtyard. The gallery. And the lit windows. Tonight. You keep only the memory of a support that exists within you. Now. Falling asleep can happen step by step. Your body returns to the contact of the bed. Your head rests. Your back settles more deeply. Your breath is waiting for no signal to continue. It moves forward. Then returns. Around this movement, The night can gently spread out. Briefly imagine a lamp lit in the courtyard you're leaving. Its light does not need to keep you awake. It keeps watch in its place while you continue your journey into sleep. You can let your thoughts fall silent one by one. Like conversations that naturally come to an end in the distance. One last word drifts away. Body remains here. Peaceful. Support it. The gallery grows quieter. And so does your breath. You feel the air enter. Then leave. There is nothing to monitor here. You have met your fear. You have found a place to lay it down for this night. Your attention can stop following someone else's footsteps. It returns to your own rhythm. To the pleasant weight of your legs. The rest of your arms. The softness of your face. The images from this evening grow faint. They give way to a simple sensation. Rest. Can come while life continues to unfold. With each exhale. The bed can receive you a little more fully. Your belly keeps its freedom. Your chest rises and falls. Your neck releases. Your eyelids stay closed. And sleep gradually finds its way. You can listen to my voice a while longer. Or let it grow more distant. Your mind does not have to finish this story tonight. What needed to be heard has been heard. The other answers will have their time. Now. The body can sleep. The last details of the gallery fade away. And a quiet darkness fills all the space around you. In this darkness. Your breathing continues. Steady and faithful. And if you are not asleep yet. Repeat the following positive affirmations. Until you fall asleep. Your unconscious will then take over. I recognize my needs gently. My place remains whole. I find my breath again when waiting unsettles me. I can speak to myself with kindness. My connections are allowed to breathe. I feel the support of my body. An answer can come in its own time. I remain in contact with myself. My need deserves to be heard. I can ask for clarity with simplicity. I know a path to calm. My presence is with me. I welcome affection when it appears. I give everyone their own rhythm. I know how to return to what is present. My breath helps me through the waiting. I can love freely. I care for the part of me that worries. My voice has its place in a relationship. Tonight I receive the gentleness I need. My life continues to open. I let my shoulders rest. I feel more at home in myself. A distance can remain a distance. I can choose my words calmly. My heart finds its rhythm again. I entrust this night to my rest. I fall asleep while keeping my place. My body drifts peacefully into sleep. I recognize my needs gently. My place remains whole. I find my breath again when waiting unsettles me. I can speak to myself with kindness. You My connections are allowed to breathe. I feel the support of my body. An answer can come in its own time. I remain in contact with myself. My need deserves to be heard. I can ask for clarity with simplicity. I know a path to calm. My presence is with me. I welcome affection when it appears. I give everyone their own rhythm. I know how to return to what is present. My breath helps me through the waiting. I can love freely. I care for the part of me that worries. My voice has its place in a relationship. Tonight I receive the gentleness I need. My life continues to open. I let my shoulders rest. I feel more at home in myself. A distance can remain a distance. I can choose my words calmly. My heart finds its rhythm again. I entrust this night to my rest. I fall asleep while keeping my place. My body drifts peacefully into sleep. I recognize my needs gently. My place remains whole. I find my breath again when waiting unsettles me. I can speak to myself with kindness. My connections are allowed to breathe. I feel the support of my body. An answer can come in its own time. I remain in contact with myself. My need deserves to be heard. I can ask for clarity with simplicity. I know a path to calm. My presence is with me. I welcome affection when it appears. I give everyone their own rhythm. I know how to return to what is present. My breath helps me through the waiting. I can love freely. I care for the part of me that worries. My voice has its place in a relationship. Tonight I receive the gentleness I need. My life continues to open. I let my shoulders rest. I feel more at home in myself. A distance can remain a distance. I can choose my words calmly. My heart finds its rhythm again. I entrust this night to my rest. I fall asleep while keeping my place. My body drifts peacefully into sleep. I recognize my needs gently. My place remains whole. I find my breath again when waiting unsettles me. I can speak to myself with kindness. My connections are allowed to breathe. I feel the support of my body. An answer can come in its own time. I remain in contact with myself. My need deserves to be heard. I can ask for clarity with simplicity. I know a path to calm. My presence is with me. I welcome affection when it appears. I give everyone their own rhythm. I know how to return to what is present. My breath helps me through the waiting. I can love freely. I care for the part of me that worries. My voice has its place in a relationship. Tonight I receive the gentleness I need. My life continues to open. I let my shoulders rest. I feel more at home in myself. A distance can remain a distance. I can choose my words calmly. My heart finds its rhythm again. I entrust this night to my rest. I fall asleep while keeping my place. My body drifts peacefully into sleep. I recognize my needs gently. My place remains whole. I find my breath again when waiting unsettles me. I can speak to myself with kindness. My connections are allowed to breathe. I feel the support of my body. An answer can come in its own time. I remain in contact with myself. My need deserves to be heard. I can ask for clarity with simplicity. I know a path to calm. My presence is with me. I welcome affection when it appears. I give everyone their own rhythm. I know how to return to what is present. My breath helps me through the waiting. I can love freely. I care for the part of me that worries. My voice has its place in a relationship. Tonight I receive the gentleness I need. My life continues to open. I let my shoulders rest. I feel more at home in myself. A distance can remain a distance. I can choose my words calmly. My heart finds its rhythm again. I entrust this night to my rest. I fall asleep while keeping my place. My body drifts peacefully into sleep.