Welcome.
To your sleep meditation.
Foclear Vision.
Settle into your bed.
And now let your body find the position it has been waiting for all day.
Feel the mattress meet your back.
Your shoulders.
The backs of your legs.
Let the surface beneath you.
Take your full weight.
So your muscles have nothing left to hold.
Breathe in slowly through your nose.
And let the breath out through softly parted lips.
Again with this next exhale.
Feel your jaw loosen.
And your tongue rests low in your mouth.
Feel the small space between your eyebrows soften and go smooth.
Perhaps tonight you came here with something you want to know.
Maybe it is a question you have carried for weeks,
Turning it over.
Waiting for it to make sense.
Maybe it is quieter than that.
A feeling that there is something close to you,
Near enough to sense,
But not yet near enough to see.
Bring that question to mind now.
You do not need words for it.
Just a feeling is enough.
Here is what is different about tonight.
The answer is already moving towards you.
Your only work is to become the one.
Who receives it.
To open your hands.
And let what you have been seeking come to meet you.
Feel your breath,
Slow on its own now.
Each one a little deeper than the last.
Each one carrying you further down into the bed.
Your body grows heavy and warm.
Your thoughts begin to lose their edges.
And dissolve into the dark behind your closed,
Beautiful eyes.
Something is already on its way to you.
You will feel it.
Before you understand it.
And all you need to do tonight is to stay soft.
Stay open.
And let it arrive.
Turn your palms upward now.
Letting the backs of your hands rest against the bed.
This small movement tells your body what kind of night this is.
Open hands,
Receive.
Open hands,
Wait.
Without grasping.
Breathe down into your belly.
And feel it rise.
As it falls,
Feel the space inside your chest grow wider,
Hollow and clear.
Like a room with the windows thrown open.
And the air moving freely through.
There might be so much you have been carrying without noticing.
The small worries,
The half-finished thoughts.
The weight of being the one who had to figure it all out.
Let your next exhale pour all of it down.
Through your back.
And into the bed.
Empty out a little more.
Feel your throat soften.
Feel the muscles around your eyes.
Let go of their watching.
With every breath.
More space opens inside you.
And that space is not lonely.
It is the quiet of a cup before it is filled.
The stillness of a glass held out and waiting.
Notice the gentle pull of it.
The emptier you become.
The more you can sense something gathering.
At the edge of your awareness.
Close.
Patient.
Drawing mirror.
You don't have to reach for it.
The reaching is over.
Tonight you are the one who opens.
And what you have been wanting knows exactly where to find you.
Feel your hands resting open and warm.
Feel the soft hollow in your chest.
Feel how ready you have become without doing anything at all.
And as you rest here,
Emptied and open.
The air around you begins to change.
And grows warmer against your skin.
And softer.
Carrying a faint sweetness you have not smelled in a long time.
Somewhere just beyond your closed eyes.
A place is waiting for you.
Let it come into view.
The warmth settles around your bare feet first.
You are standing on a soft,
Dark soil.
Still holding the heat of a sun that set hours ago.
It gives a little beneath you.
Cool underneath.
Warm on top.
And the give of it is so welcoming.
That you sink your toes in.
And feel held by the ground.
It is night here.
What you can see.
The darkness is deep blue black on the hour after dusk.
And the air carries the green smell of leaves that have been breathing all day.
And are only now.
Releasing what they held.
Somewhere close.
Flowers that open only after dark are letting out their sweetness in slow waves.
You feel it move across your face.
All around you.
Broad leaves rise on tall stems.
Wider than your open arms.
Carving upward at their edges.
Like cupped hands held out to the sky.
They are everywhere.
A whole field of them.
Patient and still.
And every one of them is empty.
Waiting.
You understand without being told.
That this is what they are for.
You walk forward.
And let the leaves pour gently around you.
Brushing your arms.
Leaving a faint coolness where they touch.
At the center of the field.
One leaf stands apart from the rest.
It is broader than the others.
Its surface glistening faintly.
Its curve deeper.
As though it has been shaped over a long time to hold something precious.
You come to stand before it.
It is exactly at the height of your open hands.
There is a stillness here.
That has weight to it.
The particular quiet of a place that is listening.
The air holds its breath alongside you.
Something is about to be given.
