Welcome.
You're here.
That's enough.
That's actually everything.
Whatever today held,
However long it was.
However much it asked of you.
You got through it.
And now you've found your way to this moment,
Which means that some quiet,
Sensible part of you is already looking after you.
Let that part take over for a while.
So close your eyes.
Or,
If they're already closed,
Let them stay that way.
Let them rest.
Those tired,
Hard-working eyes have been taking in the world all day.
Every screen.
Every face.
Every task.
Every worry.
They've seen a lot.
They deserve this.
Take one slow breath in.
.
.
And let it all the way out.
You don't have to do anything with this.
You don't even have to listen carefully.
Just let the words wash over you like warm water.
Take what's useful.
And let the rest go.
You are done for today.
Let's start right where the tiredness lives,
In the eyes themselves.
Without moving them,
Just notice your eyes behind your closed lids.
Feel the weight of them.
Perhaps there's a slight ache.
Perhaps a dry,
Gritty feeling that comes from too many hours of looking.
Just acknowledge it.
You don't have to fix it.
Just let the lids be heavy.
Never imagine very gently that warmth is gathering just behind your eyes.
Not heat.
Warmth.
The kind that comes from a warm cloth on a cold day.
Soft.
Soothing.
Seeping slowly into the muscles around the eyes.
Above and below.
And round into the temples.
Let the muscles at the bridge of your nose soften.
Let the small muscles around your eye sockets release.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
If there's been a furrowed brow today.
And there probably has.
Let it go now.
There's nothing left to work out tonight.
Nothing left to figure out.
Your eyes are closed.
They are resting.
They are off duty.
And slowly,
Gently,
The world behind them is going quiet.
There's a particular kind of tiredness that goes beyond the body when you've reached the end of what you can give.
Not just physically.
But mentally,
Emotionally.
When the small decisions feel like too much.
When you're running on the last of something.
And if that's where you are tonight.
I want you to know that that's a real thing.
It's not weakness.
It's what happens when you've been present,
When you've tried,
When you've cared.
And the most generous thing you can do for yourself and for everyone who needs you tomorrow.
Is to stop.
Completely.
Not to push through.
Not to squeeze just one more thing in.
Just stop.
You're stopping now.
Right here.
And that is exactly the right thing to do.
Let's travel down through your body,
Very slowly.
With no agenda other than to let each part rest.
Your scalp.
The skin across the top of your head.
Let it be still.
Your forehead.
Already softened,
Already quieter.
Your eyes.
Bringing the awareness back to the eyes.
And allowing yourself to feel that warmth once again.
All the muscles around and behind the eyes.
Warming.
Softening.
Loosening.
Your cheeks.
Your jaw.
Let your mouth rest slightly open.
That may feel easier.
There's no expression needed.
Your throat.
Your neck.
All the tension that gathers there from looking at screens,
From holding your head up all day.
Let it go now.
Your head is supported.
You don't need to hold it anymore.
Your Showdance.
Dune.
And then a little further down than that.
Your arms.
Your hands.
Uncurl and stretch the fingers if they've been gripping a phone,
A stealing wheel.
It's the end of a long day.
Your chest.
Just breathing.
And out.
Without effort.
Without instruction.
Your belly.
Soft.
The least.
Unguarded.
Your lower back.
Tired,
Perhaps,
From sitting,
Or standing,
Or carrying.
Let the surface beneath you take all that weight.
Give it over completely.
Your legs.
Heavy and still.
Done with moving.
Your feet.
Those faithful,
Unappreciated feet.
Let them be completely at rest.
You're lying down.
Are cuddled up.
Or wrapped in something warm.
And every single part of you can stop now.
All at once.
There's nothing left to hold.
For a moment.
Don't try to do anything with your breath.
Don't deepen it or slow it.
Are counted.
Just let it breathe itself.
Notice the breath.
Without your help.
Without your direction.
Your body just keeps going,
Quietly.
Steadily.
You're being breathed.
You're being held by gravity.
You're being kept warm by something soft around you.
You don't have to do a single thing.
And when you're this tired.
Sleep doesn't need to be chased.
It's already close.
It's been waiting patiently for you to stop long enough to let it in.
So just stay here.
Eyes soft.
Body heavy.
Mind beginning to blur at the edges of that quiet,
Welcome way.
If thoughts come.
Let them come and go.
If sounds filter in from outside.
Let them be distant and unimportant.
You did what you could do today.
You gave what you had.
And now finally.
.
.
You're letting yourself be looked after.
Rest will find you.
And a whole wish does.
Close your eyes just a little more.
Let your breath slow a little more.
Let everything just for tonight.
Be enough.
You.
Are enough.
Just rest now.
