Beloved.
Close your eyes now.
And allow the day to come to a quiet end.
Right here,
Right now.
You do not need to solve.
Anything.
This is a time.
You can give your whole existence.
Back to the body.
For it knows best how to rest.
And recuperate.
Without any involvement from.
The narrative self.
So give yourself permission to just be here.
Knowing no problem.
Needs to be tackled right now.
In that arrested body-mind.
Like a rested glass of water will bring with it much clarity.
And perspective.
Right now all that is being asked of you.
Is your willingness to be here.
Just as you are Allow the peace.
That has been quietly residing unnoticed in the background of your experience.
To come forth and seep through you.
Let the silence,
Where all thought and sensation arise from,
And fall away into.
Meet you from the inside out.
Feel this quietude.
Filling up.
Every cell that makes up this body-mind.
The deepest shape of you.
Beneath the day that has now passed.
Is silent.
Make no distance between stillness and your breath.
No separation between.
This wordless now and your body.
They are already.
In an eternal embrace.
So just gently,
Feel into what is here as one tender movement.
I'd like you to imagine a scene slowly appearing in your mind now.
You're standing in a meadow.
That stretches wide out before you.
Ahead in the distance.
There is a tall,
Mothering mountain.
Silhouetted against the setting sun.
Evening.
And the light is glazing everything.
In its honeyed glow.
The bleached,
Tall grass bends softly in the wind.
Revealing the occasional flash of wild flower head.
You feel the warmth.
Of the fading light on your face.
Turning into a subtle flush of coolness.
As the mountain's shadow spreads across the grassland.
You can smell wild lavender.
Pumpeting rosemary and sweet bread.
The kind of scent that comes.
From a sunflower's face.
Baked all day in the sun.
You feel imbued.
With a sense of ease and protection.
The presence of the mountain.
Is undeniably consoling.
Risen from Earth's imperceptible time.
Stone folded against stone,
The seabed shouldering its way skyward.
She offers a wisdom.
Your body somehow remembers as its own.
You feel small here.
Part of something bigger.
Richer.
More true than the noise of the topside world.
You slowly begin to walk through the tall grass,
Noticing in the distance a faint trickling of water.
Some fluid cleft making its way through the wilderness here.
Replenishing life along the way,
Like a vital artery.
As you will.
You notice a beautiful weeping willow tree ahead.
Its slender,
Leafy garlands catch the last of the sun.
Flashing from silver to olive green.
Their movement like a shoal of fish swirling in a sun-spangled current.
The willow is hushing the meadow to sleep.
With its rich sowing,
And you feel this inside your body too.
This call to quieten.
This call to come home,
To rest.
To end where you begin.
As you arrive at the tree,
The sun sets deep beyond the mountain.
You notice there is a deep,
Ladle-shaped indent in the ground.
At the foot of the willow tree.
And it is filled with heavy quilts.
And pillows.
The tree's canopy hangs like a sparse curtain around the secluded,
Earthy bed.
Inviting you to rest upon the ground as you sit down on the soft bedding.
You take a moment here.
To observe the scenery and really let the whole of it reach you.
The variety of scents and sounds the effortless nature of simply being here with what is.
If thoughts come up.
If the doing and solving mind finds its way to you,
Even here.
See it no different to the cloud slowly drifting past,
Sometimes thick and white.
Sometimes transparent enough for the moon to slip between.
Nothing is unwanted here.
Everything belongs.
Aches and pains become bolder,
Smoothed over by the water.
Heartache becomes thorny hedgerows where wrens take shelter.
Grief can linger in the sky like a bird on the wind a little longer Everything has its place in the wilder landscape of your body.
You place yourself now in a comfortable position.
Covering yourself with the warmth and the weight of the quilted blankets.
You messle in here just like a deer would.
Just like a child would.
And you listen to the deep hush of the tree that shelters you There is a sense of something ancient here.
Something untold by human history.
A belonging far greater than the individual life.
But to life itself with something.
Eternally continuous.
Nothing feels lost here.
Or like anything can ever become,
A nothing.
It is all a something continually becoming.
As something else.
Feel how the ground is constant here It never wavers in its embrace.
You're safe to be yourself here.
See to recognize what has always been holding you safe to let things come and go.
To release the grip on movement.
And instead fall back into the stillness.
You can surrender a little more now.
Knowing you are held by a fierce love gravity has for your body.
Knowing rest itself is clarity.
Knowing the mind can go on,
Even in its restless shape.
Feeling your way deeper.
And deeper into the silence beneath it all.
You and the silence are not two.
You and the mountain our shape.
By the same source.
Guided.
By the same intelligence that knows how to nurture itself.
Protected by a living relationship.
With the universe that cannot ever be severed.
Soften your breath Extend your exhale Loosen your belly let your heart space become tender undefended by the shoulders knowing sleep is safe.
It's protective.
That's the body's way of showing you how held you are,
Even in your absence.
How you can step away for a moment.
As the intelligence within you keeps functioning.
Keeps replenishing.
Keeps healing.
You don't need to be a part of this.
Or manage it.
Or figure it out.
You can just rest.
And let the listening carry you deeper.
And deeper into peace.
You can let go now.
Nestle in,
Curl up find your original shape.
Breathe slow.
Let go.
Let the listening carry you.
Let the mountain protect you.
Let relationship hold you.
It's okay to let yourself rest Nothing needs solving right now.
Everything belongs here.
Nothing is out of place.
Nothing needs fixing.
Just like it is in the wild.
Soften into gravity.
Into your own body.
Gently give more of yourself to the ground.
You and the universe.
Are in a seamless relationship.
Nothing.
Is ever lost.
Crickets carry you home.
Wild flowers dancing carry you home.
The moon and all her stars carry you home.
The mountain is awake.
And watching over you.
As it has done for eons.
Silence is always here.
Stillness.
Is always present.
You can lean into it now.
All parts of you can rest.
In the healing quality of stillness.
You Your belonging is not.
Contingent on doing.
And on being.
Your body is a wild landscape.
Everything belongs.
And is being rewilded through your surrender.
You can let go now.
It's okay to be at peace.
You don't need to earn it.
It's yours already.
You You can stop.
Be efforting now.
Stop the selfing.
The solving.
A fixing.
The stories.
They can become feathers on the wind.
Leaves drifting down the stream.
Compost.
For something else to grow.
Silence is safe.
It is your original voice.
It is the key.
That all life sings to.
It's okay to fall into sound.
Into sleep.
Into silence.
You are safe.
And all is welcome here.
You you Even these words can begin to fade into silence now.
Becoming softer.
More distant.
Until they are no longer need.
Until.
.
.
