Welcome to your yoga nidra practice.
Allow yourself to settle into stillness.
Make sure you're comfortably supported.
And let your legs rest comfortably.
Allow your arms to fall away from your sides.
Palms can turn upward if that feels okay.
Make any final adjustments,
Maybe a cushion under here.
Head or bolster under your knees.
Maybe a warm blanket,
Maybe you need a sip of water.
Give yourself.
Permission to become very comfortable.
There is nowhere else you need to be.
Nothing you need to accomplish.
Nothing you need to perfect.
Just begin to notice.
The weight of your body against the earth.
Back of your head.
Your shoulders.
Your arms.
Your pelvis.
Your legs.
Even your heels.
Feel how gravity is gently drawing you downward.
You do not need to hold yourself up anymore.
The Earth is holding you.
Take a slow breath through your nose.
And release it gently.
Again.
Breathing in.
And breathing out.
One more time.
Take a full,
Easy breath in.
Long unhurried breath out.
Now allow your breath to return to its own natural rhythm.
No controlling.
Now I'm probing.
Just noticing.
Imagine that somewhere nearby you can hear water.
Perhaps a quiet stream.
A river moving over smooth stones.
Water arriving.
And water leaving.
Never exactly the same from one moment to the next.
Your breath is like this.
Arriving.
And leaving.
Arriving.
And leaving.
You do not have to make the river flow.
And you do not have to make yourself breathe.
Something deeper.
Already knows how.
For this practice,
Allow yourself to practice the art of not foreseeing.
Yoga Nidra is not something you need to be good at.
You may hear every word.
You may drift in and out,
You may fall asleep.
You may remain completely aware.
Whatever happens is part of your practice.
Let yourself rest like a leaf resting on the surface of a quiet river.
Supported,
Carried,
And safe to soften.
Now bring your awareness gently towards your heart.
Imagine a small pool of perfectly still water there.
It's clear.
Quiet.
It's undisturbed.
And from this place invite a simple intention to arise.
A Sankalpa.
This is a short statement of something.
You would like to nurture within yourself an intention.
Perhaps I trust the flow of my life.
Or I meet change with softness and strength.
Or simply,
I am willing to flow.
Choose words that feel true for you.
Not something you have to force yourself to believe.
Something that you are willing to grow toward.
And repeat whatever your intention is slowly three times.
Slowly with feeling.
And now,
Release the words.
Just like if you were placing a small leaf on the moving water.
You do not need to chase it.
You have planted the intention.
Now allow the practice to carry you.
We will begin to move awareness through the body.
There is no need to physically move.
Simply hear each part of the body and just feel it.
And allow your awareness to flow onward.
Like water traveling through the landscape.
Now bring awareness to your right hand.
Your right thumb.
Your second finger.
Your third finger.
Your fourth finger.
Your little finger.
The palm of the hand.
The back of the hand.
The wrist.
Lower arm.
Elbow.
Upper arm.
Shoulder.
Right armpit.
Right side of the waist.
Right hip.
Right by.
Knee.
Shen.
Have.
Ankle.
Healed.
Sole of the right foot.
Top of the foot.
Right big toe.
Second toe.
Third toe.
Fourth toe.
Little toe.
Feel the whole right side of the body.
Now the left hand.
Left thumb.
Second finger.
Third finger.
Fourth finger.
Little finger.
Calm.
Back of the hand.
Rest.
Lower arm.
Elbow.
Upper arm.
Shoulder.
Left armpit.
Left side of the waist.
Left hip.
Left thigh.
Knee.
Shen.
Care.
Ankle.
Heal.
Sole of the left foot.
Top of the foot.
Left big toe.
Second toe.
Third toe.
Fourth toe.
Little toe.
Feel the whole left side of the body.
Feel the whole left and right side of the body.
Bring awareness to both feet together.
Both ankles.
Both lower legs.
Both knees.
Both thighs.
Of hips.
Both feet together,
Heavy.
Supported.
Completely at rest.
Awareness moves to the back of the body,
Back of the head.
Right shoulder blade.
Left shoulder blade.
