Let the day be done.
Welcome.
You made it to the end of the day.
And before we do anything else.
Just notice that.
You are here.
The day happened.
Whatever it contained.
Whatever went beautifully.
Whatever went spectacularly wrong.
Whatever you finished,
Whatever you didn't.
Whatever you said.
Whatever you wish you hadn't said.
For these next few minutes.
None of it needs your attention.
You don't even have to try to fall asleep.
That's not your job right now.
Your only job.
If we can even call it a job.
Is to lie here.
Let the bed take your weight.
Actually notice it.
You don't have to hold yourself up anymore.
The mattress is doing that.
Your head doesn't need to hold itself up.
Your shoulders don't.
Your back doesn't.
Your legs don't.
You can give your weight to whatever is underneath you.
And perhaps your mind is still busy.
That's okay.
Maybe it's replaying something from today.
Maybe it's already rehearsing tomorrow.
Maybe it's producing the completely random assortment of thoughts that apparently become critically important the moment your head hits the pillow.
That's what minds do.
You don't have to stop it.
We're just going to begin letting the day be done.
Not resolved,
Not perfected,
Not understood.
Just done.
For tonight.
Take a breath in.
Nothing enormous,
Nothing forced,
Just a breath.
And let it leave when it's ready.
And again.
Breathing in.
And breathing out.
And as you breathe out.
Perhaps imagine that you're taking your hands off the day.
You've been holding it.
Managing it.
Responding to it.
Moving through it.
Thinking about it.
Making decisions inside it.
And now.
You can take your hands off the wheel.
Tomorrow will still be there tomorrow.
The things you haven't finished will still exist?
The unanswered message can remain unanswered.
The decision you haven't made.
Can remain unmade.
The conversation you keep replaying.
Doesn't need another rehearsal tonight.
There is absolutely nothing useful you need to produce from this bed right now.
Bring your attention now to your forehead.
You don't need to make it relax,
Just notice it.
Notice your eyes and the tiny muscles around them.
Your cheeks.
Your jaw.
Perhaps your tongue can become a little heavier in your mouth.
Notice your neck.
Your shoulders.
And perhaps without forcing anything.
Allow your shoulders to be 1% less involved in life.
They've done enough for today.
Bring your awareness down through your arms,
Your elbows,
Your forearms.
Your hands.
Your fingers.
Nothing for them to hold.
Nothing to type.
Nothing to carry.
Nothing to fix.
Let them be hands that are simply resting.
Notice your chest.
You don't have to change your breathing.
Your body already knows how to breathe while you sleep.
Imagine all the things your body has been doing.
Without your management all day.
Heart beating.
Lungs breathing.
Blood moving.
Cells doing whatever extraordinary little jobs cells do.
Without wants.
Sending you a message asking what you'd like them to do next.
Your body knows things your thinking mind doesn't have to manage.
Including rest.
Bring your attention towards your belly.
Let it be soft if it wants to be soft.
Still if it wants to be still.
Let it move gently with the breath.
If it wants to.
And then your hips.
Your thighs.
Your knees.
Your calves,
Your ankles.
And your feet.
All the way down to your toes.
Your whole body here.
And the whole day.
There.
Behind you.
You may notice your mind wandering back into it.
That's okay.
We don't need to drag it away.
When you notice you've gone back into the day.
You can simply say to yourself.
Not now.
Not now.
Not because it doesn't matter.
But because it doesn't need me tonight.
Perhaps there's something from today that you're carrying particularly tightly.
Maybe a moment,
A person,
Something you wish you'd done differently,
Something you're worried about,
Something unfinished.
You don't have to tell yourself it's okay.
You don't have to find the lessons.
You don't have to be grateful for it.
Just notice.
I'm carrying this.
And then see what happens if you add.
I don't have to carry it while I sleep.
Imagine placing it somewhere just for tonight.
Not throwing it away,
Not pretending it doesn't exist.
Simply putting it down.
Maybe by the side of the bed.
And if there's another thing.
.
.
Put that down too.
And another.
You can come back for any of it tomorrow,
If you still want it.
And now.
There is less to do.
So we can begin to use fewer words.
Feel the weight of your body.
Feel whatever warmth is here.
Notice the darkness behind your eyelids.
Breathing it.
And breathing out.
Nothing to achieve.
Nothing to sew.
Nothing more required from this day.
Let the bed hold you.
That your breathing happens.
And give your thoughts the space to become background noise.
Let them be.
And let this day Just.
Rest now.
I'll leave you here.
