Welcome.
You don't have to do anything right now.
You don't have to change your breathing,
You don't have to relax your body,
You don't have to be mindful or focused.
There is no effort required of you at all.
This time is just for listening.
Let the words drift over you like a soft breeze.
Let them carry you,
Gently,
Into the quiet space of rest.
You are safe here.
Nothing is expected of you.
Just be.
Imagine you are lying beneath a sky that holds no weight.
It stretches endlessly above you,
Wide,
Open,
Soft.
The stars aren't twinkling for any reason.
They're just there,
Just like you.
No need to shine.
No need to dim.
Just be.
Feel that.
How the sky doesn't ask you to be anywhere else.
It doesn't ask you to think anything or fix anything or figure anything out.
It accepts you completely in this moment.
It welcomes you exactly as you are.
You're resting in a field.
The ground below you is warm.
The earth has held sunlight all day and now offers that warmth back to you,
Slowly,
Gently.
No need to move.
The ground is firm and steady.
You are completely subtle.
In the distance,
There's the sound of water.
Maybe it's a stream trickling softly through moss and stone.
Or maybe it's the ocean,
With waves that rise and fall,
Just like breath.
You don't have to picture it.
You can just let the idea of it rest in your mind like a feather floating down.
Just knowing it's there,
That's enough.
Now imagine a breeze passing over you.
It doesn't try to wake you or stir you.
It's not here to move the trees.
It comes and goes,
Like thoughts,
Like dreams.
You don't even have to notice it.
It's just there,
Like the presence itself.
Quiet and constant.
You're in a place where time moves differently.
There are no clocks here,
No schedule to keep.
The night doesn't hurry.
It unfolds slowly,
Like the petals of a flower.
They're like gentle lights around you,
Soft and kind.
Flickering,
Not to guard your path,
But simply to keep you company.
They need anything from you.
They don't ask questions.
They don't even speak.
They just are,
Bright without trying,
Just like you.
You feel your body begin to sink.
Sink inward.
You don't have to count.
You don't even have to notice it.
It's happening on its own.
Life is breathing you.
Soft and infinite,
Like the space between leaves in a forest canopy.
Light trickles through,
Dappled and delicate.
The same way a stone is part of a riverbed,
Or a leaf is a bottle.
And here,
In this deep stillness,
Presence wraps around you like a blanket.
You don't have to chase it.
It's already here.
It's already you.
Maybe you notice the weight of your body sinking deeper now,
Or maybe you don't.
It doesn't matter.
Sleep doesn't ask for permission.
It arrives gently,
Like dusk,
Like the tide,
Like the hush of snowfall.
There's a cabin nearby.
It doesn't need to be pictured clearly.
Just know that it's there.
A quiet space filled with warmth.
The door is open.
Inside,
The light is low.
There's a fire burning softly,
Casting shadows that sway like slow dancers.
There's a bed made just for you,
Covered in thick blankets and quiet peace.
It waits without expectation.
You don't have to go to it.
You're already held by it.
As you listen,
You may feel parts of yourself letting go.
Little tensions that uncoil.
Little thoughts that soften.
Every second that passes holds you in stillness.
The light is not in a hurry,
Not toward anything.
Just away from the noise,
Into softness,
Into quiet,
Into presence.
Even the sound of my voice is growing softer now.
Not because you need it to,
But because the night is ready to hold you.
It has always been ready.
You are floating now.
Weightless.
Timeless.
Held by everything and needing nothing.
There is nothing more to hear.
Nothing more to do.
Just be.
And now,
Rest.
