Allowing yourself some time to settle and derive,
Letting the body be comfortable if possible,
Feeling for a position of the body on the ground that would be most kind,
Most helpful towards depth of connection with aliveness.
Whether lying down or sitting or standing,
A chance to let the body nestle into the ground,
Letting the cells feel their gravity,
Letting the breath have a little more space.
And if we could imagine that someone who really cares about us,
Really cares about our genuine being and our genuine happiness.
If that person just simply asks us now,
How are you?
And we don't feel the need to cover up anything or to pretend.
Just inwardly that we are allowed to express.
And this person or this part of us is really listening,
Really seeing us with life's eyes,
Really hearing us deeply,
Whatever we feel needs to be expressed.
What comes up first and most easily,
And giving that some more space and some more space and some more space.
And also what else that doesn't come up so easily to our attention,
To our care.
And giving that some more space.
We could imagine this person or feel this place in ourselves that can really listen and care and yet not believe our story either,
Not add fuel to our fire.
Just listening.
And is still listening.
I feel tired or I feel shaky or excited or calm or I can't believe how much fear or hatred.
Or I was doing fine and then it started to rain or I am so happy.
I feel at home or there is something buzzing in my stomach and I don't know what it is or whatever.
Not telling the story that we think we are supposed to tell.
Not necessarily needing to tell a story if there is not one.
How are you?
And what else?
And what else?
Some more space may open out for what else is there.
And feeling our tenderness,
The inside of the story if there is a story.
How fearing or hating that person or that thing or that sound or that food or that thing about ourselves or whatever.
How that is tender inside us.
How it is painful and tight.
As if someone had taken our shoes and we are wearing shoes that are too small.
Just the pain of that too small mind or heart.
Or how there is just this lake of joy quietly reflecting the sky.
Or how there is both at the same time.
Fury and peace.
Just leaving some more space for it all.
Leaving some more time for it all to unfold,
To be met.
All of it,
Maybe.
Maybe it's okay,
Even when it's uncomfortable.
Maybe it's okay anyway.
Not the end of the world,
Maybe.
And that.
And if we hear ourselves saying as we listen to ourselves.
If it were not for the noise,
If it were not for the cold or the heat,
If it were not for having slept well or at all.
If it were not for whatever it may be.
Could we climb inside the story and feel the tenderness locked in it?
And just stay there for a while.
Just for a while.
The story.
