Speaker 1: Welcome to your quiet moment. This is the deep dive
Speaker 1: for Tuesday Evening, a longer practice dedicated to one intention tonight.
Speaker 1: That intention is releasing anxiety through the breath. You do
Speaker 1: not need to know how to meditate. You do not
Speaker 1: need to have meditated before. You do not need any
Speaker 1: special equipment, any candle, any cushion, any belief. You only
Speaker 1: need to show up and breathe. The next forty five
Speaker 1: minutes are yours. There is nowhere else it to be.
Speaker 1: There is nothing else you have to do. Find a
Speaker 1: place where you can sit or lie down without being disturbed.
Speaker 1: If you are sitting, let your back be supported. If
Speaker 1: you are lying down, let your arms rest loose at
Speaker 1: your sides, palms turned upward. Let the room grow soft
Speaker 1: around you. Dim the lights if you can loosen any
Speaker 1: clothing that holds you tight, especially around the waist, the chest,
Speaker 1: the throat. Place one hand on your chest and one
Speaker 1: on your belly if that feels comfortable, and feel the
Speaker 1: slow rise and fall that is already happening inside you.
Speaker 1: There is nothing to fix and nowhere to be. The
Speaker 1: practice will unfold in stages like the tide. We will arrive,
Speaker 1: we will settle, we will name what we are carrying.
Speaker 1: We will breathe into it, and we will let it dissolve.
Speaker 1: Each stick has its own rhythm. Trust the rhythm. Let
Speaker 1: your breath set the pace. If your mind wanders, and
Speaker 1: it will, that is not a mistake. That is the
Speaker 1: nature of minds. The practice is the gentle returning to
Speaker 1: the breath again and again without judgment. Tonight you are
Speaker 1: not trying to stop the thoughts. Tonight you are giving
Speaker 1: the breath a louder voice than the worry. Let that
Speaker 1: voice rise, Let it lead before we begin. Take along
Speaker 1: slow breath in through your nose and release it through
Speaker 1: your mouth with a soft sigh. Let the sound empty.
Speaker 1: You take another and another. Each sigh is a small Really,
Speaker 1: each sigh is permission to put something down. Now, let
Speaker 1: the breath settle into its natural rhythm. There is no
Speaker 1: need to control it yet, simply observe. Notice the cool
Speaker 1: air entering through the nostrils. Notice the warm air leaving
Speaker 1: through the same path. Notice the brief pause at the
Speaker 1: top of the inhale, the gentle hesitation before the ex
Speaker 1: sale begins. Notice the brief pause at the bottom of
Speaker 1: the exale, The quiet space where the next breath is
Speaker 1: being prepared. Feel the weight of your body meeting the
Speaker 1: surface beneath you. Notice where you are supported, where the
Speaker 1: chair holds you, where the floor holds you, where the
Speaker 1: bend holds you. You do not have to hold yourself
Speaker 1: down tonight. The ground is doing that work. You have
Speaker 1: been holding yourself all day, holding your posture, holding your composure,
Speaker 1: holding your reactions, holding the questions you could not answer. Tonight,
Speaker 1: the holding is over. Tonight You are held. Allow your
Speaker 1: jaw to soften, Allow the small muscles around your eyes
Speaker 1: to release, Allow the space between your eyebrows to widen.
Speaker 1: Allow your shoulders to drift away from your ears, dropping
Speaker 1: by a centimeter, then another. Allow the back of your
Speaker 1: neck to lengthen, as if a soft thread were gently
Speaker 1: lifting the crown of your head towards the ceiling. Notice
Speaker 1: the small sounds in the room, the breath of the house,
Speaker 1: the hum of the world outside, the distant traffic, the refrigerator,
Speaker 1: the rain, whatever is there. These sounds are not intrusions.
