Welcome to your practice of yoga nidra.
The waves of grief.
Before we begin,
I'd like to acknowledge that it takes courage to invite in our feelings of grief.
Our lives are shaped daily.
Bye.
How much we love and the losses we sustain.
This is a normal part of our human experience.
But never an easy journey.
My guiding intention for this yoga nidra practice is to offer steadiness.
Offer choice.
And offer companionship as your experience ebbs and flows.
You will experience all the layers of your being as you move through this yoga nidra.
Welcoming what is here.
But knowing your grief and loss does not need to transform during your practice.
Know you're right where you need to be.
You're not doing your grief wrong.
You are moving through something very,
Very real.
And so at this time,
You're invited to settle into a position that offers as much support to your body as possible today.
Settling in for the benefits of deep rest.
You may lie down.
Recline.
Sit up with support.
Placing blankets or cushions beneath the body.
Let comfort be your guide.
As you prepare your body for this practice.
Know that you remain in choice throughout this practice.
You may always move.
Open your eyes if they are closed.
Orient to your room.
Place a hand on your heart or another steady place.
Or step away from the practice.
There is no correct way to experience these words.
Notice if it would be supportive to have an eye cover.
Eliminating some of the light in the room.
Helping your awareness to turn inward towards your own inner landscape.
And then feel the surface beneath you.
Notice where your body is being met by the floor.
Your chair,
Or the supports.
And allow some of your weight to be held.
Listen to the sounds nearest you.
Perhaps the sound of these waves.
Sounds farther away.
Notice the sound comes and goes.
And your awareness receives it without needing to hold on to it.
You have arrived with whatever is here.
Tenderness,
Numbness.
A sense of longing.
Anger,
Frustration.
Fatigue.
Relief.
Love.
Confusion.
Or perhaps something that doesn't have a name.
Nothing needs to be changed before you may rest.
Grief comes and goes in waves.
It stays,
It quiets,
And it visits when we least expect it.
One moment may feel manageable and the next may take the breath from the lungs.
You may have asked.
Why do I feel okay one moment and overwhelmed by the next?
Why does this seem to bring everything to a halt?
Will this always feel so unpredictable?
Quite often the question of why.
Remains unanswered.
One understanding from the science of grief is that the mind and body do not process an altering loss all at once.
The reality of what has changed is learned slowly in moments and layers.
And the heart gradually learns what it means to live in a world reshaped by loss.
And know that the waves of emotion are not setbacks.
They are part of how grief unfolds.
They remind us there are no shortcuts around something so real.
Grief cannot be bypassed,
Hurried.
Or completed according to someone else's calendar.
Once again,
You are not doing grief wrong.
You are doing it in your own time,
In your own human way.
You are moving through something very real.
Grief never leaves us completely.
With time,
Its intensity,
Rhythm or texture may change.
It may become quieter and then return.
It remains rooted in connection and love.
And the love that you have does not disappear.
You are experiencing emotional waves and you are not behind.
You have not lost any progress.
You are meeting love and loss as they live within you today.
And now imagine,
Sense,
Or simply consider a very small light in the darkness.
There's no need for it to illuminate the whole path.
It is only enough light for this breath.
This moment.
Gently let this light of hope have a color.
Choose the color that comes to you now.
It might be golden blue.
Violet or green.
Rose,
White,
Or a color with no name.
Your color does not need to mean anything.
Notice only what you have chosen.
It may be very hard to find hope right now.
If that is true,
You do not have to pretend.
For this practice,
I will hold the light of hope for you.
I will keep it nearby.
You may pick it up at any time,
Or simply know that it is being held.
If the words feel available.
Repeat inwardly.
A gentle light of hope remains within me.
Repeat this three times slowly.
If the words do not feel available.
Listen as I hold them for you.
A gentle light of hope remains within you.
Bring your awareness to your physical body.
This body has carried love,
Change,
Memory,
And loss.
It does not have to explain what it knows.
Recognize the sense of touch.
Feel fabric against your skin.
Notice temperature.
Sense and feel pressure.
Feel air touching the face and hands.
Sense and feel the weight of the body and the steady contact beneath you.
Bring your awareness to your mouth and the sense of taste.
Even if the taste is neutral.
Awareness of scent the air your room.
Or simply the passage of breath through the nose.
Awareness of sound arriving and fading.
If your eyes are closed,
Sense darkness,
Color,
Or shifting light behind the eyelids.
If the eyes are open,
Soften your gaze.
And let seeing require less of your effort.
Bringing your awareness to the right hand.
Right thumb.
