To your soul.
You're awake.
And that's okay.
You are right where you are meant to be.
In the quietness of dark.
Beneath a sky that has always known your name.
You are not alone.
Above you.
The window.
Through clouds.
Through the very roof of your room.
Grandmother Moon is up.
She has been watching over sleepless ones for a very long time.
Long before clocks.
Long before Worry had a name.
She was there.
And she is here now.
Shiny.
Watching over.
Reaching for you.
Reflecting your light.
Grandmother Moon has no light of her own.
Just as she reflects the light of the sun,
She reflects the light of you.
The warmth of your own heart.
The glow of your own song.
She gathers it up.
And pours it back over you.
A silver golden light.
Feel it now.
Your own light arriving at the crown of your head.
Soft.
Silver.
Barely there.
Like a hand resting gently on your hair.
The way a loving grandmother would.
Smoothing everything down.
Quiet in everything.
Feel this light pour slowly across your forehead.
Dissolving the furrow between your brows.
Softening your temples.
Pooling around your eyes,
Your tired eyes that have seen so much today.
Allow your eyelids to feel heavy.
Close them all the way down.
The moonlight moves to your jaw.
Allowing it to fall open just slightly.
Let your tongue rest and allow your teeth to part.
Your light pours down your neck now.
Warm and slow as honey.
Releasing every thread of tension.
And into your shoulders.
Your faithful shoulders that carry so much.
Raise your shoulders up.
And drop them.
Allowing them to fall away from your ears.
Let the moonlight hold what your shoulders have been holding.
Now down through your arms,
Your elbows,
Your wrists,
All the way into your hands.
Feel your fingers soften.
Feel your palms open.
There is nothing left to grip.
Nothing left to hold on to tonight.
The light moves into your chest now.
The tender space where your song lives.
Feel it glow there.
Not bright.
Not urgent.
Just.
.
.
Aloham at the center of you.
The light now spreads through your belly.
Place where the worries of the day gather.
Let the lunar light soften it.
Feel it rise and fall.
Easy.
Unhurried.
Down through your hips.
Your thighs.
Those muscles that carried you through the day.
They are done now.
They can rest.
And ease.
Your shins.
Your calves.
Releasing.
Releasing.
Releasing.
Into your ankles,
Your feet.
The soles of your feet.
Allow light to encompass your feet and however they have carried you.
Let them be still.
Your whole body is bathed in moonlight now.
Held from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes,
Blanketed in silver and gold.
Or hell.
And now,
Listen.
There was a song in this room.
You may not hear it.
Yet your body knows it.
Your body has always known it.
It is the sound of your own breath.
Your very first lullaby.
The one that began the moment you arrived in this world.
The one that has been singing in you every moment since.
Through every sleep.
Every week.
Everlasting.
Supporting your living.
Supporting your loving.
Let us listen to it now.
Together.
Breathe in.
Gently through your nose.
3.
.
.
Before.
Be.
Bye.
5 6 7 and slowly release through your mouth 2 3 three,
Four.
Bye.
Six.
Seven.
8.
All of the sounds.
Let it carry the rhythm so your mind can rest.
In 2,
3,
4.
Old.
3.
.
.
On.
Bye.
Six.
Seven.
And release.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Sip.
Again.
Too.
3 4 Hold 2 3 4 5 6 7 and let go.
3 forward.
Bye.
6 7 8 one last time.
Slowly now.
10.
2… 3… 4… 4… two,
Three,
Four,
Five,
Six,
Seven,
And all the way out.
3.
Or more.
Bye.
Six.
7.
Still awake.
That's alright.
And the right where you belong.
Maybe there is something on your mind.
Something that followed you out of sleep a thought.
A query.
A note that is still sounding when the rest of your song has gone quiet.
It is welcome here.
And it is welcome to rest somewhere else for now.
Grandmother Moon has been holding things for souls since the beginning of time.
Are yours.
.
.
Vicious?
Tears,
Hopes.
All that feels too heavy to hold in the dark.
She is here for yours.
Breathe in.
And as you do,
Gather up the thought.
To worry.
The one sitting on your chest.
The ones circling in your mind.
Let it rise with your breath.
And now,
Exhale your notes of worry to the moon.
Feel them leave you.
Watch or receive them.
She holds them in her silver gold light,
And they are safe there.
They will keep until morning.
Once more.
Breathe.
And gather up whatever else is there.
Another thought.
A note that doesn't belong here.
She will take them all.
Exhale them to Grandmother Moon.
And one last time.
Any last whisper of the day still sounding.
Be there,
Yeah.
And let it go.
Give it to her.
Allow her to receive it.
Your breath has settled now.
Your notes of worry are resting in the arms of the moon.
And her light.
Still here.
Still pouring over you.
Still warm.
Begins to rock you now.
Gently.
The way a lullaby rocks.
This is her calling.
Grandmother Moon's calling.
To hold you and watch over you.
And sing you back to slumber.
She has been here a million times before.
She will be here a million times again.
You are one of her own.
And your breath carry you now.
Let the song beneath everything rock you gently.
Gently back.
Gently back to sleep.
You are in hell.
You have always been held.
Sweet dreams,
Dear soul.