Speaker 1: They are part of the soundscape of rest. They are
Speaker 1: proof that the world is still turning, that life is
Speaker 1: continuing outside the small circle of your worry. Let them
Speaker 1: pass through you like weather. Notice the temperature of the
Speaker 1: air on your skin. Notice the texture of the fabric
Speaker 1: against your body. Notice the weight of your hands. These
Speaker 1: small sensations are anchors. They bring you back to this room,
Speaker 1: to this moment, to this body. As you settle, Notice
Speaker 1: how the breath continues without any effort from you. It
Speaker 1: does not need your permission, It does not need your planning.
Speaker 1: It has been breathing you since the moment you were born,
Speaker 1: and it will continue long after this practice ends. There
Speaker 1: is a profound rest in remembering that something is taking
Speaker 1: care of you, even when you forget to take care
Speaker 1: of yourself. Now, gently bring your awareness to the body.
Speaker 1: We are going to take a slow tour, not to
Speaker 1: fix anything, but to acknowledge what is here. Anxiety often
Speaker 1: arrives as a physical event before it becomes a thought.
Speaker 1: It tightens the diaphragm, It shortens the breath, It raises
Speaker 1: the shoulders towards the years. It clenches the jaw, It
Speaker 1: knots the stomach. It lives in the body, and it
Speaker 1: can also leave through the body if we offer it.
Speaker 1: The breath begin at the top of the head. Notice
Speaker 1: the scalp, the temples, the small muscles around the ears.
Speaker 1: Notice the forehead, especially the space between the eyebrows, where
Speaker 1: we so often hold a thin line of tension. Notice
Speaker 1: the eyes, the weight of the eyelids, the small muscles
Speaker 1: that control them. Notice the jaw, Let it soften a
Speaker 1: little more. Notice the throat, the place where unsaid words live,
Speaker 1: the place where the swallow tightens when something is hard
Speaker 1: to accept. Notice the neck, the bridge between the head
Speaker 1: and the heart. Notice the shoulders, the great carriers, the
Speaker 1: place where we hold so much for so many. Notice
Speaker 1: the upper arms, Notice the elbows, Notice the forearms, and
Speaker 1: the hands. The hands are remarkable instruments. They grip, they reach,
Speaker 1: they create, they comfort, They fold in prayer. Tonight, let
Speaker 1: them rest open. Notice the chest. Notice the rhythm of
Speaker 1: the heart beneath the ribs, faithful, unhurried. Notice the upper back,
Speaker 1: the place where we brace against the world. Notice the
Speaker 1: lower back, the breage between the hips and the spine.
Speaker 1: Notice the belly, the place where we feel things before
Speaker 1: we think them. Notice the hips, where we store readiness.
Speaker 1: Notice the thighs, the knees, the calves, the ankles, and
Speaker 1: finally the feet. Take a slow breath in as you
Speaker 1: breathe out Let the whole body soften by one degree.
Speaker 1: Just one degree is enough. One degree is a beginning.
Speaker 1: Take another breath. As you breathe out, let the body
Speaker 1: soften by another degree. You are not collapsing. You are
Speaker 1: releasing your grip. There is a difference. Collapsing is what
Speaker 1: happens when we are tired. Releasing is what happens when
Speaker 1: we are ready to best tonight. You are ready. Now.
Speaker 1: We will use the breath as an anchor, a steady
Speaker 1: place to return whenever the mind wanders, and it will wander.
Speaker 1: That is not a failure. That is what minds do.
Speaker 1: The practice is the returning. The practice is the small
Speaker 1: muscle of attention that says, ah, I have drifted, and gently,
Speaker 1: without scolding, brings you back. Begin to lengthen the inhale
Speaker 1: just slightly to account of four inhale two three four,
Speaker 1: and the exhale slightly longer, to account of six exhale
Speaker 1: two three four five six. Let the ratio do its
Speaker 1: quiet work no longer. Exhale activates the parasympathetic nervous system,
Speaker 1: the branch of you that knows how to rest, the
Speaker 1: branch of you that knows how to digest, to repair,
Speaker 1: to soften. With each cycle, the body receives a small message.
Speaker 1: You are safe, you are held. You can soften. Now
Speaker 1: continue at your own pace. If four and six feels
Speaker 1: too long, try three and five. If even that feels
Speaker 1: like too much, simply breathe naturally and notice the pauses
Speaker 1: between the breaths. There is no wrong way to do this.
