Good morning,
And welcome.
You don't have to organize your thoughts.
You don't have to quiet the mind,
Just sit and let your thoughts settle themselves.
This is not about emptying your head,
It's about watching the swirl,
Without getting pulled in.
So,
Begin by breathing in,
Slowly,
And then breathing out,
Even slower.
So feel your body,
Wherever it touches the ground or chair,
And let that contact remind you you're here,
And not inside your thoughts.
So now,
Imagine that in front of you,
There sits a large,
Clear glass jar.
It's open at the top,
And inside it are hundreds of tiny slips of paper.
Each one holding a thought you've had today.
They are not you,
They are just visitors,
Neutral,
Impersonal,
Fluttering ideas caught in motion.
And now,
As you inhale,
See a few thoughts float upward inside the jar,
Stirred only by your breath.
Maybe it's a worry,
Maybe a to-do list,
Or even an old memory.
And exhale,
And see them slowly drift downward again.
They settle gently onto the bottom.
So let each breath be the wind that lifts and lowers them.
You are not reading them,
You're not analyzing them,
You're simply observing them all.
They're in motion.
So inhale and rise,
And exhale and settle.
And now,
Bring your awareness to your hands.
Feel them resting.
Open or curl,
This is your first zone of return.
When thoughts swirl,
The body steadies.
Now feel the weight of your feet,
Where they press into the floor.
That's your second zone of return.
Now listen,
Listen for the faintest sound in the room.
A bird,
A hum,
A distant movement.
And that's your third zone,
Hands,
Feet,
Sound.
You now have a compass,
You now have an anchor.
If any thought is especially loud,
Don't fight it,
Don't fight it at all.
And instead,
Imagine placing it in a small silver capsule.
And then turn the lid closed,
And setting it beside the jar.
And say gently in your mind,
I will return to you if needed,
But not now.
Your thoughts are not the problem,
It's how tightly you grip them.
And today,
You practice loosening your hand.
So take one final breath,
And watch the slips of paper inside the jar.
Now they lie still,
Settled,
Soft,
Like snow in a globe.
They haven't vanished,
But they no longer own the moment.
So when you're ready,
Open your eyes now,
Let the room come back.
And let the jar stay behind,
For whenever you need it again.
Namaste.
