And when you are ready,
Very gently paying attention to the present moment.
Noticing some sounds around you inside your room or outside your room.
And perhaps also acknowledging some thoughts in your mind.
Any body sensations.
Facial expressions.
Any emotions that may arise with your thoughts and body sensations.
We are not changing anything.
Just very simply noticing what is happening at this moment.
Right here,
Right now.
And at a certain point,
Narrowing your attention to your anchor.
It can be your breath.
And it can also be your feet,
Your sitting point,
Or even your hands.
So choosing an anchor that can stabilize yourself.
And really being with your anchor and savoring it,
Seeing if it's okay to feel a sense of connection and steadiness.
And when you are ready,
Expanding your attention to your whole body and feeling the space your body takes up,
Your head,
Your back,
Thighs,
Feet.
Each part is becoming the one.
The whole body is sitting here and breathing a sense of openness and spaciousness.
And I'm going to read a poem to you and you can choose to stay with your anchor or keep a connection with your body as you listen to it.
The summer's day,
Mary Oliver Who made the world,
Who made the swan and the black bear,
Who made the grasshopper,
This grasshopper I mean.
The one who has flung herself out of the grass,
The one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
Who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down,
Who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she slaps her wings open and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention,
How to fall down into the grass,
How to kneel in the grass,
How to be idle and blessed,
How to scroll through the fields,
Which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last until soon?
Tell me what is it you are planning to do with your own wild and precious life?
