Hello,
Dear one,
You've done enough now,
Truly enough.
The day is quietly folding itself away,
Let it,
You've offered the world your presence,
Your patience,
Your pace.
Now it is time you offered the same to yourself.
If it feels right,
Take a breath with me now,
A slow one,
The kind of breath you forgot how to take until you hear someone deeply inhale and exhale.
There,
That's all it takes.
Just one breath and already,
You feel your body begin to soften and trust the surface holding you.
Imagine in your hands is something warm,
Fingers curled around a mug of your favourite tea,
The heat seeps into your palms and suddenly your whole body remembers that you are allowed to soften.
The light is dim now,
Up above in the sky,
Silky clouds are feathered in slow rolling waves.
Mauve,
Ash grey and a faded blush dance across their surface.
Soft like nightfall,
Tender like dusk.
Up ahead in the distance there's a path,
Have you walked it before?
Maybe,
Or maybe not.
It matters not because here in this moment the path is waiting for you.
At the edge of the path,
A lantern swings gently from a hook,
It glows softly,
Just enough to light your way forward.
The flame flickers once and you know,
This is the threshold.
There's no door,
No sign,
No ceremony,
Just a quiet invitation.
You step over and just like that,
The world behind you blurs,
You can let go now.
As you step forward,
The ground is soft beneath your feet,
Springy with moss,
Laced with roots.
You walk slowly,
Not because you have to,
But because there is no need to rush.
Nothing chasing you,
Nothing to chase,
Just you,
Your breath and the soft glow of the lantern by the path.
You feel the air has changed,
It's cooler here in the space where calm beckons.
It welcomes you like an old friend.
A soft breeze brushes your cheeks and you notice your shoulders have lowered just slightly,
Your jaw is relaxed,
Your belly gently rises,
Falls,
Like leaves quietly drifting down,
Down,
Down to the forest floor.
You reach out and touch the bark of a tree,
It feels rough but grounding,
It feels real.
The lantern light continues,
Always a few steps ahead.
It isn't hurried,
Nor is it distant,
Just leading you gently as if it knows where you're going.
Even if you do not.
You brush through an archway of ferns,
The path opens,
And you step into a small grove.
Ah,
It's familiar.
Soft moonlight filters through the canopy,
Dappled,
Silver,
Glorious,
And quiet.
The trees hold space the way only trees can,
No questions,
No expectations,
Just presence.
In the middle of the grove is a bench made of stone and wood,
Worn smooth by time and weather.
You sit.
The lantern hangs now from a branch above you.
It's soft light pooling at your feet.
And in this moment,
In this small glowing circle,
You remember what you have known all along.
You don't have to hold the whole story.
Just this moment.
Just this breath.
Your hands are warm.
Your spine is long and loose.
Your eyes,
Soft and clear.
The wind moves slowly through the trees.
Somewhere nearby,
A stream hums quietly.
Not needing to be heard,
But content to sing anyway.
And you feel yourself dissolve little by little into the hush of it all.
Your fingers.
Your chest.
Your thoughts.
All gone quiet now.
Nothing pressing,
Nothing unfinished,
Nothing required.
Only stillness.
Only this.
Sleep finds you here,
Not because you called it,
But because you stopped calling everything else.
You are safe.
You are so safe.
And you can let go now.
This is your time.
This moment is your home.
And the lantern will burn beside you,
Steady,
Until morning comes.