First finger,
Second finger,
Third finger,
Little finger.
Palm of your hand.
Back of your hand.
Wrist,
Lower arm.
Elbow,
Upper arm.
Shoulder.
Right armpit.
Right waist.
Right hip.
Awareness of your right thigh.
Kneecap.
Back of the knee.
Shin.
Half.
Ankle,
Heel.
Sole of your foot,
Top of your foot.
Right big toe.
Second toe.
Third toe.
Fourth toe.
Little toe.
The whole right side together.
The whole right side together.
Awareness of your left hand.
Left thumb.
First finger.
Second finger.
Third finger.
Little finger.
Palm of your hand.
Back of your hand.
Wrist,
Lower arm.
Elbow,
Upper arm.
Shoulder.
Left armpit.
Left waist,
Left hip.
Awareness of the left thigh.
Kneecap.
Back of the knee.
Shin.
Calf.
Ankle Heal sole of the foot.
Top of your foot.
Left a big toe.
Second toe.
Third toe.
Fourth toe.
Little toe.
The whole left side together.
The whole left side together.
Now become aware of the back body.
The places that may be less visible,
Yet deeply supported.
Back of your head.
Base of your skull.
Back of your neck.
Right shoulder blade.
Left shoulder blade.
The space between the shoulder blades.
Awareness along the right side of the spine.
Along the left side of the spine.
The whole length of the spine.
Back ribs.
Middle back.
Lower back.
Back of the waist,
Back of the pelvis.
Right buttock,
Left buttock.
Back of the right thigh.
Back of the left thigh.
Both knees.
Both calves.
Both heels.
Feel the entire back body at once.
Surrendering only the weight that it is willing to surrender.
The back body is received by support.
Your awareness moves to the crown of your head.
Your forehead.
Right temple,
Left temple,
Right eyebrow,
Left eyebrow.
The space between the eyebrows,
Right side and left side.
Both eyes.
Resting back.
Right ear.
Left ear.
Both ears listening.
The space between the ears.
Right cheek,
Left cheek.
Nose.
Bridge of the nose.
Tip of the nose.
Upper lip.
Lower lips.
The meeting place of the lips.
Jaw.
Tongue resting inside the mouth.
Awareness of the right collarbone.
Left collarbone,
Center of the chest.
Right side of the chest.
Left side.
The whole chest.
Upper abdomen.
Navel.
Lower abdomen.
The ball of the pelvis.
Feel the whole front body.
Notice any place that feels open.
Guarded.
Tender absent.
Moving or still.
There is no preferred sensation.
Feel the back and the front body together.
Right and left side together.
Inside and outside together.
The whole physical body resting here.
The whole physical body resting.
The whole physical body resting.
If there is a place where grief is felt in the body.
You may notice it from a little distance.
You do not need to enter it.
You may surround it with support.
Imagine the colored light of hope resting nearby.
Not changing anything,
Just keeping it company.
We'll gently begin to bring awareness to the movement of breath and living energy.
There is no need to take a deep breath.
Grief can change breathing.
Sometimes making it shallow.
Uneven,
Or suddenly full.
Just gently allow the breath to be as it is.
Notice your inhalation arriving.
Notice the exhalation leaving.
Breath after breath,
The body is accompanied.
Imagine or sense your chosen color moving gently with the breath.
On the inhale,
A small glow gathers around the heart,
The ribs,
Or any place that welcomes it.
On the exhale,
The color spreads softly throughout the body.
Like soft moonlight moving across water.
Breathing in,
A gentle light is received.
Breathing out,
The light is allowed to rest.
No demand,
No brightness is required.
If hope remains difficult to feel.
Let the breath carry only the possibility of hope.
I continue to hold the light nearby.
You may borrow its warmth without needing to believe anything.
Breathe in.
Held.
Breathe out here.
Breathing in.
Sense color.
Breathing out,
Sense space.
Your awareness moves gently towards the field of thoughts,
Emotions,
Memories,
And patterns.
Thoughts may arrive quickly.
Feelings may change without warning.
This movement is not failure.
It is part of the wave.
It is part of grief.
Imagine standing safely on the shore,
Watching the ocean.
Each wave rises,
Crests,
And changes.
You do not have to stop the water.
You do not have to enter.
The water.
You may witness from the shore.
A memory may arise.
A question may arise.
A moment that seems small may suddenly carry the force of the whole loss.
And silently offer,
This is a wave.
I am not doing grief wrong.
Begin to sense heaviness.
The weight of what has changed.
A downward pull of grief.
The body heavy and supported.
You do not need to intensify it.
