Let your body settle completely.
Do you need to ship?
Adjust,
Scratch,
And itch.
Do that now.
Wiggle your toes,
Roll your shoulders.
Give yourself permission to writhe in your body before we begin.
When you feel ready.
Let everything go still.
Let's take three breaths together in through the nose.
Out through the mouth.
Again,
Fill all the way up.
And empty all the way out.
Relax just a little bit more.
Inhale all the way in.
Everything out.
Welcome in.
I'm so glad you're here.
You don't have to arrive fully,
You don't have to be ready or okay or put together.
Just willing to breathe.
And we'll start right there.
Stay in this position that feels completely supported.
Let the surface beneath you take your weight.
It's already doing it.
You don't have to help.
Close your eyes.
If that feels right,
Or soften your gaze.
Take a breath in through your nose.
Fill all the way up.
And allow it to fall out through your mouth.
Again,
All the way in.
And even longer on the out.
Inhale one more time.
This one is entirely yours.
Breathe in whatever this moment is offering.
And breathe out.
Everything you carried in.
Feel now where your body meets what's supporting you.
The weight of you being held.
Let your shoulders drop.
Your jaw softened.
Your chest,
That tender,
Working hard,
So steady space.
Let it breathe.
Place one hand over your heart and just rest it there.
Feel the warmth of your own hand.
The steady pulse beneath it.
This heart has been working so hard,
Feeling so much,
And carrying what words can't always reach.
Allow it to be witnessed right now.
You don't have to explain it or understand it.
Just be here.
With your heart.
Let's move through your body slowly.
Begin at the crown of your head.
Imagine a warm bed.
A soft,
Diffused-like light coming through a cloth.
Let it spread across your forehead.
Smoothing,
Not fixing,
Just softening.
Around your eyes,
The space behind them that's been working so hard to make sense of things.
Let it rest now.
Your cheeks,
Your throat.
That place where feelings sometimes get held,
Get caught,
Get swallowed back down.
Breathe a little space into your throat right now Let it open.
Bring your attention into your chest.
This is where so much lives for you right now.
And that's allowed.
It's OK.
It's what hearts do.
They hold things.
You're allowed to have a heart that's full.
That fullness isn't a problem to be solved,
It's evidence of how deeply you love.
Bring your awareness down through your belly.
Let it be soft.
Unguarded through to your hips.
All the quiet holdings there,
The fears,
The frustrations,
The doubts,
The stress,
Down through your legs,
All the way to your feet.
Feel your feet.
However they're resting right now.
The Earth is beneath you.
Steady,
Quiet,
Completely unbothered.
It doesn't need you to be anything.
It's simply holding you.
One full breath in.
Let your lungs fill completely.
Pause at the top.
And a long,
Slow exhale.
Let everything settle just a little bit more.
Allow yourself to arrive.
Now notice the room or the space around you.
The sounds,
The temperature.
The feeling Notice it and then very gently begin to let it go.
Let it be soft at the edges.
Like the room is becoming less defined.
Like its edges are blurring the way things do in the last moments before you fall asleep.
Feel the surface beneath you growing warmer.
More welcoming,
Like wrapping around you rather than just holding you.
Feel your body growing a little heavier.
Beautifully heavy.
The kind of heavy that means you're finally.
.
.
Finally letting go.
Your breath is slowing on its own now.
You don't have to manage it.
Your body knows how to do this on its own.
Just been waiting for permission.
Notice how your edges are being softened.
The boundary between you and the air around you.
Less defined.
You are here.
And you are also expanding.
With each exhale,
This space fades a little more.
The sound of the ordinary world grows quieter.
Gets further away.
Like you're drifting inward and forward at the same time.
Into something warmer.
Something older something that's been waiting for you to arrive.
You don't need to see it yet.
Just feel yourself moving forward.
Worth it.
Getting closer following that warm feeling.
Following a sound.
That you recognize.
And now just ahead of you.
The world opens.
Find yourself standing at the edge of a vast ocean.
Beautiful.
Still.
It is so big and so expansive.
It's the kind of water that makes you realize how large the world actually is.
The kind that puts everything into proportion.
The water stretches out before you farther than you can see,
And it's the color of the sky just after sunset,
The soft silvers and rose.
All those beautiful shades that the light comes after.
The air here is warm and perfectly still.
There's no wind,
No urgency.
No sound except the softest,
Most occasional lap of water at the shore.
The ground beneath your feet is smooth stone,
Worn beautiful by years of the gentle water moving in and out.
Cool and solid under your feet,
Each stone shaped by patience,
Each stone shaped by time doing its quiet,
Invisible.
Healing works.
Now look out over this water.
Really look.
See how the light moves on its surface.
Not lickering or restless.
But breathing,
Like the lake itself is breathing.
And you find that standing here something in your chest begins to match that breath.
Slightly,
Softly.
.
.
Your breath,
Finding the rhythm of the water.
Without you asking it to.
