Begin by finding a position you can stay in comfortably for a while.
Let your body settle into whatever is supporting you.
And before we go anywhere,
Just notice that.
The weight of your body,
The places where you make contact with the surface beneath you.
The simple feeling of being here.
Take a slow breath in and let it go without holding onto it.
Another breath,
A little slower this time.
And as you exhale,
Allow some of the effort you've been carrying today to leave with it.
You don't need to make your mind quiet.
Thoughts can come and go.
Sounds can remain around you.
There is nothing you need to achieve here.
Just give yourself a moment to settle into the quiet between those things.
The small spaces between one thought and the next.
One breath and the next.
As you rest here,
Let your awareness begin to shift.
Slowly a new place begins to emerge around you.
Just ahead,
Warm light spills through an entrance.
The entrance seems to draw nearer.
And as it comes into view,
The warm light beyond it reveals a long stone chamber.
The chamber stretches out ahead of you,
Softly,
Quietly lit.
The walls are old stone softened by age.
Along them small alcoves have been carved into the surface and at the far end of the chamber a closed door awaits.
As you begin making your way through the chamber,
The purpose of this place starts to become clear.
Before continuing beyond that door,
The things that belong to this life can remain here for a while.
Nothing essential.
Only the pieces of identity you have gathered since entering this life.
The first thing that comes to mind may be your name,
The name you have carried through this life.
Let it come into form and when you are ready,
Place it in one of the alcoves.
For a little while it can rest here.
As you continue through the chamber other parts of your identity may begin to surface.
The roles you have taken on.
Who you are to your family.
To the people you love,
To the people who rely on you.
One by one,
Those roles can remain here too.
Not lost,
Simply sat down for a little while.
There may even be other things you have been carrying without realizing how closely they have become tied to who you believe yourself to be.
Responsibilities.
Expectations,
Ideas about who you are supposed to be.
Whatever is ready to be put down can stay here safely in the alcoves.
As the chamber grows quieter behind you,
The door at the far end has drawn closer,
And you may notice that something feels different now.
There is less to carry.
Less between you and the part of yourself that existed before the name,
The roles,
And everything that came after.
By the time you reach the end of the chamber,
The door is directly in front of you.
For a moment,
Your hand rests against it.
And then gently it begins to open.
Beyond the doorway is a vast,
Quiet space.
Dark water stretches out before you,
Farther than the eye can see.
Its surface moves gently,
A slow current passing through the stillness.
As you cross the threshold,
The dark water stretches beneath you.
But rather than sinking into it,
You find yourself supported just above the surface.
The current begins to carry you away from the doorway,
Slowly,
Gently drawing you forward.
Behind you,
The warm light of the chamber remains visible through the open door.
Ahead,
The water stretches into the distance.
And beneath you the current continues its steady movement.
Let it carry you.
After a while,
A light appears far ahead.
Small at first,
Steady against the darkness.
And as you draw closer,
Solid ground begins to emerge around it.
Standing there at the edge of the water is an old stone well.
The current carries you gently towards it,
And when you arrive you step onto the ground and approach the well.
Just below the rim,
The well is filled with perfectly still water.
And beneath its surface a light is glowing.
The longer you watch,
The more the light begins to rise.
It moves slowly through the water,
Growing brighter as it comes closer.
And somewhere within you,
Something recognizes it.
You know this way.
It continues to rise until it rests just beneath the surface.
And as it comes closer,
The feeling of recognition deepens.
This is not something separate from you.
It is the larger self from which you came.
The part that remained beyond this life when you entered it.
The light moves softly beneath the water,
Close enough to reach now.
Notice its color.
Notice how it moves.
How it makes you feel.
Allow your hand to move toward the water.
And when it feels natural,
Let your fingers slip beneath the surface and meet the light.
As you touch it,
Something familiar opens between you.
Not a new connection,
But one that has always been there.
For a little while,
Nothing else is needed.
You are simply here with the part of you that remembers what you have forgotten.
After a time,
Something begins to shift in the water.
The still surface changes.
And something from before this life begins to emerge.
The first thing that begins to take shape is a sense of what drew you toward this light.
Not the whole story,
Just one part of it.
Something that may help you understand what called you here.
Spend some time with whatever emerges.
As that first glimpse begins to recede,
Something else starts to gather beneath the surface.
At this time,
It carries the feeling of a connection that existed before this life.
Perhaps someone you knew,
A place you felt connected to.
Or a promise,
Purpose,
Or bond you carried with you into this life.
Take a few minutes to spend time here.
As that connection begins to fade,
The water gradually clears again.
And after a little while,
Something new begins to form beneath the surface.
This time,
The focus shifts to what you hope to bring with you into this life.
An intention,
A quality,
Something you wanted this part of yourself to remember.
Take some time to remember now.
Gradually,
Whatever has come through begins to recede.
The images soften.
The water clears.
Until once again there is only the still surface of the well and the light beneath your hand.
For a little while longer,
Remain here with your higher self.
If there is anything else it wants you to know before you leave,
Allow it to come through now.
When the moment begins to feel complete.
Allow your hand to slowly leave the water.
Before leaving,
Take a moment to offer your gratitude to the well for what it revealed,
For what it held.
And for what may still be waiting here another time.
And as you rise your attention begins to turn toward the water beyond the well.
Far across it,
The warm light of the open doorway is still visible,
Waiting exactly where you left it.
As you move away from the well,
The dark water opens before you once more.
And just as before,
You are gently held above its surface,
And the current begins to carry you back toward the chamber.
Little by little,
The doorway grows brighter.
The warm light stretches across the water as you approach.
Until you find yourself crossing the threshold once again,
Returning to the quiet stone chamber.
The chamber is just as you left it.
Everything you set down along the way is still here.
Your name is waiting for you,
And as you encounter it again,
Something is grounding in its familiarity.
The name that belongs to this life.
The person who came here today.
Farther along are the other parts of yourself you left behind.
Your roles,
Your responsibilities,
The expectations you've carried.
But they may not look quite the same now.
Some still feel unmistakably yours.
Others may feel lighter than they did before.
And there may be something you no longer feel the same need to carry.
There's no need to make a decision about any of it.
Only to notice what naturally returns with you.
And what,
For now,
Is easier to leave resting here.
As you make your way back through the chamber,
The entrance you first came through appears ahead.
Beyond it is the quiet awareness of the room where your body has been resting all this time.
And as the chamber begins to fade,
The physical world gradually becomes clearer again.
The surface beneath you.
The weight of your body resting there,
And the easy movement of your breath.
Slowly,
Sounds begin to return to the foreground.
The feeling of the air against your skin.
The sense of the room around you.
Allow your breath to deepen naturally.
Maybe inviting small movements to your fingers and toes.
Perhaps even a stretch begins to feel good.
There is no need to bring the whole experience back with you at once.
What matters will remain.
What needs more time can continue unfolding in its own way.
When you are ready,
Allow your eyes to open.
And let yourself return slowly.
Welcome back.
