Welcome to this February meditation.
You're welcome to begin by finding a position that works for your body today.
That might be sitting,
Lying down,
Standing.
There is no correct posture here,
Only what is sturdible,
Supportive or neutral enough for you.
If closing your eyes feels okay,
You can do that.
If not,
You might soften your gaze or let your eyes rest on something steady nearby.
Nothing needs to change right now.
I want you to take a moment to notice where you are.
The temperature of the space,
The weight of your body being held by the ground,
The chair,
The floor,
The earth beneath you.
And you don't need to relax,
You don't need to arrive anywhere special.
You're allowed to be exactly as you are.
If it feels helpful,
Bring some attention to your breath.
Not to control it,
Not to deepen it,
Just to notice that breathing is already happening.
Maybe you notice where the breath is easiest to feel today.
The chest,
The belly,
The nostrils.
Or maybe you don't notice it much at all.
And that's okay too.
Or maybe it doesn't feel good for you to notice your breath and that's okay as well.
There is no requirement to feel calm,
Open or connected.
This is a practice of permission,
Not performance.
February sits in a quiet place in the year.
The days are growing longer,
But only slightly.
The light returns slowly,
Without urgency,
Without spectacle.
Inborg reminds us that beginnings don't always look like movement.
Sometimes they look like stain.
Like worms gathering beneath frozen ground.
Like life reorganizing itself,
Where no one is watching.
You might imagine this time of year not as a call to open your heart,
But rather as an invitation to let the heart rest in conditions that are kind enough.
Nothing forced,
Nothing demanded.
If it feels accessible,
Bring gentle awareness to the area of your chest or your heart space.
Remember not to analyze it,
Not to make anything happen,
Just noticing.
Is there a sensation there?
Warmth?
Tightness?
Neutrality?
Numbness?
Or something else entirely?
All of it is welcome.
Connection doesn't begin with openness.
It begins with safety.
With the body sensing that it is not being rushed or evaluated.
You might place a hand on your chest or somewhere grounding,
Like your belly or your knees.
Only if it feels supportive,
Of course.
If not,
You can keep your hands where they are.
And let the body know,
In whatever way it understands,
That there is no pressure here.
Heartfelt connection isn't about intensity or closeness on demand.
It's about the quiet relief of not having to explain yourself.
Of not having to give more than you have.
Of not being asked to give faster,
Open wider,
Or be more available than it feels possible.
Many of us learned connection under conditions of urgency,
Or performance,
Or even imbalance.
So if your body stays guarded,
Or hesitant,
Or distant,
That isn't a failure of this practice.
It's just information.
It's wisdom.
And I want you to remember that you are allowed to go slowly.
If it feels okay.
You might imagine connection not as something between people,
But as a feel you can step into,
Or step back from,
At your own pace.
Connection with the floor holding you.
Connection with the chair supporting your weight.
Connection with the fact that you're breathing alongside countless other beings right now,
Even if you never meet them.
And you don't need to picture anyone specific.
You don't need to feel warmth or love.
Just notice what happens in your body when connection is non-demanding.
And maybe nothing happens.
Or maybe there's a small softening.
Maybe there's resistance.
But all of it belongs.
This practice honors that care is not neutral.
That some bodies have been asked to give endlessly.
That rest,
Slowness,
And gentleness have not been equally available to everyone.
So here,
Right now,
You're not asked to override your limits.
You're not asked to bypass your context.
You're not asked to turn yourself into a project.
You're allowed to receive.
Even if receiving feels unfamiliar.
And even if it's just receiving the steadiness of this moment.
If it feels right,
You might quietly offer yourself these words.
Not as affirmations,
But maybe as possibilities.
I don't have to do this alone.
I don't have to earn rest.
Connection can be slow.
Belonging doesn't require explanation.
You don't need to believe these words.
Just let them pass through like the weather.
As we come towards the end of this time,
Begin to gently widen your awareness again.
Noticing the room.
The sounds around you.
The way your body is held.
There's no rush to transition.
No right way to feel after this.
In bulk reminds us that tending matters more than blooming.
That showing up is enough.
That connection begins when the conditions are kind.
And that we can help create those conditions together.
When you're ready,
You can move your fingers or toes.
Open your eyes if they were closed.
Or simply take a moment longer before turning to whatever comes next.
And carry with you whatever feels supportive.
And leave the rest here.
You're welcome back anytime.
Thank you for meditating with me.