Now look down.
And in your hand is a small,
Smooth pebble.
Hold to the touch.
A lot heavier than it looks.
And you know without knowing how that this stone is holding something Beautiful.
And challenging.
And hard.
And courageous.
All at the same time.
And all for you.
It's not a word or a label.
But a deep feeling itself.
A deep knowing.
The weight that has been living.
In your heart.
The ache that doesn't always have a name.
And then it has too many names.
In a wave that keeps returning.
All of it held in this small,
Cool,
Smooth stone.
Hold it for a moment.
Let yourself acknowledge it to be a witness.
To the beauty,
The duality,
The complexity.
The reality.
Yes.
What I'm carrying is real.
And it's been heavy and hard.
And amazing.
And challenging.
And beautiful.
When you're ready.
Very gently bring your arm back.
And let it fly.
Release it.
Watch it fall.
Watch the vast still surface.
Receive it.
Perfect.
Small.
A quiet ripple.
Moving outward.
In slow expanding circles,
Wider and wider and wider still until the circles are so large you can barely trace them.
Until they reach the edges of what you can see,
And then… stillness.
The lake didn't break.
It receives.
It took what you offered and it made the difference.
Part of it's something.
Enormous.
Something that can hold it easily,
Something that has held far more than this and has remained at peace.
Stable,
Sturdy,
Predictable,
And still.
Notice your hand now.
It feels open and light.
Notice your chest.
Maybe a little more spacious and room to breathe.
Stay here at the water's edge.
There's nowhere to be,
Nothing to figure out,
No version of yourself that you have to perform.
Now,
Very slowly.
Notice that you want to come closer.
So you step forward onto the smooth stones at the water's edge.
The water is warm here and lapping softly at your feet.
And something begins to happen.
Your edges,
The ones that you've been holding so carefully.
Begin to soften.
You're not disappearing.
You're just softening.
The boundary between you and the water becomes less distinct.
Less defined.
Less defended.
The warmth of the water moves up through your feet,
Into your ankles,
Into your legs,
And it's not water exactly.
It's more like the feeling of being received.
Of being allowed to be part of something bigger.
And as that warmth moves through and what has been tight begins to loosen,
What's been braced for impact begins to release What has been carried begins to find the water.
The anxiety.
That low constant hum.
Waiting for something that you can't name.
Let it find the water now.
Watch it dissolve at the shore.
Watch the lake,
Take it without flinching.
Without issue,
Without trauma,
Just receiving.
And maybe,
Tenderly,
Gently,
There is love in you right now.
Love that doesn't know where to go.
Love that's looking for somewhere to land.
Let it come to the surface.
Let it bubble up,
Let it rise.
You don't have to do anything with it.
But feel it.
And breathe into it.
This love is not lost,
It's not wasted,
It does not dissolve the way other things do.
Love becomes part of the water.
Part of the light on its surface,
Part of the air that moves so gently across this whole vast space.
Because love stays.
It always stays.
The sky above this lake is enormous.
Look up.
Stars begin to appear not one by one but all at once the way they do when you finally notice them when you go out to some big sky place and all of a sudden it looks like the entire universe is there And the light here is different from the world that you left.
It's softer,
More golden.
Like standing inside something that loves you.
Feel the warmth at your back.
Like a hand resting gently between your shoulder blades.
Reminding you that you are not alone.
Whatever you believe in.
Love itself,
Or spirit,
Or God,
Or the universe that held you before.
Held you before you had a name for love.
Let it be present with you here,
Now.
Feel it the way you feel the ground from beneath,
Without needing to be asked or searched,
Just here.
And into this space some words offered softly.
Receive them at whatever depth feels true to you.
I am allowed to grieve and still be helped.
My heart finds its way to love.
I am not alone.
I find my way back to myself through tenderness.
The love I carry is never lost.
It lives in me,
It goes with me.
Is me.
Breathe all of that in.
Let it be true in your body,
Your mind,
Your soul.
Feel the lake around you,
Still and vast,
The beautiful sky overhead.
Holding everything you brought and remaining completely effortlessly.
At peace.
This is what's possible.
To carry tenderness and still be vast and open.
To hold grief.
And still be.
And the quiet beauty of healing.
You are more like this water than you know.
Very slowly begin to become more aware of your body.
The weight of it,
The warmth of it.
The surface beneath you.
Let the water stay in you as you return.
Not as something that you have to carry,
But something that carries you.
Rock your head side to side.
Bring your awareness back to your breath,
Slow and steady.
Maybe bring your hand back to your heart.
Take a breath in… all the way in.
And even longer on the way out.
One more,
Letting the fullness of where you have been come back with you.
And the ease and the peace on the breath out.
When you feel ready.
Gently open your eyes.
Allowing the stillness to stay a little longer.
Today,
You went somewhere real.
You felt the love and the peace.
That's available to you.
At any time.
It's going within.
Allowing yourself the courage.
To come back to the water.