Speaker 1: The breath knows the way, even when you do not.
Speaker 1: As you settle into the rhythm, notice how the thoughts
Speaker 1: begin to lose their sharp edges. The story you've been
Speaker 1: telling yourself about tomorrow, the email you have not answered,
Speaker 1: the conversation you have been rehearsing in your mind, the
Speaker 1: worry you have been carrying since morning. These stories exist,
Speaker 1: but they do not need to be believed right now.
Speaker 1: The mind is a wonderful storyteller, but it is not
Speaker 1: always a reliable narrator. Tonight, the breath is the more
Speaker 1: reliable narrator. Let the breath be the truth. Let the
Speaker 1: breath tell the story of this moment, this safe, this
Speaker 1: small moment. Notice how the inhale arrives, whether or not
Speaker 1: you are ready for it. Notice how the exhale leaves,
Speaker 1: whether or not you are ready to Let it go.
Speaker 1: The breath is older than your thoughts. The breath is
Speaker 1: steadier than your moods. The breath is the great constant
Speaker 1: trust it. Bring your attention now to the crown of
Speaker 1: the head, the soft spot where the hair swirls, the
Speaker 1: place where many traditions imagine a thousand petal lotus. As
Speaker 1: you inhale, imagine the breath entering through this point like
Speaker 1: a soft rain falling from above. The breath moves down
Speaker 1: through the skull, gentle as mist. As you exhale, imagine
Speaker 1: any tension in the head dissolving like fog lifting from
Speaker 1: a meadow. The forehead softens, the temples soften, the jaw softens,
Speaker 1: the eyes so behind the closed lids. The brain itself softens,
Speaker 1: the endless chatter softening to a murmur, the murmur softening
Speaker 1: to silence. Continue for several breaths, letting the crown of
Speaker 1: the head be the doorway. With each inhale, the breath enters.
Speaker 1: With each exhale, the head releases. There is no hurry.
Speaker 1: The breath is patient, The body is patient. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to be patient with yourself. Let the breath travel
Speaker 1: down now into the face and the throat, the faces
Speaker 1: where we perform for the world. It is where we
Speaker 1: were the expressions we think we need to wear, the composure,
Speaker 1: the calm, the polite smile. Tonight we take off the mask.
Speaker 1: Let the face soften, Let the muscles around the eyes
Speaker 1: let go, Let the small muscles at the corners of
Speaker 1: the mouth release, Let the jaw drop slightly, the teeth parting,
Speaker 1: the tongue resting softly in the floor of the mouth.
Speaker 1: The throat is where words live and where unspoken words
Speaker 1: are held. As you inhale, imagine warm air moving down
Speaker 1: through the throat, like honey pouring through a narrow opening,
Speaker 1: slow and smooth. As you exhale, imagine any unsaid things dissolving,
Speaker 1: leaving the throat clear and open. If there is a
Speaker 1: tightness in the throat, a lump that has nothing to
Speaker 1: do with illness, simply breathe into it. The breath is
Speaker 1: wider than the tightness. The breath will pass around it,
Speaker 1: eventually through it. There is no need to force. There
Speaker 1: is only the breath. Now, Let the breath move into
Speaker 1: the shoulders, the great carriers. The shoulders are where so
Speaker 1: many of us hold the world, our responsibilities, our griefs
Speaker 1: our ambitions, our frustrations, our care for others. Tonight we
Speaker 1: set some of that down. As you inhale, imagine the
Speaker 1: breath entering the shoulders like a warm breeze. As you exhale,
Speaker 1: imagine the shoulders dropping a little further, sinking toward the ground.
Speaker 1: Notice the upper arms, Yeah, this, the elbows, those hinge
Speaker 1: joints that allow us to reach and embrace and pull close.