The space between the shoulder blades.
Middle back.
Lower back.
Right side of the pelvis,
Left side of the pelvis.
The entire back body resting against the earth.
And imagine the ground beneath you.
Becoming warm and soft.
Like warm sand.
And your body is leaving an impression.
Without effort.
Nothing to hold,
Nothing to lift.
Nothing to support.
Now move awareness to the top of the head.
Forehead.
Right temple.
Love temple.
Right eyebrow.
Left eyebrow.
Between the eyebrows.
Right eyelid.
Left eyelid.
Right eye.
Left eye.
Right cheek,
Left cheek.
Nose.
Tip of the nose.
Upper lip.
Lower lip.
Both lives together.
Ciao.
Chen.
Right collarbone,
Left collarbone.
Center of the chest.
Right side of the chest.
Left side of the chest.
Upper abdomen.
Navel.
Lower abdomen.
Pelvis.
Now feel the entire front of the body.
The entire back of the body.
The right side.
The left side.
The whole body together.
One field of sensation.
One landscape.
Perhaps imagine a gentle current of water moving through the body.
From the crown of your head.
Through your throat,
Your heart.
Your belly.
Your pelvis,
Your legs.
All the way to your toes.
And then flowing back up again.
Nothing blocked.
Nothing hurried.
Simply moving.
Deepening your attention.
Now to your natural breath.
Notice where you feel it most clearly.
Perhaps the nostrils.
Maybe the chest.
Maybe it's in the belly.
Do not change anything.
Simply witness the movement.
Imagine the breath as a tide.
The inhale comes toward the shore.
The exhale moves away.
And how.
The tide rises.
Exhale,
The tide recedes.
There is no moment when the ocean wonders whether another wave will come.
It simply moves according to its nature.
Allow yourself to trust your breath in the same way.
Begin silently counting backward with each exhalation,
Starting at 27.
Breathe in naturally,
Breathe out 27.
Breathe in.
Breathe out,
26.
Continue counting backward.
If you lose your place,
Simply begin again at 27.
There is no frustration.
No judgment.
The point is not reaching zero.
The practice is returning.
Now let go of the counting.
Return to the sensation of breathing.
Feel the whole body breathing.
As though the boundaries of your body have become softer.
As though breath could move through every pore of your skin.
The whole body receiving.
The whole body releasing.
Now we will explore opposite sensations.
There's nothing you need to physically change.
Simply awaken the memory of each feeling.
First we start with heaviness.
Feel the body become very heavy.
Heavy legs.
Heavy arms,
Heavy head.
As though your body were sinking gently into warm sand,
Completely supported.
And completely surrendered.
Happy.
Now invite the opposite light.
Imagine your body becoming incredibly light.
Almost weightless.
As though you were floating on perfectly calm water.
The water carries your entire weight and nothing presses downward.
Nothing needs to work.
Light,
Floating,
Effortless.
Now experience stillness.
A mountain lake before sunrise.
No wind.
No ripples.
Perfectly still.
Let that stillness enter the body.
And now movement,
A river.
A wave.
Rain sliding down a window.
The subtle dance of water constantly changing shape.
Feel movement even within stillness,
Your heartbeat.
Your breath.
The quiet currents inside of you.
Stillness and movement,
Rest and flow.
Neither one opposing the other,
Both belonging.
Feel strength.
Study.
Grounded.
Resilient.
And softness.
Yielding,
Open.
Receptive.
Strength and softness together like water.
Soft enough to pour through your hands.
Yet powerful enough to shape stone.
Imagine now that you are standing beside a river.
It may be a river you know,
Or one you created entirely by your imagination.
There's nothing you need to see perfectly.
Simply sense yourself there.
Notice the air against your skin.
The earth beneath your feet.
Maybe sunlight filters through trees overhead.
And beside you,
The river moves.
Clear water traveling over smooth stones.
Listen.
Notice that the river never moves in a perfectly straight line.
It curves.
It circles.
It slows.
It gathers speed.
And sometimes it becomes completely still.
Sometimes it tumbles over rocks,
And yet.
