Lie down if you can,
And let your body arrange itself however it needs to be held right now.
You don't have to get this right.
Close your eyes.
Let your mouth soften.
Your jaw.
The small muscles around your eyes relax.
For the next little while,
Nothing will be expected from you.
Your body has been working so hard,
Keeping you upright,
Keeping you going,
And keeping you from falling apart in front of everyone who needs you to stay whole.
Even now,
As you lie here,
Part of you might still be running,
Still holding,
Still anticipating what might happen next.
And that makes sense.
Your body learned a long time ago that stopping isn't safe.
But just for now,
Just for these few moments we're together,
We're going to practice something that your bones remember,
But your nervous system has forgotten.
We're going to practice letting the earth hold you.
Bring your attention to the back of your head.
Notice where it meets the pillow or the floor.
Feel the simple fact of contact.
Your skull.
The weight of it.
Resting on something that doesn't ask for anything in return.
Now feel your shoulder blades,
Both of them at once.
Notice the density there,
And the way that they're being met from below.
Notice your ribs along your back body.
The curve of them,
Protected and held.
Your hips.
Your sacrum.
The heaviest part of you.
Let that weight drop.
The backs of your legs.
Your calves.
Your heels.
So many points of contact.
Your body touching the world.
The world answering back.
You're not holding yourself up right now.
Gravity is doing that.
The earth beneath you is doing that.
Let yourself feel how much you're already being held.
Now we're going to go deeper.
Down past the skin.
Past the muscles that have been working so hard.
Imagine you could drop your awareness deep into your bones.
Your skeleton.
The deep architecture of you.
The part that doesn't perform.
That doesn't manage.
That doesn't keep the peace.
Your bones just are.
Quiet.
Dense.
Ancient.
The mineral density.
These bones have been carrying you through everything.
Through every step that you didn't think you could take.
Every day you showed up when you thought you had nothing left.
They've been holding you this entire time.
Now let them rest.
Drop into your pelvis.
The wide basin of bone.
The bowl that holds everything.
Feel how solid it is.
Nothing is asked of your pelvis except to be here now.
To be connected to the ground.
Let your awareness settle there.
Low and wide.
From this deep place,
Notice your breath.
You're not managing it.
The gentle rise.
The quiet fall.
Your body breathing.
Your heart beating.
All without your effort.
Without your vigilance.
All of this is happening without you having to make it happen.
You're being lived by something much older than your exhaustion.
Stay here in the density of bone.
In the pulse of the breath.
Even when you had to abandon it to keep going.
Let yourself be heavy.
Let your edges blur.
Let the boundary between your body and what holds it grow soft.
You don't have to be anyone right now.
You don't have to hold a shape or a story or a face for the world.
You can just be matter.
Breath.
Weight.
Texture.
Rest here as long as you need.
And when you're ready,
Begin to sense the room around you.
There's no rush.
Notice the air on your skin.
The sounds near and far.
Let your fingers curl.
Your toes wiggle.
And make small movements with the body.
Like you're gently waking yourself up.
Keep your eyes closed if you can.
Now roll to one side.
And come up to a comfortable seat.
Eyes stay closed.
And check in with yourself now.
You might feel a bit different.
Slower.
Denser.
More here.
That's your body remembering what it feels like to be held by something that isn't you.
Carry that with you.
The knowing that the ground is still beneath you.
That your bones are still quiet and strong.
And that you can stop even for a moment and the world doesn't collapse.
Walk gently after this meditation.
You're more connected than you know.
Sending all the love.
Be blissful.
