Let the mystery hold you.
Begin by settling into a comfortable position.
Let your body be heavy,
Supported,
Safe.
Bring one hand to your heart,
One hand to your belly.
Take a breath in through your nose for a count of four,
Hold for a count of four,
And breathe out through your mouth slowly,
Counting to eight.
Do that again.
Inhale for four,
Hold,
And exhale for eight.
Feel yourself soften,
Feel yourself settle.
Now speak these words gently,
As if whispering them to the child within you,
To the parts of you that still thinks they need to hold it all together.
I don't have to figure it out right now.
This moment doesn't need an answer,
It needs my softness.
I surrender to the mystery that knows more than I do.
Let yourself feel the truth in that.
Let go of the need to know,
To predict,
To plan,
To manage,
To fix,
To solve.
Let it all slide off your body,
Like a coat you no longer need to wear.
Now imagine the questions in your mind,
All those thoughts and loops and wonderings.
Watch them appear like ink in water,
Dark and swirling,
But without shape.
And with each exhale,
Let them dissolve,
Let them drift,
Let them go.
There is nothing to figure out right now,
Only a body to rest,
A heart to hold,
And a soul that is already safe.
Say softly to yourself,
I rest in the arms of the unknown.
I do not need to steer.
I am safe to drift.
I am allowed to rest.
Again,
I am allowed to rest.
And again,
With your whole being,
I am allowed to rest.
Let the mystery hold you now.
Let the breath carry you.
Let rest take you gently into the waters of forgetting,
So that you can remember yourself again.
There is nothing more to do.
You are held.
You are safe.
You are loved.
Rest well.