Speaker 1: Notice the forearms and the wrists. Notice the hands, the palms,
Speaker 1: the fingers. As you inhale, the breath moves through the shoulders,
Speaker 1: down the arms, into the hands. As you exhale, the
Speaker 1: hands soften, the fingers uncurl, the arms grow heavy. There
Speaker 1: is a famous meditation where you imagine your arms as
Speaker 1: hollow tubes, and with each inhale you breathe in through
Speaker 1: the arms. With each exhale, you breathe out through the arms.
Speaker 1: The breath travels through the body, not just in and
Speaker 1: out of it. Try this for a few rounds. Inhale,
Speaker 1: the breath rises up through the arms, hail. The breath
Speaker 1: flows down through the arms, out through the fingertips. The
Speaker 1: hands become soft, the shoulders become loose. The carrying is
Speaker 1: over for tonight. Bring your attention now to the chest.
Speaker 1: Place both palms there if that feels good, or simply
Speaker 1: feel the rise and fall beneath your clothing. The chest
Speaker 1: is the home of the heart, and the heart is
Speaker 1: the home of so much. Joy lives there, grief lives there,
Speaker 1: love lives there, Anxiety lives there. The chest is often
Speaker 1: where we feel the weight of the world, the heaviness
Speaker 1: of carrying the pressure of keeping going. Tonight, we offer
Speaker 1: the breath to the heart space. Imagine the breath as
Speaker 1: a soft, warm light entering through the front of the chest.
Speaker 1: As you inhale, the light fills the heart space gently,
Speaker 1: without force. As you exhale, the light softens and spreads
Speaker 1: continue for several breaths. Now, imagine the breath entering through
Speaker 1: the back of the heart, between the shoulder blades. The
Speaker 1: inhale fills the space behind the heart, the place where
Speaker 1: so much is held. The exhale releases. There are unspoken
Speaker 1: words lodged in the chest. Things we wanted to say
Speaker 1: and did not, kindnesses we did not receive, apologies we
Speaker 1: never heard. Tonight, we do not need to remember each item.
Speaker 1: We simply breathe into the room where they live. And
Speaker 1: we let the breath be enough. Breathe in, the chest
Speaker 1: opens by a millimeter, breathe out. The chest softens by
Speaker 1: another millimeter. The heart keeps its steady rhythm, faithful, unhurried,
Speaker 1: beating away in the middle of all our worry. Listen
Speaker 1: to it for a moment. That sound has been with
Speaker 1: you your whole life. It is not going anywhere. You
Speaker 1: can lean into it. Now. Let the hands drift down
Speaker 1: to the belly. The belly is the whole of the
Speaker 1: second brain, the place where we feel things before we
Speaker 1: think them. Many of us were taught to hold the
Speaker 1: belly tight, to keep it still, to look composed. We
Speaker 1: learned early that a soft belly was somehow a weak belly,
Speaker 1: and so we pulled it in day after day, year
Speaker 1: after year, until the muscles there forgot how to release. Tonight,
Speaker 1: we let them. Remember. As you inhale, allow the belly
Speaker 1: to rise gently towards your hands, like a balloon filling
Speaker 1: with warm air. As you exhale, allow it to fall
Speaker 1: back towards the spine, soft and slow. There is no
Speaker 1: need to suck it in, There is no need to
Speaker 1: hold it flat. Let it breathe the way a baby breathes,
Speaker 1: full and easy and free. Continue for several breaths, feeling
Speaker 1: the rise and fall. Notice how the lower back expands
Speaker 1: slightly with each inhale. The way the whole torso moves
Speaker 1: is one soft unit. This is belly breathing, the breathing
Speaker 1: of small children, the breathing of deep sleep, the breathing
Speaker 1: your body knew how to do before anyone told you
Speaker 1: to do it differently. Eat hail is a small act
Speaker 1: of receiving. Each exhale is a small act of letting go.
Speaker 1: Receiving and letting go over and over, the rhythm of
Speaker 1: a life that is allowed to be soft. As you
Speaker 1: breathe here, you may notice sensations, warmth, tingling, movement, even emotion.
