Peace and welcome and greetings wherever this meets you.
My name is Jonathan Stalls with Intrinsic Paths and I'm honored to be moving and inviting and breathing with you in this.
I am recording this from a public park surrounded by large,
Mature,
Reaching,
Rooted trees,
A cool breeze,
Flocks of geese,
Surrounding traffic both on street and in sky,
And a mix of families and people moving through the park.
So I invite you and me and us to be with the sounds that come with that.
You will hear them as we move and flow.
And I also invite you to be present and with whatever sounds greet you right outside your door in your environment wherever that is.
And so the nature of this invitation is rooted in unhurried movement.
And so if you need to pause the audio to get to a place where you can begin moving,
Whether that's by foot or on a wheelchair or powered stroller,
Preferably outside if you can,
If you are comfortable,
If it's healthy to do so.
It can be planning to move slowly in a yard and maybe only in the yard.
It could be on sidewalks,
On streets,
Residential streets.
Could be in parks.
Could be anywhere.
I also invite you if outside is not an option to take this with you with a moving stance in a room,
On a kitchen floor,
Anywhere.
And if moving the body is still not an option,
I invite you to breathe deeply throughout listening and to roll your shoulders and to roll your wrists and your ankles as a way of moving blood and honoring movement.
So wherever this meets you,
I invite you to take,
I invite us to take three to four really deep breaths.
We'll breathe all the way in.
Slowly out.
Just breathing deeply at our own pace,
At your own pace,
And that we breathe in the mystery and the wisdom of what's around us.
We breathe it deeply in.
We breathe out the mystery and the wisdom of what's within us.
We breathe in the wisdom of the breeze and the sky and the trees.
And we breathe out the wisdom of our lungs and our heart and our blood.
So I am also recording this audio as the sun is setting,
As the complexity of the night sky and the stars and the moon mix and dance with the warmth and lightness of the sun.
So I invite you to move with this potentially at sunset if you can,
If you are able.
And if not,
Just imagine that image,
That essence as we move.
So I just invite you to slowly start moving.
And as you move,
I invite you to feel and notice and honor your body.
If you are moving by foot,
Noticing the rolling of your feet,
Noticing gravity.
If you are moving on a wheelchair or powered stroller,
I just invite you to notice the weight of your body and the earth underneath you and the breeze and the wind.
As you continue to move,
Be mindful of your breathing and how it is such a wondrous participant with all of creation,
With all the trees that catch your carbon dioxide,
Nourish it and move it and make it into oxygen,
This incredible,
Mystical,
Mysterious cycle of life.
You honor your lungs and the mystery of how they survive such complex tensions and pressure.
We just honor it and we keep moving with it,
Slowly moving.
So with this movement and with the setting sun,
We hold and we honor the complexity,
The depth of the night,
The horizonless,
Edgeless wonder of the night,
The stars that we see with our eyes that are actually the stars of so many years past and everything in between our fragile bodies moving and engaging and resting and sleeping.
So in this dance of night and day,
Of star,
Of moon and sun,
We also honor the season for many of us where the nights are extra long,
Where the invitation to rest and to go inward is dense and deep and wide.
So we just move with that.
We move with that dance.
We move with that invitation.
Perhaps as you move,
You notice as the setting sun hits the edges of leaves and branches where there is shade and shadows and where there is still edges of light and glimmers almost sparkling and holding on,
Maybe not ready to rest,
Maybe eager to rest.
Then we honor fallen leaves and branches.
We honor what needs to shed,
What needs to go into the ground,
Into the soil to nourish new beginnings.
As we move with those things,
We invite you.
I invite me.
I invite us to honor and witness what holds on,
What might not be ready yet for rest,
What might be so eagerly needing,
Maybe fiercely needing rest.
And in all of this,
We move with what cannot yet be seen.
As the sun goes down and as the night fills the sky,
We are faced and met with what cannot yet be seen.
And in the great vastness,
The great unknown,
The great mystery,
We are still breathing.
We are still moving.
So just move with these invitations,
Just keep moving with what cannot be seen,
With how we breathe in the midst of what cannot yet be seen.
And I'm going to offer a poem.
I'm going to slowly read this poem as you move,
As you open,
And then as you honor,
And as you listen,
And as you draw out what might want to rise in you,
And as you tend to what might want to rest in you.
Into the void,
Laying on the dirt,
Eyes to the sky,
Calling my deeper name.
All the hiding,
My secrets,
My pride,
Don't listen.
Get up,
Humility is the lie.
Groans in the gut,
Trembling exposure,
My wounds beg me to stay into the void.
Realm of the shadows,
Wind on the skin,
Gravity and pain.
You're asking too much,
I'm not ready to die.
Bury it all,
Destroy the evidence,
Dignity is the lie.
Why do I cling?
To what and for who?
Loving myself must help me love you into the void.
Your temptations rise and addictions thrive,
Oh fire of the unknown.
Do I have what it takes to be wholeheartedly free?
To move on this earth,
Honest and seen.
How dare you defy my tricks,
My machines?
Healing is the lie.
I roll over on my side,
Ignoring false voices,
Facing the water and the whisper of trees.
To the void I come,
Humbly,
With dignity,
To heal and be free.
So we keep moving,
Just inviting one,
Two,
Several of those phrases,
Those words,
Just inviting them to move with us into the void,
Into the vastness,
Into the night,
Into the dark,
Out on our edges.
The wind against our skin,
Our breathing and our being.
We keep moving,
We keep listening.
As you move I invite you to find a tree or a place where you can stop calmly,
To take three or four more deep breaths,
All the way in,
Slowly out,
All the way in,
Honoring the wisdom of what's around us,
Slowly out honoring the wisdom of what's within us.
Breathing in invitation and courage to step and move and trust the void.
Breathing out slowly and patiently the courage to listen and honor the mystery inside of each of our bodies and hearts and stories.
If your movement is nourishing and grounding I invite you to continue walking,
Rolling,
As long as you can,
As you need to.
I invite you to go back and re-listen to the poem and see what reaches and stirs.
Thank you for being alongside this invitation and peace and courage and dignity and justice and love and space and healing to us all as we dance with the night and the stars and the sun and the moon.
Peace.
