There's a story about a river that ran through a narrow canyon.
For years,
It believed its job was to rush.
To push forward.
To carve.
To keep moving no matter what stood in its way.
In the spring,
It would swell with snowmelt and race so fast it couldn't see its own reflection.
In the summer,
It would run thin and worry it was not enough.
In the winter,
It would stiffen at the edges and brace against the cold.
One year,
After a long season of storms,
Part of the canyon shifted.
Rocks fell.
The river was forced to slow.
At first,
It fought.
But it pressed harder.
It churned against the new shape of things.
But over time,
As it slowed,
It began to notice something it had missed its whole life.
The sky.
The way light touched its surface.
The way fish moved easily in calmer water.
The way slowing did not mean it had stopped being a river.
It was still moving.
Still becoming.
Just differently.
And right now,
You get to rest in that slower current too.
Let your body arrive where you are.
Let gravity hold you.
Let the ground do the work of supporting you.
Breathe in slowly through your nose.
And let it fall out of your mouth.
Again,
Inhale through your nose.
And exhale,
Allow the breath to fall out the mouth gently.
You don't have to breathe perfectly.
Just breathe honestly.
Notice what's here inside you.
Maybe it's calm.
Maybe it's noise.
Maybe tiredness.
Or feelings you haven't quite named yet.
You don't have to organize any of it.
Imagine sitting beside your life.
Not inside the rush of it.
But sitting beside it.
Like watching water move past you.
Thoughts can move.
Feelings can move.
And you can stay.
There is a quiet kind of wisdom in the stopping.
Not quitting.
Not giving up.
Just stopping.
Stopping long enough to feel your own heart beat again.
Sometimes we move so fast trying to outrun discomfort.
That we also outrun our own tenderness.
And that tenderness,
It's not weakness.
It's where connection lives.
It's where truth softens enough to be heard.
Take another slow breath.
And as you exhale,
Your shoulders drop just a little.
Inhale again.
And your face softens on the exhale just a little.
If something inside you feels heavy,
You don't have to carry it.
Imagine setting it down beside you.
Not throwing it away.
Not solving it.
And just setting it down.
In the same way that you would set down a bag you've been carrying for miles.
And feel the difference in your body.
Feel the lightness.
Even if that difference is small.
You are allowed to pause in the middle of your life.
You are allowed to rest in the middle of becoming.
You are allowed to be loved and unfinished at the same time.
Nothing important about you is at risk just because you stopped moving for a few minutes.
In fact,
Sometimes stopping is how we remember who we are underneath everything we've been holding.
So take one more slow,
Steady breath in.
And a long,
Complete breath out.
And when you're ready,
Return to your day.
Not rushed.
Not hardened.
Just a little more here.
Maybe even a little more you.