Speaker 1: Let them be there. You are not trying to feel
Speaker 1: a particular way. You are practicing the art of allowing
Speaker 1: whatever is here to be here. If the belly feels tight,
Speaker 1: do not try to soften it by force. Simply breathe
Speaker 1: near it. The breath is patient. Eventually the belly will
Speaker 1: remember how to soften. Eventually the breath will go where
Speaker 1: the breath needs to go. Let the breath travel lower
Speaker 1: now into the hips and the lower back, The hips
Speaker 1: are the place where we store readiness, the body's preparation
Speaker 1: for action. The hips are where we hold the impulse
Speaker 1: to run, to fight, to protect, to escape. Many of
Speaker 1: us carry chronic tension here without realizing it. As you inhale,
Speaker 1: imagine the breath moving down through the pelvis, solfening the
Speaker 1: muscles on either side of the spine. As you exhale,
Speaker 1: feel the hips releasing their grip, sinking a little deeper
Speaker 1: into the surface beneath you. The lower back, that bridge
Speaker 1: between the hips and the spine is another warehouse have
Speaker 1: held tension. Breathe into it. In hell, the lower back
Speaker 1: opens by a millimeter. Exhale, it softens by another millimeter.
Speaker 1: There may be sensations here, sometimes tender, sometimes sharp, sometimes
Speaker 1: just a dull heaviness. Whatever is there, Breathe near it.
Speaker 1: The breath does not need to reach the exact spot
Speaker 1: of the pain. The breath only needs to come close
Speaker 1: enough that the body remembers it is not alone with
Speaker 1: the feeling. Continue for several breaths, allowing the lower back
Speaker 1: and hips to soften degree by degree, breath by breath.
Speaker 1: The body has been working quietly on your behalf for years.
Speaker 1: These muscles do not complain. They simply hold tonight. You
Speaker 1: are holding them back. You are saying to them, thank you.
Speaker 1: You can run. Now. Let the breath travel further down
Speaker 1: Now into the thighs, the knees, the calves, the ankles,
Speaker 1: and all the way to the soles of the feet.
Speaker 1: The legs carry us through our days. They climb stairs
Speaker 1: and chase children, and stand in queues in case in
Speaker 1: waiting rooms, and prop us up at concerts, and hold
Speaker 1: the steady through long commutes. They rarely get thanked to night.
Speaker 1: Thank them inhale, and send the breath down through the
Speaker 1: legs like warm water, like sunlight moving through clear glass.
Speaker 1: Exhil and feel the heaviness of the legs increasing, settling
Speaker 1: into the ground. Notice the thighs, those great powerful muscles
Speaker 1: that hold us upright us, the knees, those complex joints
Speaker 1: that bend in straighten a thousand times a day. Notice
Speaker 1: the calves, the shins, the ankles. Notice the feet, every
Speaker 1: small point of contact, the heel, the ball, the toes,
Speaker 1: the arches, the spaces between the toes. Feel the floor
Speaker 1: holding the feet and the feet holtling you. There is
Speaker 1: a long lineage of bodies beneath you, and a long
Speaker 1: lineage ahead of you, and tonight you are part of
Speaker 1: the link, a single link in a chain that extends
Speaker 1: back through all the generations of your family and forward
Speaker 1: through all the generations to come. Rest in the simple
Speaker 1: fact of being held by the earth. The Earth does
Speaker 1: not need anything from you right now. The Earth is
Speaker 1: content to have you here. Rest in. Now we arrive
Speaker 1: at the heart of the practice. We are going to
Speaker 1: meet the anxiety directly, not to fight it, not to
Speaker 1: argue with it, not to push it away, but to
Speaker 1: invite it in for tea. Take a breath in, and
Speaker 1: as you break out, say silently to yourself, I see you, anxiety.
Speaker 1: I know you are here. You have been with me
Speaker 1: all day, perhaps all week, perhaps longer. I am no
Speaker 1: longer running from you. Take another breath, as you breathe out,
Speaker 1: say you are welcome to sit with me. You do
Speaker 1: not have to leave. I am not asking you to leave.
