Now just come to rest.
Let your body settle into whatever is supporting it.
Close your eyes and take three slow conscious breaths.
Each one longer and deeper than the last.
With each exhale let the day just fall away.
Let the rolls and the masks fall away.
The expectations that were made of you today or will be made of you tomorrow can just dissolve away.
And just for now you don't have to be anything at all.
Notice how that feels.
The relief of putting everything down even briefly.
Remember this feeling.
It will guide you through what comes.
Imagine yourself walking now along a winding path through a beautiful garden.
It is morning early before anyone else has woken.
The air is cool and fragrant.
Roses grow on either side of the path in every shade of pink and white and blush.
Their perfume is beautiful.
You walk slowly trailing your fingertips along the petals as you pass.
Some of them still wet with the dew of the morning.
At the end of the path there is an old stone cottage.
Smoke is rising gently from the chimney.
The door is open and warm light spills out across the threshold welcoming you,
Beckoning you inside.
You go in.
The cottage is simple and beautiful.
Stone walls,
A fire,
A wooden table and some wild flowers in an old jar.
And sitting in a chair by the fire,
Hands folded in her lap,
Is a woman who makes you feel immediately that you have been here before.
You know her from somewhere far back in your memory.
This is one of your ancestors.
Not necessarily someone you knew in this life,
But a grandmother of your lineage,
A woman who carried something of you in her before you arrived.
She smiles when she sees you.
A smile that says,
I've been waiting for you for a long time.
She gestures to the chair across from her and you sit down.
For a moment neither of you speaks.
The fire crackles.
The scent of the roses outside gently wafts through the open door.
Then she leans forward and looks at you with ancient kind eyes and she says,
I see you.
Not the you that you show the world.
I see the real you.
The one underneath all those careful layers.
And she is extraordinary.
She's always been extraordinary.
She reaches out and takes both of your hands in hers.
Her hands are warm and wrinkled and strong.
I want to show you something,
She says.
I want to show you the masks you carry.
Not to shame you,
But to show how wise you were to create them.
They kept you safe when safety was scarce.
But some of them are very old now and they are heavier than they need to be.
You become aware of something on your face.
Not one mask,
But several.
Layered like veils,
Each one slightly transparent,
Slightly different.
Your ancestor watches you with complete patience as you begin to feel them.
The first one,
The one you wear most in public.
The composed one,
The capable one.
The one that says,
I'm fine,
I have everything under control.
Reach up slowly and lift it away.
Set it gently in your lap.
The second one,
Older.
The good one,
The one who doesn't ask for too much,
Doesn't cause trouble,
Keeps the peace.
Do you remember that one?
Lift that one away too.
And feel the air on the skin beneath.
Feel the freshness and the increasing lightness.
And perhaps there is another one.
The one who acts strong when she's terrified.
The one who smiles when she wants to weep.
The one who gives endlessly so no one will notice how empty she sometimes feels.
Just let that one go too.
Your ancestor picks up a single rose from the table beside her.
Blush pink,
Just opening.
Petals beautifully soft and imperfect.
She holds it out to you.
This is you,
She says,
The real you.
A rose doesn't apologize for blooming.
It doesn't make itself smaller so others aren't dazzled.
It simply opens in its own time,
In its own way.
And it trusts that its beauty is enough.
You take the rose.
You hold it.
And she leans forward once more.
The masks protected you when you needed protecting.
But you are safe now.
You are safe to be real.
The women in your lineage,
We could not always be ourselves.
But we are asking you to be yourself on our behalf,
For all of our sakes.
You are the healing.
You are the healing for all of us.
Feel the rose in your hands,
Its softness,
Its reality,
And breathe these words in.
It is safe for me to be real.
My truth is not too much.
I honor the women who came before me by finally becoming myself.
The cottage fades softly.
Your ancestor smiles once more,
A smile that follows you back.
She nods in the knowledge that you have understood.
You feel deeply moved.
And when you feel ready,
Take a slow breath in and a long releasing breath out.
Feel yourself back in your body,
Back in the room.
Carry the rose with you in your heart.
And remember her eyes when she looked at you.
The love.
The connection.
The joy.
When you feel ready,
Take another deep breath and just come back into the room you are in.