Touch only the edge of heaviness.
And now sense lightness.
Perhaps only one small place feels light.
The fingertips.
The breath at the nostrils.
The colored glow.
Let lightness exist without betraying love.
Heaviness and lightness.
Heaviness felt in the body.
Lightness felt in the body.
Heaviness on your exhale.
Lightness rises on the inhale.
Both can be long.
Neither cancels the other.
Sense fullness.
A heart full of memory,
Love.
Words,
Or feelings.
Then sense emptiness.
The space where someone,
Something.
Or a former life is missing.
Fullness and emptiness.
Love and absence.
The inner space is wide enough to notice both.
Recall a felt sense of being overwhelmed.
A wave rising quickly,
A tension narrowing,
The breath changed.
Touch only what feels manageable here.
Now recall a moment of steadiness.
Feet on the floor.
A hand held.
A familiar sound.
A tree,
An animal.
A person.
Quiet breath.
Steadiness does not erase the wave.
It offers somewhere to stand while the water moves.
Overwhelm and steadiness.
Wave and shore.
Changing emotion and the awareness that notices change.
Allow all opposites to loosen right now.
Thoughts may come and go.
You are not required to answer why.
For this moment,
You may simply witness what moves through.
And now bring your awareness to this quiet capacity to observe,
Discern,
And know.
There is never a demand to find meaning in loss.
Clarity may be very small.
Knowing what is needed in the next hour.
Recognizing a boundary.
Remembering a source of support or allowing your body rest.
Imagine the ocean after a wave has passed.
The water still moves,
But there is a wider horizon.
Above the horizon is open sky.
An inner space with room for grief.
For love.
For memories.
For breath.
And the unknown.
Within this inner space.
Notice whether an image wishes to appear.
Perhaps a shoreline at dawn.
Lantern in a Window a path beneath trees.
Hands cupping your colored light.
A night sky holding one steady star.
Or perhaps no image appears.
Empty space is also welcome and your experience.
Kindly ask your heart,
What would support me now?
What may I set down for today?
Not forever,
Only for today.
What love or value do I wish to carry forward?
Receive a word,
Image,
Sensation,
Or silence.
There is no wrong response.
Allow clarity.
To be quiet and unfinished.
See your colored light again.
Repeat your sankalpa,
Your intention.
Three times.
Mentally.
A gentle light of hope remains within me.
If you cannot hold it today,
Let me hold the words and the light for you.
A gentle light of hope remains within you.
Releasing any questions,
Any images.
Move towards the subtle ease of simply being.
Beneath the effort to understand or manage any experience.
Notice that your body is known.
Breath is known.
Thoughts,
Memories,
And emotions are known.
The waves are known.
And awareness is present through each changing experience.
Rest as the witness,
Not distant from your humanity,
But spacious enough to be with it.
No fixing.
No performance and no timeline.
You are exactly where you are in this moment.
You're invited to be exactly how you feel in this moment.
Peaceful or restless.
Tearful,
Dry-eyed.
Hopeful or hopeless or somewhere in between.
The wave may rise.
The way of me quiet.
Awareness remains present.
Present here with you.
Simply being present is enough.
Begin to notice your natural breath again.
Feel your body being breathed.
Feel the support beneath you.
And the space of the room around you.
Hear sounds nearby.
Sounds farther away.
Sense temperature and touch.
Allow awareness to move gradually outward.
Without leaving yourself behind.
Once again bring to mind your chosen color.
The light may be dim.
Distant or held for you.
Every form is enough and just as it should be.
Repeat your sankalpa inwardly one final time.
A gentle light of hope remains within me.
Or receive these words.
I am holding a gentle light of hope for you.
You may pick it up at any time.
Invite movement into your index finger.
And then allow the other fingers to join.
Perhaps circle the wrists and ankles.
Bend your knees or stretch in any way that feels welcome.
Taking all the time you need.
If it is comfortable,
Roll to one side and pause.
Or remain exactly where you are.
And let your transition honor the pace of your body.
You may decide to sit up,
Return to a seat.
Allow your eyes to open softly.
Orient to the room.
Notice colors,
Shapes,
And the steadiness of the ground.
Grief may continue to ebb and flow.
Its waves are not setbacks.
They are part of loving,
Remembering.
And learning to grow around this loss.
Never minimizing.
Honoring yourself,
Honoring what has changed.
You are not behind.
You are not doing grief wrong.
You are moving through something very real.
Perfectly in your own time.
May the light be held when you cannot hold it.
May love remain near.
May you meet each wave with compassion for the life that carries it.
Peace be with you.