Feel the whole garden lean towards you.
Attentive and ready.
All that remains.
Is for you to ask.
Bring your question forward now.
Let it rise from that soft hollow in your chest,
The one you opened earlier.
You do not need to speak it.
Simply hold it the way you would hold a held breath,
Full and present.
And turn it toward the leaves.
Ask.
Let the question move out of you on your next slow exhale.
Breathe silently into the still air above the leaf.
Whatever it is,
You came here to know.
Ask it now.
Simply.
The way you would ask someone.
You trust completely.
And now,
Let it go.
The leaf receives your breath.
The way still water receives a single falling petal.
A faint tremor moves across its surface.
The whole curve of it,
Shivering once and then going smooth again.
Feel the garden draw closer around you.
The sweetness in the air grows thicker.
Now,
In the center of the leaf,
Something begins to gather.
At first,
It is only a soft glow.
Rising up through the green.
As though the leaf is remembering life.
See the glow deepen.
Take on edges.
Take on shape.
And slowly.
An image forms within the curve of the leaf.
Resting there.
As gently as you do.
Look at what has appeared.
You don't have to name it or reach to explain it.
Just let your eyes rest on it.
And let your body respond before your mind can.
There may be a warmth that travels through your chest.
There may be a quiet catch in your throat.
The particular ache of seeing something you had almost forgotten you were waiting for.
You know this.
Some part of you has always known this.
The recognition arrives before the understanding.
And that recognition is completely enough.
So stay with that image.
Let it settle into you.
Feel how true it is.
And as you hold it The leaf trembles once more.
There is something else coming.
This was only the first of what the garden has for you tonight.
As the image fades softly back into the green.
The leaf does not empty.
At its center.
Where the glow had gathered.
A single drop begins to form.
See it rise slowly out of the leaf.
Round and full.
Holding the deep blue black of the night sky inside it.
A B.
Of living do.
No larger than a berry.
Warm rather than cool.
With a faint pulse of light moving through it like a slow heartbeat.
The leaf tilts towards you.
The way a hand offers something it has carried a long time.
The drop rolls gently to the edge.
And waits there.
Trembling just above your open palms.
Cup your hands and receive it.
It falls into your palms with the softest weight.
Warmer than your own skin.
Feel it pulse there.
Alive and patient.
And now it begins to sing.
Not falling,
But absorbing.
Soaking up through the skin of your hands.
Traveling warm,
Up your wrists and your arms.
And moving towards the center of your chest.
Where it makes its home.
Feel it settle behind your breastbone.
Glowing low and steady.
As it does.
Feel how something inside you grows quieter and more awake at the same time.
The space between your eyebrows softens and opens.
Sensitive now.
Like skin uncovered to a gentle breeze.
Your chest feels more spacious.
More porous.
As though it can sense the mood of a room.
Before a word is spoken.
This is the second gift.
Not an answer,
But the way of receiving answers.
So from this night forward,
Knowing will reach you more easily.
In the quiet moments before sleep.
And the feeling that arrives before the reason.
And the small shore pull you feel toward what is right for you.
Feel it humming gently in your chest.
Let it grow warm and slow.
And let that warmth begin to spread.
Loosening your limbs.
Drawing you down.
Softening the edges of the garden around you.
The garden begins to soften now.
Its edges blurring into the warm dark.
The broad leaves lower around you.
Settling back into stillness.
Their work is done.
You let yourself sink down onto the warm soil.
And feel how it receives your whole body.
The way the leaf received the breath of your question.
Feel the warmth still glowing low behind your breastbone.
Steady as a glowing fire.
It does not need your attention anymore.
It will keep its own quiet watch while you rest.
Your breath slows.
The sweetness in the air grows faint and distant.
The soil beneath you and the bed beneath you.
Become the same warm ground.
Holding all of your weight.
Asking nothing of you.
Feel how heavy your arms have become.
Feel your legs grow long and loose.
Your face is soft.
Your hands rest open and easy at your sides.
There is nowhere else to be denied.
The garden dissolves gently into the dark behind your eyes.
And the dark becomes the soft black of sleep.
Moving towards you.
Let it come.
Let your breath carry you down.
Slow and warm.
Deeper with each one.
Rest now.
Sleep well,
Sweet soul.
