Welcome.
Take a moment to make yourself comfortable,
Lying down or sitting in a position that feels deeply supported.
Notice the surface beneath you holding your weight,
Steady,
Patient and unhurried.
Allow your eyelids to soften.
Feel yourself settling in,
A quietness gathering in the room like the slow dimming of a lantern.
Give yourself permission to pause,
To land,
To arrive.
Bring attention to your breath,
Inhale softly through your nose and exhale through your mouth,
Releasing warm.
Let the breath lengthen on its own,
A slow tide moving in and out.
With each exhale,
Feel tension loosening,
Dissolving,
Drifting away strand by strand.
No rush,
No forcing,
Just softening.
Shift your awareness down to your feet,
Feel fabric,
Air,
Temperature,
Texture.
Invite your toes to unclench,
To release any holding.
Let that softening travel through your ankles,
Your calves,
The weight they've carried today.
Let them settle,
Let them rest.
Move into your knees and thighs,
Notice the heaviness or warmth there.
With your next exhale,
Let your hips sink deeper into support,
Like settling into soft sand.
Imagine the muscles melting slightly,
Like wax near a warm flame.
Bring awareness to your lower back and abdomen.
Feel your belly rise with your inhale and fall with your exhale,
A rhythm older than memory.
If it feels grounding,
Place a hand on your belly,
Feel its warmth,
Its reassurance.
Let your breath become a gentle tide,
Arriving,
Receding.
Now,
Move into your chest and shoulders,
Notice if you've been holding anything there,
Literally or emotionally.
Let your inhale open space in your chest,
Let your exhale soften the weight in your shoulders.
Let your arms rest heavy,
Palm open if that feels nourishing.
Sense the back of your neck,
The base of your skull,
Invite release.
Let your jaw unclench,
Let your tongue fall from the roof of your mouth.
Smooth the muscles around your eyes,
Let your forehead soften,
Feel your head supported,
Heavy,
Safe,
As if life itself was holding you.
Your whole being is descending into stillness,
A deep,
Quiet stillness.
Begin to imagine yourself at the edge of a quiet shoreline.
It is night,
A vast sky opens above you.
Moonlight coats the sand,
Stone,
The water,
Turning everything silver and calm.
Feel cool sand beneath your feet,
Hear waves washing in and out.
Sense the faint scent of salt and renewal.
This place holds you gently,
The way the night holds tides.
Look towards the horizon,
The moon's reflection stretches across the dark water like a shimmering path.
As you inhale,
Imagine moonlight entering you,
Filling your chest with a soft glow.
As you exhale,
Feel yourself releasing into the tides,
Letting it carry away tightness,
Residue,
Emotional weight.
The boundary between breath and the waves begin to dissolve.
Inhale,
Tide rising.
Exhale,
Tide returning.
Watch the tide watch over footprints in the sand,
Gently erasing them like a smooth,
Untouched canvas.
This is not through force or through tenderness.
Your body feels heavier,
Yet more at ease,
As if the earth itself is holding you.
Imagine now that you're holding the experience of this year in your hands,
Moments of joy,
Moments of difficulty,
Moments of growth,
Moments of loss.
All of it sitting in your palm like a collection of stone,
Smooth and rough.
Look at them without judgment,
Neither right nor wrong,
Just part of your story.
Feel any emotional weight you may still be carrying,
Expectations unmet,
Conversations unresolved,
Project unfinished.
Recognize them,
Not to dwell,
But to witness.
Above you,
The moon shines with compassion.
At your feet,
Tide whispers,
It's okay.
If it feels right,
Extend your hands toward the moonlit water.
Tilt your palms,
Let the tide receive what you've been carrying.
Watch as the water carries each piece away,
Not vanishing into nothing,
But transforming into ocean wisdom.
Repeat softly,
I release what no longer serves me.
Notice how your body responds,
Relief,
Sadness,
Gratitude,
Openness,
All are welcome.
Look at your hands now,
Perhaps lighter,
Perhaps empty.
Feel the spaciousness inside you like a clear night sky.
Let the quiet invite a gentle review of the year through compassion.
Remember moments where you showed resilience,
Moments of kindness,
Moments where you rested instead of pushing.
These threads that remain,
They shine softly in the moonlight.
Feel gratitude for the people,
Places,
And parts of yourself that supported you.
Whisper their names if you like,
Letting moonlight touch each one.
Warmth may spread through your chest or into your hands,
Let it.
Repeat softly,
I bless what remains,
I thank what has been.
Let these words echo with your breath like waves meeting the shore.
Gratitude arises gently here,
Never forced.
The waves soften,
The moon feels closer,
The night grows quieter.
Feel yourself resting in this tender space,
Held,
Safe,
Supported.
If any emotions surface,
Return to the moon and tide,
They know how to hold and transform.
You are learning release as an act of love.
A new pattern is forming,
One of spaciousness,
Forgiveness,
Completion.
Let the shoreline gently fade,
Let the moon dissolve back into darkness behind your closed eyes.
Feel the bed or chair or mat beneath you again,
The blanket around you,
The air on your skin.
Take a slow inhale and sigh it out through your mouth.
Wiggle your fingers and toes if it feels good.
You can drift into sleep from here,
Or rest,
Or stay suspended and quiet.
If you'd like,
Place both hands over your heart,
Whisper,
My hands are open to receive.
Let the readiness expand without needing answers.
Let the spaciousness linger like moonlight and still water.
When you feel complete,
Let your arms rest,
Let your breath settle,
Let your body melt deeper into rest.
The year behind you is honor,
Release,
Complete.
The space before you is open,
Inviting,
Quietly new.
You are held now and always by the tides that know how to return and the moon that knows how to rise.
