Take a moment to arrive.
There is nothing you need to fix or change,
Nothing you need to push through or make sense of.
See if you can simply allow yourself to be here,
Just as you are.
If it feels comfortable,
Begin by noticing the support beneath you,
The surface holding your body,
The steadiness of what's underneath without needing anything in return.
You might gently notice where your body makes contact,
Your feet,
Your legs,
Your back,
Your hands.
There's no right way to feel this.
If you notice sensation,
That's okay.
If you notice very little,
That's okay too.
There's no need to do anything.
See if you can allow a sense of being here to come in its own time.
You can stay with what feels manageable,
And take in as much as feels right.
When you're ready,
Take a slow,
Easy breath in,
And let it go at your own pace.
If you've been feeling disconnected from your body,
Coming back into it can feel unfamiliar,
Even a little tender.
Sometimes disconnection isn't obvious.
You might still be functioning,
Thinking clearly,
Getting through your day,
And yet the body can feel distant,
Quiet,
Hard to sense.
You might notice it as a numbness,
Or a sense of floating,
Or feeling up in your head.
You might notice tension without feeling relief,
Or a lack of sensation where you expect there to be one.
There's no need to decide whether this applies to you.
Just notice what,
If anything,
Feels familiar.
So we move slowly,
With choice,
With care.
Begin by bringing your attention to your breath,
Not changing it,
Not deepening it,
Just noticing that it's happening.
You might notice the breath moving in your chest,
Or your belly,
Or perhaps you don't notice much at all.
Whatever you experience is welcome here.
If it feels okay,
Gently place a hand somewhere on your body,
Anywhere that feels neutral or comforting,
Your stomach,
Your thigh,
Your arm.
Let the weight of your hand be felt,
The warmth,
The contact.
You may begin to notice subtle sensations,
Heat,
Movement,
Weight.
There's no need to name or analyze them,
Simply noticing is enough.
If at any point this feels like too much,
You can return your attention to the surface beneath you,
Or to the sound of my voice.
You are allowed to come and go.
You don't need to arrive anywhere else,
Just notice the body that's already here.
See if you can sense your body as a whole,
Not in detail,
Just the general shape of you,
The outline of your body in space,
Contained,
Held,
Here.
You don't need to do anything with this,
Just notice the sense of having a body,
Of being here.
Sensation doesn't have to feel strong or steady,
It can be faint,
Quiet,
Barely noticeable.
You might even notice the absence of sensation,
And that is okay.
When you're ready,
Take another gentle breath,
And notice if anything feels even slightly more settled.
If nothing changes,
That's okay,
This moment is still enough.
As we begin to close,
There's no need to rush away from this space.
See if you can notice one thing that would feel supportive in your body right now.
Rest,
Warmth,
Movement,
Stillness,
Water.
You don't need to act on it immediately,
Just noticing is enough.
If it feels comfortable,
Gently bring awareness back to the room,
The sounds around you,
The air on your skin.
And when you're ready,
You might begin to invite small movements,
A stretch,
A roll of the shoulders,
Wiggling the fingers or toes.
Notice how the body moves through this moment in its own way.
This steadiness can stay nearby,
And when it feels right,
Allow this practice to come to a close.
May you meet whatever comes next with care.
