Welcome.
Take a moment to find a comfortable position,
Seated or laying down,
Supported in a way that feels kind to your body.
Feel the surface beneath you holding your weight,
The chair,
The bed,
The mat,
The floor,
Quietly cradling you without asking anything in return.
Let your hands rest wherever they naturally fall,
On your thighs,
Your belly,
Or by your sides.
Soften your eyes or close them completely.
Slowly give yourself permission to pause,
To slow down,
To be here.
Notice your breath.
Inhale slowly through your nose and exhale gently through your mouth,
As if releasing a long day from your body.
Feel the rise and the fall of your chest and belly,
Cool air coming in,
Warm air leaving.
Let your breathing settle like a dimmer switch turning down the intensity of the world.
Bring awareness to the surface beneath you.
Sense the points of contact,
Your back,
Your legs,
Your feet.
Imagine the support beneath you becoming like a warm weighted blanket,
Steady,
Grounding,
Quietly strong.
With each exhale,
Allow yourself to sink deeper into that support.
Let your awareness drift to the top of your head.
Notice your forehead,
The space between your eyebrows,
The muscles around your eyes.
Invite all of it to soften.
Feel your jaw,
Perhaps it's been clenched or tight,
And give it permission to release.
Move your awareness to your shoulders.
If they've been creeping upward,
Let them fall and rest.
Travel through your chest and upper back.
Sense your heartbeat,
Your lungs expanding and contracting.
Notice any tightness in your chest or knots in your stomach.
Acknowledge them without trying to fix them.
Your body is simply communicating.
Bring awareness to your arms,
Elbows,
Wrists,
And hands.
Notice tingling,
Warmth,
Coolness.
Let your fingers uncurl and rest.
Sense your ribcage,
Your lower back,
Your hips.
Let them grow heavier as they're settling at the bottom of a peaceful pond.
Now,
Down through your legs,
Knees,
Calves,
Ankles,
Feet.
If they feel restless or drain,
Simply notice.
Imagine your feet connecting to the ground like roots,
Drawing stability up into your system.
With each breath,
Let tension flow down and out,
Offering it to the earth beneath you.
It's common during the holidays to feel stretched thin,
Pulled by expectations,
Social demands,
Travel,
And family dynamics.
You might notice part of you that wants to make everyone happy,
Another part that feels irritated,
Another that just wants quiet.
Instead of judging these parts,
Greet them gently.
Whisper,
I see you.
Thank you for trying to help.
As you tune into these parts,
Notice where they live in your body.
Maybe the pleaser sits in your chest,
The irritated one in your throat,
The exhausted one behind your eyes.
Allow your breath to move into these places,
Offering space,
Not solutions.
These responses are normal,
Human,
Understandable,
Especially right now.
Imagine now that you're standing before a doorway.
Behind you is the noise,
The gatherings,
Obligations,
Expectations.
You gently close the door,
Not to shut others out,
But to give yourself a moment.
As the door clicks shut,
Feel an immediate sense of relief,
External demands softening at the edges.
You step into a quieter room.
There's a comfortable chair by a window overlooking a forest clearing.
The light filtering through,
Perhaps winter sunlight,
Perhaps dusk,
Is soft and calming.
You might hear the faint rustle of leaves or a distant bird call.
This is your sanctuary,
A place where nothing is required of you.
In the corner is a warm weighted blanket.
You drape it around your shoulders.
Feel its reassuring pressure settle your nervous system,
Anchoring you in safely.
You sit in the chair,
Letting the blanket wrap around you,
Like the hug you've needed for a long time.
From this place,
Practice a simple boundary phrase,
It's okay for me to have needs.
Notice how your body responds,
Chest loosening,
Breath deepening,
Space opening.
Repeat softly,
I am allowed to rest.
Let these words sink in,
As if warming themselves by the fire of your breath.
Allow the forest clearing outside to expand in your imagination.
Trees standing like guardians,
Branches swaying gently.
This clearing represents space inside you,
The room you need to breathe,
To feel,
To just be.
Even in the busiest seasons,
This clearing exists,
You can return anytime.
See the noise of the holiday season now,
As a cloud outside your sanctuary.
It may hover,
But it does not enter.
Let the cloud drift,
You don't need to chase it,
Or clear it,
Or manage it.
Bring your attention back to your breath,
Notice how it's changed.
Maybe it's slower,
Deeper,
More nourishing.
Feel your heart rate steadying,
Your system shifting from alert,
Into calm.
If it helps,
Place one hand on your belly,
And the other on your chest.
Inhale to a count of 4,
2,
3,
4,
Hold for 2,
Exhale for 6,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6.
Each exhale releases pressure,
Like opening a valve that lets steam escape.
When you're ready,
Stand up from the chair in the inner room.
Fold the weighted blanket,
And place it gently where you found it,
Knowing it will be here whenever you return.
Walk toward the door,
And repeat your boundary phrase once more,
It's okay for me to have needs.
Feel that truth anchoring your body.
Open the door,
And step back into your current environment.
The world may still be busy,
Voices,
Tasks,
Responsibilities,
But something inside you has shifted.
You feel more spacious,
More resourced,
More steady.
Take a deeper breath in,
And exhale fully.
Wiggle your fingers and toes,
Roll your shoulders,
Let your eyes open slowly when you are ready.
You can return to others with a softened nervous system,
And an inner sanctuary that remains yours.
Holiday stress is common,
Your reactions are valid,
Your needs matter.
You carry a weighted blanket of calm with you now,
Available anytime you choose to pause and return to yourself.
Step back into your day gently,
With more ease and more space.
