Welcome here.
This is Kali and I've curated this practice from lived experience that isn't designed to fix you or take anything away from your loss or your sorrow.
Instead,
I hope it offers a pause and a moment to apply a soothing balm to the innermost tender parts of your aching heart.
A chance for your body to experience a little reprieve from the natural responses of trauma and sudden loss.
A moment of rest for your mind amidst the invasive thoughts.
The unanswered questions.
The regrets.
The plane.
Like confusion.
And the well-meaning platitudes that can sometimes feel so difficult to hear.
I'm not here to take anything away from you.
There is nothing here that you need to let go of.
This is simply an invitation into deep and loving rest offered from my heart to yours.
To gently soothe the innermost parts of you during this time of grief and crisis.
Whatever form your loss has taken.
And whoever.
Or whatever it is that you carry in your heart.
You are welcome here.
Exactly as you are.
For these next few moments,
You do not need to be strong.
You do not need to hold yourself up.
You do not need to have all of the answers or know what comes next.
Please feel free to lay however you like during this practice.
Either in a shavasana position with your arms laid out so that your hands can rest palm upwards or curled up in a ball on your side in a soothing fetal position.
Whatever helps you.
Helps comfort you during this time we share together.
And once you're settled in.
I will guide you through a round of breathing exercises which will allow you to soften around your heart space.
Release tension from your belly and give space for the exhale.
That exhale you're holding on to.
That exhale you may not have been able to release since this event happened.
So take a moment to make any adjustments that you need so that you may become even 100% more comfortable Unclenching the knot in your belly.
Loosening the jaw.
Dropping the shoulders,
If only by a fraction.
And begin to rest with awareness of your breath now.
Your breath touching the skin at the tip of your nose.
Gently breathing it in slowly,
Expanding into your chest.
Easing any tightness there,
Letting the root of your tongue slacken,
Holding for a pause at the top of your breath.
And releasing and letting it go through your nose or sighing it away through an open mouth.
And this time,
Breathing in through your nose,
Allowing the breath to fill your chest,
Your solar plexus,
And move into your belly.
Allowing it to fill all those tight spaces within.
Holding for a moment at the top of your breath.
And releasing and letting it go through your nose in a long discharging exhale.
One more time.
And returning now to the natural rhythm of your breath.
The body breathing itself.
Slow and rhythmic like waves drawing in and out from the shore.
In and out.
Your natural breath.
And if it feels comfortable for you.
Allowing the eyes to gently shut down,
Granting yourself permission to stop doing for a little while.
To stop holding yourself up.
To simply be.
And before we continue,
I would like to offer you a gentle sankalpa.
In Yogananda,
A sankalpa is a heartfelt intention.
A quiet seed of wisdom planted within.
Not something that comes from outside of you,
But something that speaks from the deepest and most compassionate part of yourself.
And during times of grief when life can feel uncertain and so much feels beyond our control.
This intention can become a gentle reminder of what remains true within us.
If these words feel supportive for you today.
Silently repeating to yourself.
I honor the love and the time we shared.
Repeating these words quietly within yourself three times.
Allowing them to settle gently into the heart.
And now allowing your awareness to follow my voice as I guide your attention to settle and soften into each body part.
Perhaps imagining when each one lands,
It is as though a soothing balm is being massaged into each area.
With love and tenderness and care.
Resting gently now at the space between your eyebrows.
Smooth out the skin there.
Onto your forehead.
Across to each temple.
As though a gentle massage is melting away a little tension there.
To the crown of your head.
To the back of your head.
To the back of your neck.
Palm rubbed into the tops of both shoulders.
Between your shoulder blades.
Mid spine.
Lower spine.
Tailbone.
The back of the hips.
For the quarter.
The back of both thighs.
The back of the knees.
Both calves.
Heels.
The soles of both feet.
All of your toes.
Resting.
The tops of the feet.
The ankles.
The lower legs.
The knees.
The tops of both thighs.
The points of both hip bones.
Both right leg and left leg,
Resting.
Awareness moving to your sacrum.
The whole pelvic bone.
The belly.
Awareness of the natural breath at the belly.
The ribs expanding and releasing the weight carried here.
The heart space.
The collarbone.
The right shoulder.
The right upper arm.
Elbow.
Love.
Om.
Mess.
Thumb.
Fingertips.
The whole hand,
Resting.
Palm of the right hand.
Empire.
Underarm.
Arm pain.
The center of your face.
Left shoulder.
Upper arm.
Alvin.
Dawaam.
This.
Thumb.
Fingertip.
The whole hand.
Resting.
Palm of the left hand.
I'm fine.
And the arm.
Armpit.
The center of the throat.
Neck,
Head,
Shoulders resting.
Belly and abdomen softening.
Solar plexus beneath the ribs.
The space of your heart.
All cultivating calm.
The whole body.
Resting.
Breathing naturally now,
Dear one.
Awareness drifting to the rise and the fall at the belly.
Like the drag of the sea on a foreshore.
And the returning of the wave.
Allowing the natural rhythm of your breath to breathe itself.
Imagining the breath as your greed.
Waves rising and falling.
The ebb and the flow.
The despair,
The anguish,
The emptiness.
Waves dragging out.
The breath discharging.
Followed by inhalation.
The warm memory.
The tenderness.
The love.
The next wave flowing in.
A little nourishment to hold on to.
In and out.
The pain and the sorrow.
Followed by a memory and the love.
In this space,
We may want to introduce a sankalpa.
Bringing back that same gentle intention.
Once more,
Silently repeating,
I honor the love and the time we share.
Three times,
Allowing these words to settle within you.
This pain you feel now may not always feel exactly as it does at this moment.
These brooms are part of your story now.
Not something to be erased.
Not something to be forgotten.
And yet,
Over time,
Many people find that grief begins to change its shape.
The sharp edges soften.
The waves become less overwhelming.
And what once felt impossible to carry gradually becomes something carried with tenderness and great protection and loyalty.
A story of love and loss.
A story of connection.
A story of what mattered.
If you need to take more time here for yourself to rest or to cry or to continue to practice breathing,
You may wish to remove your headphones or press pause on the recording.
Otherwise dear one will begin to return back to your new reality.
Deepening the breath exactly as before.
Breathing in slow and long through the nose.
Holding for a gentle pause and exhaling through the nose in a long discharging sigh.
Two more times.
Noticing the air at your nostrils,
Air filling the chest.
And releasing from the throat.
The chest from the belly.
Allowing the throat to remain soft and open.
Noticing the surface beneath you.
The shape of your body.
The air around you and the temperature of the room.
The fabric against your skin.
Any sounds or any smells on the air.
Taking your time now and making small movements gently and mindfully awakening the body.
Acknowledging myself for the courage it took to join me here and to meet yourself in this way.
Each time you return to this practice you are offering your body and your nervous system a place of safety A place of rest.
A place where your grief is allowed to be held for as long as it needs.
There is nothing you need to force,
Nothing you need to rush,
And nothing you need to push away.
And perhaps,
Just for today,
You are able to at least breathe a little easier.
Even if only by a fraction.
With much love to you,
Dear one.
Calling.
