Welcome.
To begin,
I invite you to settle into a comfortable position.
You might be sitting or lying down,
Whatever feels best for you today.
And choose a posture that allows your body to be supported without effort.
Take a few moments to adjust if needed.
And when you're ready,
Allow the eyes to close or soften the gaze.
Let's start with a slow breath in and a long unforced breath out.
Again,
Inhaling gently,
Exhaling fully.
There's nothing you need to accomplish in today's meditation.
Nothing to understand,
Nothing to improve.
There is just this moment.
And you might notice how quickly the mind wants to do something,
To focus,
To fix,
To get it right.
And that impulse to do is not a problem.
It's simply a habit,
A deeply learned movement of attention.
For now,
See if you can give yourself permission to step out of that habit.
Just for these few minutes,
Bring your attention to the body.
Not scanning,
Not analyzing.
Just noticing that you are here,
Breathing,
Alive.
Feel the simple sensations of contact,
The weight of the body,
The temperature of the air,
The quiet movement of breath.
And gently introduce this idea,
What if nothing is wrong right now?
That's not a thought you have to convince yourself of.
Instead,
It's a question to feel into.
What if nothing is wrong right now?
Notice what happens in the body when you hear that.
Perhaps a softening.
Perhaps resistance.
Perhaps relief.
Whatever arises is welcome.
Much of our inner life is organized around a subtle sense of deficiency.
As if something essential is missing.
And once it's fixed or healed or resolved,
Then we can rest.
But what if rest doesn't come after fixing?
What if rest comes before?
See if you can let go of the project of becoming.
Even briefly.
No better version.
No future self.
Just you,
Here.
Notice the breath again.
Not changing it.
Not deepening it.
Just allowing it to move.
You might notice the mind offering commentary.
Stories about what this means.
What you should be doing instead.
And that's okay.
You don't need to follow these thoughts.
Just let them pass like weather.
Return again and again to the felt sense of being here.
Without agenda.
Without evaluation.
There is a quiet dignity in this moment.
Nothing spectacular.
Nothing dramatic.
Just presence.
See if you can feel the difference between trying to relax and allowing yourself to stop trying.
If effort shows up,
Notice it.
If it softens,
Notice that too.
No preference.
Let the jaw drop.
Let the jaw unclench.
Let the belly move freely with the breath.
And you may notice a subtle fear beneath stillness.
As if without striving something might be lost.
If that's there,
Meet it gently.
Stillness does not erase you.
Rest does not make you disappear.
There is a part of you that exists before improvement.
Before healing.
Before self-work.
A part of you that does not need to earn its place.
Let yourself sense that part now.
Not as an image.
But as a quiet presence.
For a few moments.
Rest here.
No direction.
No destination.
No fixing.
If the mind drifts,
Simply come back to the feeling of nothing being wrong.
Again and again.
This doesn't mean nothing ever needs attention.
It simply means right now you're allowed to be as you are.
And let that permission land in your body,
In your breath,
In your nervous system.
As we begin to come toward a close,
Notice if there's any subtle shift.
Even a small one.
Perhaps more space.
Perhaps less urgency.
Perhaps a quiet relief.
Take a slightly deeper breath in.
And let it go slowly.
Begin to invite gentle movement back into the body.
Wiggling the fingers and toes.
Rolling the shoulders.
Stretching if that feels good.
And when you're ready,
Allow the eyes to open.
Carrying with you this simple reminder.
You don't have to fix yourself in order to rest.
And sometimes nothing being wrong is enough.
