Take a moment to arrive.
If things feel urgent or overwhelming right now,
That's okay.
You don't have to do anything about it in this moment.
For these few minutes,
There is nothing you need to fix,
Nothing you need to achieve,
Nowhere else you need to be.
You are allowed to be here exactly as you are,
With a busy mind,
With thoughts that feel loud,
Tangled,
Or relentless.
If it feels supportive,
You can gently close your eyes or soften your gaze.
Maybe you notice the surface beneath you,
The way your body is being held,
The places where you are supported without effort.
And when you are ready,
Let's begin by taking one slow,
Unforced breath in… And a longer breath out through the mouth.
And now,
Letting the breath follow its own natural flow.
No need to change anything,
Simply marking the beginning of this moment.
As we move through this practice,
Gently remind yourself,
You are in control.
You can listen,
You can drift,
You can open your eyes,
You can stop at any time.
Nothing bad is happening,
Your body is doing its best to protect you.
Even if your thoughts feel overwhelming,
They are not dangerous to you.
Maybe whisper to yourself,
I am here,
And I am okay.
Instead of trying to quiet your mind,
Let's try something different.
Let's acknowledge it.
Silently,
Gently,
See if you can name what's present.
Not the story,
Not the details,
Just the tone.
Is your mind racing,
Looping,
Planning,
Replaying?
You might simply say to yourself,
This is a busy mind,
Or there's a lot happening right now.
No judgment,
No analysis,
Just acknowledgement.
Maybe notice what happens when you stop pushing the thoughts away,
And simply recognize that they're here.
Often what intensifies overwhelm is the belief that it shouldn't be here,
That something has gone wrong.
But in this moment,
Nothing has gone wrong.
This is a mind asking for clarity and reassurance.
To offer your mind a place to rest,
We'll bring our attention into the body.
When you're ready,
See if you can choose one neutral anchor.
It might be the sensation of your breath at the nostrils,
The rise and fall of your chest or belly,
The feeling of your feet against the floor,
Or the weight of your body being supported.
There is no right choice,
Just choose what feels easiest today.
Gently place your attention there,
And when the mind moves away,
As minds do,
You're not doing it wrong.
Simply notice,
Thinking,
And gently guide your attention back.
As often as you notice,
With patience,
With ease.
There is nothing you need to force,
Nothing you need to manage.
If it feels supportive,
Maybe you imagine your thoughts like clouds moving across the sky.
They may be fast,
They may be heavy,
They may overlap.
And as you notice them moving,
There may also be a sense of being here,
Of being held,
Something steady beneath the movement.
Nothing needs to disappear for clarity to exist.
Clarity can feel like noticing,
I am overwhelmed right now,
And letting that be enough.
For now,
You don't have to have answers,
You don't have to figure anything out.
You are allowed to rest inside the not-knowing.
As we begin to close,
Maybe you notice if anything has shifted.
Without needing to measure it,
Without needing to name it,
Simply noticing what's here now.
Maybe there is a sense of a little more space,
Or a gentle softening towards yourself.
If overwhelm returns later,
You can gently remind yourself.
Your mind doesn't need to be quiet for you to be okay.
You can acknowledge what's here.
You can gently anchor.
You can allow things to be as they are.
When you're ready,
Take one more slow breath in,
And a full breath out.
Gently bring awareness back to the room.
Maybe wiggle your fingers or toes.
You can open your eyes if they were closed.
And when it feels right,
Allow this practice to come to a close.
May you meet whatever comes next with care.