Speaker 1: Take another breath as you breathe out, say but you
Speaker 1: are not the boss of me. You are a messenger.
Speaker 1: I will listen, but I will not obey every story
Speaker 1: you tell. Anxiety is a messenger. It is trying to
Speaker 1: tell you that something matters to you. It is trying
Speaker 1: to tell you that you care. But the messenger has
Speaker 1: been shouting so loudly that you can no longer hear
Speaker 1: anything else. Tonight, we lower the volume. We do not
Speaker 1: silence it. We simply bring it down to a level
Speaker 1: where we can also hear the breath, the heartbeat, the
Speaker 1: small sounds of the room, the quiet of the night.
Speaker 1: Continue breathing at your own pace. If images come, let
Speaker 1: them come. If words come, let them come. If nothing comes,
Speaker 1: that is also fine. Sometimes the anxiety shows up as
Speaker 1: a color, as a weight, sometimes as a not in
Speaker 1: the chest, sometimes as a voice in the head. Whatever
Speaker 1: shape it takes tonight, let it have its shape. You
Speaker 1: are not trying to make it disappear. You are practicing
Speaker 1: being present with it. The practice of meeting anxiety with
Speaker 1: friendliness is older than any of us. It is not
Speaker 1: about being calm. It is about being present. You can
Speaker 1: be anxious and present at the same time. You can
Speaker 1: be afraid and breathing at the same time. You can
Speaker 1: be worried and held at the same time. The breath
Speaker 1: returns you to your body. The body returns you to
Speaker 1: this moment. The moment is small enough to be bearable.
Speaker 1: Now we will spend a few minutes focused entirely on
Speaker 1: the exhale. The inhale is receiving, the exhal is releasing.
Speaker 1: Most anxiety lives in the grip of the exhale, in
Speaker 1: the held breath, in the reluctant letting go. We hold
Speaker 1: our breath when we brace. We hold our breath when
Speaker 1: we are waiting for something. We hold our breath when
Speaker 1: we are listening for bad news. So tonight we practice
Speaker 1: the opposite. Tonight, we let the breath leave. Inhale gently
Speaker 1: for account of four, exhale slowly for a count of eight.
Speaker 1: If that feels comfortable. If eight is too long, try six.
Speaker 1: If move than six is too long, simply make the
Speaker 1: exhale one or two counts longer than the inhale. The
Speaker 1: exact numbers are not the point. The point is the
Speaker 1: invitation to release. As you exhale, imagine that you are
Speaker 1: breathing out the day, the held breath in the shoulders,
Speaker 1: the unspoken words, the tension behind the eyes, the story
Speaker 1: you keep telling yourself about tomorrow, the conversation you have
Speaker 1: been rehearsing, the decision you have been postponing, the apology
Speaker 1: you have been meaning to mate the thank you you
Speaker 1: have been meaning to send. Each exal is a small farewell.
Speaker 1: Each exil is permission to put something down. Continue the
Speaker 1: practice for several rounds. Let the exhale grow longer and softer.
Speaker 1: Let the body discover that it knows how to release.
Speaker 1: There is a wisdom in the exhale that the mind
Speaker 1: does not always know. The body knows how to let go.
Speaker 1: The body does it every night when it surrenders to sleep.
Speaker 1: Tonight we borrow that wisdom. Tonight we let the body lead.
Speaker 1: If it feels right, allow the exhal to have a sound,
Speaker 1: a soft hum, a long sigh, the whispered word release.
Speaker 1: Sound is another door. The breath can carry what the
Speaker 1: body cannot hold in stillness. Sometimes the worry is so
Speaker 1: deep in the body that the breath alone cannot reach it.
Speaker 1: The sound can. The vibration can Inhale through the nose,
Speaker 1: exhale through the mouth with a long, low hum, letting
Speaker 1: the vibration move through your chest and throat. Let the
Speaker 1: sound be soft and unhurried. Let it travel down into
Speaker 1: the belly and out through the legs. Continue for as
Speaker 1: long as feels right. There is no audience. Here there
Speaker 1: is only you and the breath and the small sound
Speaker 1: that helps the release travel further. You might feel foolish
Speaker 1: at first. That is fine. Foolishness is a small price
Speaker 1: to pay for letting go. If tears come, let them come.
