Hello,
My name is Joy and welcome to this Yom Kippur inspired meditation.
In Judaism,
Yom Kippur is a day for private reflection.
It's an invitation to pause and to step outside the ordinary rhythm of your life.
It's a day to look honestly at who you have been,
Who you are now,
And who you hope to become.
It's a day to remind ourselves to live fully in the face of our mortality.
This meditation can be a sacred practice on any day of the year.
So take a moment to get comfortable in a way that best suits you.
Allow your body to relax.
And let go of any tension.
Close your eyes and arrive fully in this space.
Take a slow,
Gentle breath in.
And let it go.
And again.
And let that breath go.
At this moment,
There is nowhere else you need to be.
Nothing to accomplish,
Nothing to fix.
Just.
Be.
Here.
And breathe.
And observe the natural rhythm of your own breath.
I invite you to contemplate something we do not often think about.
The fact that our lives are finite and that we are mortal beings.
Even with this knowing,
Most of the time we live as though there will always be more time to say what needs said,
More chances to forgive,
Or to tell someone,
I love you.
The truth is we don't know how many more moments there will be.
But rather than turning away from this truth,
Allow that truth to be an invitation.
An invitation to enter this very moment,
To open to your life and to appreciate and be grateful for each breath and for your aliveness.
Take another slow breath in and out.
And notice how your breath naturally happens.
Breath comes and goes all on its own.
Think of all the breaths you have taken in your life.
Through childhood,
Difficult times,
Moments of joy.
And here you are.
Still breathing,
Still here in this very moment.
There is something truly extraordinary about that.
On Yom Kippur,
We speak of the Book of Life.
Imagine you are holding your own book of life.
Your life's story,
The people who have entered and departed your life,
The places you have been,
The things you have learned,
The love you have given.
The love you have received.
The moments.
That transformed you in some way.
Think of someone now whose presence alone has shaped your life.
What did they give you?
What did they teach you?
What remains of them?
In you.
And notice this.
Even when someone is no longer physically present,
Something of their essence continues.
We carry people.
With us.
They become part of who we are.
They live on in us.
This is one of the amazing mysteries of mortality.
We do not live forever,
But we can touch lives that continue after we are gone.
And now gently ask yourself.
What am I leaving behind?
And not possessions,
Not accomplishments.
But what am I leaving in the hearts of other people?
What do people experience when they are with me?
Do they feel seen?
Do they feel heard?
Do they feel loved?
And if there is something you wish were different.
Simply be aware of it.
Don't judge yourself or feel the need to change any part of yourself.
This is about realizing that you can become more honest with yourself.
You can be more awake,
More present to the life you have been given.
Being more willing to understand.
And to listen.
Perhaps there is someone you need to forgive or someone from whom you need forgiveness.
Or maybe there is something you are waiting to say or to express,
But you haven't yet.
Just allow yourself to know what this may be.
And imagine now.
That someone whispers in your ear.
You have one more year to live.
Not forever.
Just one year.
With one year to live,
What becomes important?
What would you stop worrying about?
What would you stop postponing?
Who would you want beside you?
And now let go of that thought.
Let it drift away.
None of us can know with any certainty the years left in our life.
But we do know this.
We have this moment,
This breath,
This day.
The opportunity to choose how we live.
And maybe mortality is not simply.
A reminder that life ends.
It is a reminder that life is happening right before our very eyes.
Take another deep breath.
Feel the air as it enters and leaves your body.
Feel yourself here.
You are alive.
You are here.
And this moment will never happen again.
I encourage you to make.
A quiet promise to yourself.
Not a promise to become someone entirely different.
But a promise to be a bit more awake.
To the life you already have.
To notice the people you love.
To say the words that matter.
To forgive when you can.
To ask for forgiveness when you need it.
To pay attention to the small miracles all around you.
The Hebrew word l'chaim translates as to life.
Not to a life without end,
But to one made precious by its limits.
Take one more slow breath in.
And release it.
And silently to yourself.
Say L'chaim to this breath.
To the people I love.
To the life I have been given.
To the life that is still mine to shape.
And finally.
Lahayum.
To this moment.
This one exquisite unrepeatable moment.
And carry this thought with you.
We do not know how many pages remain in our book of life.
But you hold the pen for this page,
For this very moment.
May what you write in your book of life be written with an abundance of love.
And when you are ready,
Breathe in and out and gently open your eyes.
