Tonight,
As you fall asleep,
Effortlessly rewire your nervous system with love,
Breath,
And warmth.
It's time to start living in true peace,
Safety,
And freedom from fear.
This is your nervous system's lullaby,
And your quiet rebirth.
My name is Jacob,
And I'm here to tell you,
You've done enough for today.
Truly it is enough.
There's nothing left to figure out,
Nothing more to carry.
Here,
In this soft space of night,
Your body is invited to remember what it feels like to rest,
To finally feel safe enough to let go.
We'll begin by breathing together,
Soothe what's been holding on,
And then gently drift into a quiet story,
Nestled in a mossy cottage held by Mother Earth.
Along the way,
Your nervous system will begin to unwind,
And your whole body will remember what peace feels like.
So,
Let's begin with the breath,
The gentle anchor that's always been with you.
We'll breathe in through our nose for four,
Hold for four,
And exhale slowly out our mouths for eight.
There's no need to force anything,
Just soften into the rhythm.
Let the breath do the work.
Exhale all the air out of your lungs,
And we'll begin with an inhale in three,
Two,
One.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
Exhale for seven,
Six,
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
Exhale for seven,
Six,
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
Exhale for seven,
Six,
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
Exhale for seven,
Six,
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Inhale for three,
Two,
One.
Hold for three,
Two,
One.
Exhale for seven,
Six,
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
You can let go of the breathing pattern now.
There's nothing more to track or control.
Let your breath find its own pace,
Like a wave returning to the shore,
Steady,
Soft,
And natural.
You've done enough.
Now,
All that's left is to listen and receive.
Let my words speak to the parts of you that have been holding on for far too long.
The places inside your body that have learned to brace,
To clench,
To prepare for what might go wrong.
You don't need to be on guard right now.
You're not behind.
You're not too much.
You're not alone in this.
Feel into your shoulders,
Your jaw,
Your hands,
Your belly.
Notice if any part of you is still gripping,
Still bracing.
You don't have to make it relax.
Just offer it the possibility.
Let each area soften in its own time,
As if your body is slowly remembering how to trust again.
You've spent so much time in a state of readiness.
Always watching.
Always trying.
Always holding it together.
But here,
In this quiet moment,
You don't need to try anymore.
You're not being asked to be strong.
You're not being asked to fix anything either.
You're only being asked to rest.
Your nervous system is beginning to shift now.
From protection to peace.
From defense to deep surrender.
The part of you that learned to anticipate every outcome.
To stay one step ahead just to feel safe.
Even that part is welcome to exhale now.
It is safe to soften.
It is safe to stop searching.
It's safe to simply be.
And now,
In this softness,
In this stillness,
Your body begins to remember what safety and home feels like.
Let that remembering happen gently.
Not because you forced it,
But because you were willing to be kind to yourself tonight.
You are already healing just by being here.
Imagine yourself walking along a quiet forest path.
The air is cool,
But gentle.
Everything around you is hushed,
As if the trees themselves are whispering a lullaby.
Moss covers the ground in soft layers beneath your feet.
And the moon hangs low in the sky,
Glowing like a watchful guardian.
There's a cottage just ahead.
Small,
Round,
And nestled into the side of a hill,
As though it grew there naturally over time.
Its windows glow with a golden light,
And soft tendrils of smoke curl from the chimney,
Carrying the scent of something ancient,
Grounding,
Familiar.
You walk slowly toward it,
Not rushed,
Not searching,
Just following a quiet pull inside your chest.
The wooden door creaks open with the sound of welcome.
And the warmth of the room wraps around you instantly.
This isn't just a house,
It's a sanctuary.
And the one who lives here is Mother Earth herself.
You don't see her at first,
But you can feel her.
Her presence is in the walls,
In the firelight,
In the soft hum rising up through the floor.
It's a low,
Loving sound,
Like a song made of soil and sky.
And somehow,
You know it's meant just for you.
She guides you,
Without words,
To a small bed made of woven branches and moss,
Tucked beneath a round window where stars shimmer just beyond the glass.
Blankets that smell like lavender and pine cover the bed,
And the mattress gives beneath your weight as if it was shaped by your body's memory.
As you lie down,
You feel her energy gather around you like a soft cloak.
There are no expectations here,
No effort required.
Only rest,
Only return.
You feel her hands gently rest on your heart and your lower belly,
And she breathes with you,
Not to change you,
Not to fix you,
But to remind you that your rhythm belongs here,
And that,
In this moment,
You are whole,
Healed,
And perfect just as you are.
With each breath,
You melt a little more into the mossy mattress.
With each breath,
Your nervous system loosens its grip,
Especially the parts that have been holding on for far too long,
The ones that didn't know when it would be safe to rest again.
She hums to those places,
And they begin to listen.
Let go,
She seems to say.
Let go now,
My child.
Let the earth hold what you no longer need to carry.
Let the stillness rock you.
Let your healing happen softly.
You are safe in this cottage.
You are held by something ancient and true.
You are not alone.
Outside the window,
Starlight drifts like snow,
And inside your chest,
Peace begins to settle like a quiet snowfall.
Quiet.
Weightless.
Real.
You don't have to go anywhere.
You don't have to do anything.
Just be.
Just receive.
And now,
Let these words reach the deepest layers of you,
The ones beyond thought,
The ones that feel.
You are safe to rest.
You are safe to be still.
You are safe to be soft.
There is nothing wrong with you.
Your body is wise.
Your healing is already happening.
You are enough,
Just as you are.
You are worthy of love without needing to earn it.
You belong here.
Let every breath remind you.
You are safe.
You are loved.
You are free.
Let go a little more now.
Let go of today,
Of tomorrow.
Let go of needing to know how everything will turn out.
You don't have to hold the plan.
You only need to rest.
Sleep is safe.
Stillness is safe.
You are safe.
Let your body drift now,
Back into the rhythm of the earth,
Into the hum of starlight and moss.
Into the deep quiet of being held.
You don't have to hold it all anymore.
The night is holding you now.
You are not alone.
Good night,
My dearest friend.
Good night.