.
.
It continues.
Begin walking beside the river slowly.
There is no destination.
You are simply following the water.
Perhaps you notice the fallen branch in the water.
The water does not fight it.
And moves around it.
Maybe a large stone divides the current.
The river simply finds another way.
No anger.
No judgment.
No belief that the obstacle should not be there.
Only response,
Only movement,
Only flow.
Consider for a moment something in your own life.
You've been pushing against.
You do not need to solve it.
You do not even need to name it clearly.
Simply sense the feeling of resistance.
And imagine placing that resistance into the river.
Watch what the water does.
It doesn't demand that you let go.
Doesn't pull anything from your hands.
As simply offers movement.
Maybe you can loosen your grip just a little.
And continue walking.
Ahead the river widens.
Current becomes slower.
The surface smooths.
And you find a place where the water is calm and clear.
You sit beside it.
Look into the surface.
At first you may see reflections.
Sky.
Clouds.
Truth,
Light.
And then imagine seeing your own reflection,
Not the face you present to the world.
Something quieter.
Something underneath all the roles you play.
All the ways you try to get things right.
Does to you.
Water never asks itself whether it's flowing correctly.
The wave does not compare itself to another wave.
A river does not apologize for changing direction.
The ocean does not become less itself.
When it becomes rain.
And rain does not lose itself when it becomes a river.
Form changes.
Essence remains.
Perhaps you can allow yourself the same freedom.
You're allowed to change.
You are allowed to move differently.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to begin again.
Changing direction does not mean you are lost.
Resting does not mean you have stopped.
Softness does not mean weakness.
Perhaps this is the deeper dance.
Not memorizing every step,
Not knowing exactly what happens next,
But listening closely enough to respond.
Life moves,
You move with it,
Sometimes leading.
Sometimes following.
Sometimes completely still.
But always part of the dance.
Begin to rest here.
Nothing to become.
Nothing to prove.
Nothing to chase for this moment.
Just simply be.
Now allow all the imagery to dissolve.
There's no river,
No ocean.
No place you need to imagine,
Only awareness,
Only breath,
And only rest.
And notice that even when the body is completely still,
Life continues moving within you.
Breath rises and falls.
Heartbeat.
Blood flows.
Cells change.
Life dances quietly beneath the surface.
And you don't have to orchestrate any of it.
Rest in that knowing.
That there are things within you.
That already know how to flow.
Bring your awareness once again toward your heart.
Return to the intention you chose earlier.
Maybe it was,
I trust the flow of my life.
It may change with softness and strength.
I am willing to flow.
Or your own words.
And repeat your intention or your sankalpa silently three times.
Plan it gently.
No forcing.
Like rain entering the earth.
We'll start to begin to notice your physical body.
Feel the surface beneath you.
Notice the temperature of the air.
Listen to the sounds around you.
Sounds nearby,
Sounds far away.
And notice the natural rhythm of your breath.
Begin to deepen your breath.
Further inhale.
A longer exhale.
Maybe bring some gentle movement to your fingers and your toes.
Slowly circle your wrists or your ankles.
Maybe stretch your arms overhead.
Move in whatever way your body asks you to move.
There's no choreography.
Listen,
Respond.
Let the first movements after stillness become their own quiet dance.
When you're ready.
Tapping your knees into your chest and maybe roll to your favorite side.
And just rest there.
Notice how it feels to be between stillness and movement.
Between resting and doing.
And remember,
You do not need to know every turn of the river before you begin.
You do not need to force open what is not ready.
You do not need to move through life in a straight line.
Water teaches another way.
To soften without disappearing.
To move without rushing.
To meet what is there.
And find the opening.
And to rest when it's needed.
And begin moving again when the current returns.
When you're ready.
Slowly return.
Carry this river with you,
The lessons of the river.
Carry the softness,
Carry this quiet strength.
May you meet what comes with less resistance.
May you trust the wisdom of your own rhythm.
And may you remember that even in stillness.
You are part of something moving.
Something changing.
Something alive.
The river continues.
And so do you.
Namaste.
