Find a comfortable position and let yourself arrive.
Your body here,
Your breath here,
And your heart.
Imagine yourself in a wide open field.
The air is gentle,
The sky soft with light.
Before you,
The ground stretches wide and dark,
A bed of soil waiting to hold life.
This is no ordinary soil.
It's rich,
Nourishing,
And alive with quiet promise.
In your hands,
You notice a handful of small seeds.
Each seed carries the beginning of love,
The hope of connection,
The need for belonging,
The yearning to grow and be seen.
You kneel and press one seed into the earth.
The soil welcomes it without hesitation.
The seed is not judged,
It is not hurried.
It is simply held,
Protected,
Supported,
Embraced by the ground beneath.
This is emotional safety.
The soil is trust.
The soil is steady.
The soil is the quiet assurance that when the rain falls and the sun shifts,
The ground will still be here,
Offering shelter and stability.
Now imagine the seed sinking deeper into the soil.
Feel what it feels.
Darkness,
Yes,
But also warmth.
A darkness that comforts rather than frightens.
A place where roots can reach without fear of breaking,
Without fear of being torn away.
Safety and love feels like this.
A foundation so steady that growth is inevitable.
Trust becomes the water that softens hard shells.
Predictability becomes the sunlight returning again and again,
Never forgetting to rise.
And safety itself hums beneath it all.
Whispering,
You are safe here.
You belong here.
You are free to grow at your own pace.
Let your breath follow the rhythm of this growth.
Inhale,
Drawing in nourishment,
Drawing in stability.
Exhale,
Settling deeper into the soil that holds you.
Again,
Inhale,
Trust.
Exhale,
Rest.
With every breath,
Feel your own roots spreading gently,
Silently into the ground.
Each root is a strand of trust.
Each root is a thread of connection.
Each root is a promise.
You are not going anywhere.
And neither is the soil that holds you.
Stay here for a few more breaths.
As the seed,
As the soil,
As the love that is both planted and grown.
And when you're ready,
Begin to return to this moment.
Carrying with you the knowing that safety is not weakness.
It's the strongest foundation love can ever have.
Love,
Like any seed,
Needs soil that is steady.
Soil that is kind.
And soil that says,
Grow,
Because you are safe.
As you find yourself back in the field of soil,
Where seeds are planted deep,
Around you clouds begin to gather,
Gentle and full.
A drop of water falls.
Then another.
Soon a steady rain begins.
Not harsh.
Not overwhelming.
But consistent.
Reliable.
This is trust.
Water that returns again and again.
Never failing.
Never forgetting.
Not a flood that drowns.
But a drought that abandons.
Simply present.
Each drop sinks into the soil,
Finding the seed.
The seed softens.
It opens.
Because it knows it will not be left thirsty.
Breathe in as if drawing in this water.
Breathe out as if releasing into it.
Trust flows like this.
It's quiet.
Steady.
Life-giving.
As you sit here,
Imagine all the places in your life where trust has felt like water.
A friend who showed up when they said that they would.
A loved one who kept your secrets safe.
A moment when your own body surprised you by carrying you through.
Let these memories water the roots of your own heart.
Let trust be a stream.
Flowing through you,
Reminding you that love does not need to be forced.
It only needs to be nourished.
Stay here for a few more breaths.
Knowing that just as water shapes the earth,
Trust shapes love.
Return again to the garden.
The soil is rich.
The roots are watered.
And now the sky brightens.
And the sun begins to rise.
This sunlight is not blinding.
It doesn't scorch.
It's clear and steady.
Offering warmth.
Offering direction.
The plants in this field lean toward the light.
Each in their own way.
None are forced to be the same shape.
Each follows the sun in a way that is right for them.
This is what healthy boundaries feel like.
Not walls that keep love out.
But light that shows where growth can happen.
A boundary is warmth with clarity.
Saying,
This is where I end.
And this is where I can meet you.
Feel the sunlight now on your own body.
Across your face.
Your chest.
Your arms.
Notice how it nourishes without taking.
Notice how it invites you to grow upward.
Not by pushing.
But by simply shining.
Breathe in this sunlight as strength.
Breathe out as openness.
Boundaries like light are not harsh.
They are the energy that makes growth possible.
Rest here for a few moments in the glow.
Remembering that healthy love always includes this balance.
Love that holds.
Water that nourishes.
And sunlight that guides.
