Learning How To Breathe – Bedtime Story #3 (8 Hours)

Learning How To Breathe is the third in a series of gentle, true bedtime stories drawn from lived experience—shaped by seasons of struggle, growth, peace, and becoming.

Journaling has been my quiet companion through both the hard years and the joyful ones. These stories rise from those pages: late-night reflections, whispered hopes, and the peace that came slowly and honestly.

These stories aren’t meant to teach or fix—only to be felt.

Listen with your eyes closed. Let the day release you, and rest in the knowing that peace is possible.

Background music by my friend and fellow Insight Timer teacher, Blossom Violet, recorded LIVE during our collaboration on April 3, 2025.

And please join us in my Insight Timer group, "Ask Your Guides"—grounded, guided, and always growing.

Transcript

Learning How to Breathe. A Bedtime Story. Let's get comfortable now. Let the day loosen its grip on you. Nothing needs deciding tonight. I want to share a story with you about a season where I learned how to breathe again. It was a time when I chose a calmer life. Not an easy one, But one more real to me. The house changed. Sounds changed. And for a while, Everything felt unfamiliar. I was walking through rooms I hadn't lived in before. There were some hard years. Money was tight. Days asked for courage I didn't know I had yet. And for a while, My sons were with me every day. But then life shifted, As it sometimes does. They grew roots where they were. They made friends. They built lives that mattered to them. Letting go of what you love, Even when it's right, Can hurt in places you didn't know existed. But here's the part I want to share. Even then, There was air. There was breathing. There was lightness. There were moments when the world felt wide open again. Moments of laughter that surprised me. Moments of discovery of who I was becoming when no one was watching. I learned that peace doesn't always arrive all at once. Sometimes it comes in small doses. A walk. A conversation. A spark of curiosity about what else might be possible. And eventually, Kindness, Peace, And serenity found me. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just steady. I met someone new. Someone who treated my children with care and respect. Someone who brought back that warmth into the rooms that had known way too much tension. And that kindness stayed. And with it came a sense of home, Where I didn't have to brace myself. My boys grew. They found their own lives. And of course, Things kept unfolding, Layer by layer, Into something fuller than I could have ever imagined. So, If you're listening tonight, And you're in between chapters, If you've chosen truth over comfort, If you're still looking for your footing, Know this. Freedom doesn't always feel light. But it teaches you how to breathe. And breathing leads you slowly and surely toward peace. So, My friend, Let your body rest. You don't have to carry the world tonight. You are allowed to sleep inside the knowing. That good things can follow the hard ones. That love can return in new forms. And that life is always opening. So, Close your eyes. The night is spacious. And you are free to rest.