Speaker 1: The body has its own wisdom about what needs to leave.
Speaker 1: The breath will hold you through it, the sound will
Speaker 1: hold you through it. The room will hold you through it.
Speaker 1: You are not alone with this. You have never been
Speaker 1: alone with this. Now, let the practice become very simple.
Speaker 1: Let the breath return to its natural rhythm. Let the
Speaker 1: body be still, Let the room hold you. There is
Speaker 1: nothing to do for the next few minutes except be here.
Speaker 1: If thoughts arise, notice them the way you would notice
Speaker 1: birds landing on a branch. They come, they rest, they
Speaker 1: fly away. You are the branch, You are the sky.
Speaker 1: You are not the birds. You are also not the wind.
Speaker 1: You are the wide open space in which all of
Speaker 1: this is happening. Continue to breathe. Let the inhale be receiving,
Speaker 1: Let the exhale be releasing. Rest in the simple rhythm,
Speaker 1: Rest in the simple fact of being here, in a body,
Speaker 1: in a room, on a planet that is turning slowly
Speaker 1: through the night. You are part of something much larger
Speaker 1: than the worry. The worry is a small weather system
Speaker 1: in a vast sky. The sky is not diminished by
Speaker 1: the weather. The sky is still there, behind it, around it,
Speaker 1: beneath it are you. You are still here behind the worry,
Speaker 1: around the worry, beneath the worry. Let the worry, Let
Speaker 1: it pass, Let it pass. If it returns, let it
Speaker 1: pass again. There is no hurry, There is no deadline
Speaker 1: for inner peace. It is here now, in this breath,
Speaker 1: in this body, in this room. Rest in that knowledge.
Speaker 1: Rest in that breath. Now, gently bring a few words
Speaker 1: to mind, and let each one arrive with the breath.
Speaker 1: You do not have to believe them yet. You only
Speaker 1: have to let them land somewhere. Like seeds planted in
Speaker 1: soft soil, They will grow later tonight. We only need
Speaker 1: to plant them. As you breathe in, say silently, I
Speaker 1: am allowed to rest. As you breathe out, say silently,
Speaker 1: the world can wait. As you breathe in, say silently,
Speaker 1: my body knows how to release. As you breathe out,
Speaker 1: say silently, I am held by something larger. As you
Speaker 1: breathe in, say silently, anxiety is a wave, and I
Speaker 1: am the ocean. As you breathe out, say silently, I
Speaker 1: can let this go. As you breathe in, say silently,
Speaker 1: I trust the wisdom of my breath. As you breathe out,
Speaker 1: say silently, AM safe in this moment. As you breathe in,
Speaker 1: say silently, I do not have to solve everything tonight.
Speaker 1: As you breathe out, say silently, I am allowed to
Speaker 1: put it down. As you breathe in, say silently, the
Speaker 1: breath is enough. As you breathe out, say silently, I
Speaker 1: am enough. Continue for several more breaths, repeating the phrases
Speaker 1: that feel most true, and letting the breath carry each
Speaker 1: one deeper into the body. Notice how the words change
Speaker 1: shape as you breathe with them. Notice how the breath
Speaker 1: softens the words, and the words soften the breath. There
Speaker 1: is a quiet conversation happening between them, a conversation that
Speaker 1: has nothing to do with the mind and everything to
Speaker 1: do with the heart. As we begin to close, take
Speaker 1: a moment to offer gratitude to the breath. The breath
Speaker 1: has been with you since the first moment of your life.
Speaker 1: In the woman, the birth canal in the first cry
Speaker 1: It will be with you until the last moment of
Speaker 1: your life. It asks for nothing. It does not judge,
Speaker 1: It does not comply you to anyone else. It does
Speaker 1: not care what you have accomplished or failed to accomplish.
