Welcome to this brief moment of peace.
Those few precious minutes before the day truly begins.
When your coffee is brewing.
When the house is still quiet.
When you have the small window of time that belongs only to you.
This is not just a pre-coffee break.
This is a sacred pause.
A threshold moment.
A chance to arrive fully in your own life before the demands of the day pull you in a hundred directions.
Lie down and relax.
Close your eyes.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and exhale slowly through your mouth with a gentle sigh.
Releasing.
Arriving.
Settling.
Feel yourself landing here.
In this quiet moment.
In this body.
In this new day that hasn't quite begun yet.
You are in the space between sleeping and doing.
Between rest and action.
Between being and becoming.
And this is your time.
Before the day sweeps you up in its current,
Take a moment to set your course.
What do you want to carry with you today?
What quality?
What energy?
What reminder?
Your morning sankalpa might be simple.
I move through this day with ease.
I remember to pause.
Or I am enough exactly as I am.
This is your anchor.
This is your touchstone.
Something that you can return to when the day gets chaotic or overwhelming.
When you feel yourself rushing or stressing,
You can remember this moment,
This intention,
This choice you made before the day began.
Take a moment now to let your sankalpa arise.
Don't overthink it.
Let it come from somewhere deeper than thought.
What does your soul need today?
And when it's clear,
Repeat it silently three times,
Letting it settle into your consciousness like cream stirring into your coffee,
Becoming part of everything.
Your intention is set and it will travel with you through this day.
Now bring your gentle awareness to your physical body,
This faithful companion that will carry you through whatever today brings.
Start with your feet.
Feel them resting.
Feel your feet which will walk you through this day.
Notice the weight of them.
The temperature.
Do you feel air on your skin at the feet?
Any contact with the surface or clothing,
Perhaps socks?
Your feet are here.
They are grounded and they are real.
Now feel your legs,
Strong and supportive.
Feel your thighs,
Your calves,
Ready to carry you wherever you need to go.
Feel the weight of your legs,
Any air on the skin or clothing,
The surface of the floor.
Bring awareness to your pelvis and hips.
Allow the hips to feel heavy and relaxed.
Scan your awareness from the right buttock to the left,
To the pubic bone,
The pelvic floor,
The bones of the pelvis.
And now move your awareness upward to the belly,
Soft and relaxed.
With each breath,
Your belly gently rises and falls.
This is your center,
Your core,
Your place of digestion and intuition.
Let it breathe.
Feel your chest,
Your heart space.
Sense your lungs.
Your heart has been beating all night while you slept and it continues now,
Steady and faithful.
Pause here to observe any sensations around the heart,
Maybe sensing its steady rhythm.
Your lungs breathe you even when you're not thinking about it.
Notice the quiet miracle of your heartbeat and your lungs expanding and contracting.
This is your aliveness.
Now feel your shoulders.
Relax them further toward the earth.
You're not in action mode yet.
You're still in being mode.
Let your shoulders remember that and soften them.
Your arms down to your hands,
Resting,
Open and receptive.
Your hands,
Which will do so much today,
Type,
Touch,
Hold,
Create.
For now,
They simply rest.
Feel the skin at the palm.
Soften.
Each fingertip curl in.
Relax the hands.
Soften your neck,
Your jaw.
Release any unconscious clenching there.
Relax your face,
Your eyes.
Let the surface of your eyes soften and sink backwards deeper into their sockets,
Releasing tension from the forehead,
The temples,
And all the way over the scalp.
Feel your whole body now as one complete presence,
Here,
Alive,
Breathing,
Preparing for the day,
But not yet in the day.
This body is your home.
Feel yourself at home.
Now bring your attention to your breath.
The one thing that's always with you,
The one thing you can always return to,
No matter how chaotic the day becomes.
Notice your natural breath.
Don't change it.
Don't control it.
Simply witness it.
The air flowing in.
The air flowing out.
Your breath is like the steam rising from your coffee,
Visible proof of warmth,
Of life,
Of presence.
Watch it the way you might watch steam curling upward in the morning light,
And take three slow,
Intentional breaths now.
Now in your mind's eye,
Imagine a cup,
Perhaps a cup in your hands,
Warm,
Comfortable to hold.
Maybe it's your favorite mug.
Inside the cup is not just coffee,
Or tea,
Or whatever you're drinking this morning.
Inside this cup is the day,
The entire day,
Waiting for you.
And you get to decide how you'll drink it.
Will you gulp it down anxiously,
Barely tasting it,
Burning your tongue in the rush?
Or will you sip it slowly,
Savoring it,
Paying attention,
Being present to each moment.
Imagine bringing this cup to your lips.
Notice the warmth against your lips,
The first taste on the tongue,
The warmth traveling down your throat into your belly,
The comfort of it.
This is what presence tastes like.
This is what it feels like to be here,
Fully alive to this moment.
As you hold this cup,
You feel yourself holding this entire day with the same care,
The same attention,
The same presence.
The day is not your enemy.
The day is not something to get through or to survive.
The day is simply here,
Like this cup,
Offered to you.
And you have a choice about how you receive it.
Imagine yourself moving through today the way you drink your morning coffee,
With presence,
With attention,
With small moments of savoring,
With pauses,
With breath,
Not rushing,
Not numbing,
Not just enduring,
But actually being here for your own life.
See yourself in your mind's eye,
Creating this quality of presence within you,
Meeting whatever comes,
Difficult or delightful,
With the same grounded awareness,
Returning again and again to your breath,
To your body,
To this aliveness.
Bring your sankalpa back now,
The intention you set at the beginning,
And repeat it silently three times,
Drinking it in like the last sip from your cup.
Let it be part of you,
Something you carry in your cells,
In your consciousness,
In your choices through the day.
This is your anchor.
This is what you remember when you forget.
This is what you return to when you get lost.
It's time to transition from this pause into action,
From stillness into movement,
From this being into doing.
But you don't have to leave this presence behind.
Take it with you.
Finding some gentle movement,
Wiggle your fingers and toes,
Maybe stretch your arms overhead,
And take your time,
Slowly exiting your practice.
When you do arrive seated again,
Place your hands on your heart.
I am here.
I am ready.
I am present to this day.
The day begins and you are ready.
Namaste.
