You've arrived here because the world might be feeling like it is too much,
Too loud,
Too fast,
Too hurtful or maybe too empty,
Maybe you feel flooded or maybe nothing at all.
You might be holding your breath without knowing it or shut down completely.
You might not know what you're feeling,
Only that it's all too much.
Whatever brought you here,
It's okay.
This meditation is about making space.
You've made it to this moment and that is all that matters.
A space just for you and your parts.
So begin by finding a position that feels as safe and comfortable as possible.
Take a quiet moment to check in.
What does your system need right now to feel comfort?
You don't have to sit up unless your body wants that.
You can stand or move,
Rock,
Fidget,
Draw,
Doodle or you can be completely still.
You can lie down,
Curl up,
Cocoon yourself in blankets,
Pillows,
Softness,
Pressure,
Whatever helps you feel comforted.
Let your breath come however it comes.
You don't need to deepen it or change it.
Just notice air moving in,
Air moving out.
Let your breath find the rhythm it needs.
This rhythm has been with you all along and that is enough.
Now softly begin to turn inward,
Like dimming the lights in a noisy room,
Like closing the door behind you and entering a quieter place.
Let yourself arrive at the edge of your inner world.
Your eyes might want to close or gently soften,
Gazing into the space ahead.
Let yourself settle.
You might say to yourself,
I'm here now.
There is time.
There is space.
I'm with you just as you are.
And if there is no sense of inside,
No parts,
No thoughts,
No feelings,
No images,
That's okay.
You don't need to look for anything.
Let yourself rest in a kind of soft waiting.
Your system may simply need stillness and that's welcome here too.
Sometimes something begins to show itself.
A flicker of feeling,
A word,
A phrase,
A color behind your eyes,
A texture,
A sound,
A shape or ache,
A tightness or flutter in your body.
It might come from inside or be evoked by the world around you.
Whatever it is,
Trust it belongs.
You might ask gently,
Is there something here that's feeling overwhelmed?
Then wait.
No pressure,
No forcing,
Just a spacious kind of listening.
Just an invitation to share whatever needs to be shared.
And if something answers in any way,
You can offer a soft greeting.
Hello,
I see you.
I'm with you.
Thank you for showing me how hard this is.
You don't have to change.
I'm just here with you.
Let your words be a kind of inner exhale.
And if no part steps forward,
If there's still fog or a blankness or shut down,
That's okay too.
There may be a part that needs stillness.
You might say,
Maybe something in me needs space to rest.
I'm here.
I'm resting with you.
You could slowly bring gentle awareness to your body.
What sensations are here?
Is there a place that feels heavy?
Another that feels tender?
If one part of you is calling for you,
You might rest your hand there.
And if that feels okay,
You could say,
I'm here.
I'm holding you too.
You're not alone.
And if touch feels too much,
You might imagine sitting beside this part of you.
Not too close.
Not too far.
Just near enough.
That it knows you care.
You might ask softly,
What do you need right now?
And listen,
Without needing to do anything.
The answer might be a movement.
Or letting your body shape itself into safety.
Warmth or coolness.
A blanket.
A pillow.
Silence or sound.
A drink or food.
A scent or texture.
Something steady to hold in your hands.
Or something else.
Just notice.
Let your breath offer a little warmth.
A little steadiness.
You don't have to fix anything.
You're already doing enough.
You might send a message to all your parts.
This reaction in my system makes sense.
I'm here for as long as you need me to be.
And let yourself rest.
And when you're ready,
Slowly begin to return to the world around you.
Wriggle your fingers or toes.
Notice what is supporting you.
The surface beneath you.
Textures touching your skin.
You might open your eyes gently if they were closed.
And now ask the question again.
What would help me now in the outside world?
Perhaps a drink.
Something warm or cool.
Food.
Something safe and grounding.
Softness against your skin.
Weight on your body.
A quiet corner.
A song that wraps around you.
A smell that soothes.
A light that doesn't hurt.
Or something else.
Give yourself permission to meet that need as this meditation draws to a close.
And send out a gentle reminder to any part who needs to hear it.
You can return to this space whenever you need it.
You don't have to do this alone.