Speaker 1: It continues whether you are joyful or grieving, whether you
Speaker 1: are calm or afraid, whether you are awake or asleep.
Speaker 1: It is the great faithfulness. Take a breath in, and
Speaker 1: on the exale, say silently thank you. Take another breath in,
Speaker 1: and on the exale, thank you. The breath is a
Speaker 1: gift you give yourself every moment, a gift that costs
Speaker 1: nothing and changes everything. Tonight you remembered to notice it.
Speaker 1: That is enough. That is more than an some nights.
Speaker 1: The only practice we can do is to remember to
Speaker 1: notice the breath, and that is a complete practice. Tonight
Speaker 1: you did that. Tonight. You are enough. As we rest
Speaker 1: in this gratitude, let the breath grow small and quiet,
Speaker 1: almost imperceptible. The body is at rest, the mind is
Speaker 1: at rest, the heart is at rest. We have done enough.
Speaker 1: Let the breath travel even deeper now into the lower
Speaker 1: belly and the pelvic floor, the places we rarely talk about,
Speaker 1: the places we rarely breathe into the lower belly is
Speaker 1: the center of gravity for the body, the place where
Speaker 1: we hold our sense of safety, are sense of ground,
Speaker 1: our sense of belonging. As you inhale, imagine the breath
Speaker 1: filling the lower belly the way warm sand fills a bowl.
Speaker 1: As you exhale, imagine any holding here softening, melting into
Speaker 1: the support beneath you. The pelvic floor is the foundation
Speaker 1: of the body. It is the place where we hold
Speaker 1: the deepest tensions, the ones we may not even know
Speaker 1: we are holding. As you inhale, send the breath down
Speaker 1: toward this foundation, gentle, as rain falling on soft earth.
Speaker 1: As you exhale, imagine this foundation releasing, dropping, slightly, opening
Speaker 1: by a millimeter. There is no need to do anything
Speaker 1: active here. The breath alone is enough. The breath alone
Speaker 1: has been the medicine in your body has been waiting
Speaker 1: for Continue for several breaths, letting the lower belly and
Speaker 1: the foundation of the body receive the same attention you
Speaker 1: have given every other part. Nothing in you is excluded
Speaker 1: from this practice, nothing in you with left out in
Speaker 1: the cold. Now, let the breath expand to fill the
Speaker 1: entire body at once. Imagine the breath as a soft
Speaker 1: golden light that enters with each inhale, filling every cell,
Speaker 1: every corner, every hidden place. Imagine the light moving through
Speaker 1: the body the way sunlight moves through water, slowly, gently,
Speaker 1: reaching every part. As you inhale, the whole body brightens.
Speaker 1: As you exhale, the whole body softens. Continue for several breaths.
Speaker 1: Notice how the body feels as a whole, not as
Speaker 1: separate parts, but as one, soft, breathing, luminous whole. Notice
Speaker 1: how the breath moves through you without effort. Notice how
Speaker 1: the body knows how to breathe even when you are
Speaker 1: not paying attention. Notice how grateful the body is to
Speaker 1: be breathed, to be reminded of itself. Continue this whole
Speaker 1: body breathing for as long as feels right. You are
Speaker 1: not doing the breathing. The breathing is happening through you.
Speaker 1: You are the instrument. The breath is the music. The
Speaker 1: breath is the music. Let us now take an imaginary
Speaker 1: walk together, slowly, gently, to a place that feels safe.
Speaker 1: Imagine a path you have always loved, perhaps a forest trail,
Speaker 1: perhaps a beach at dawn, perhaps a quiet garden at
Speaker 1: the edge of your memory. Take a breath in, and
Speaker 1: as you breathe out, step onto the path. Take another
Speaker 1: breath and take another step. Notice the texture of the
Speaker 1: ground beneath your feet. Notice the air on your skin.
Speaker 1: Notice the colors around you, the green of leaves, the
Speaker 1: blue of water, the gold of late afternoon light. Take
Speaker 1: another breath, Take another step. As you walk, Notice that
Speaker 1: your breath is steady. Notice that your shoulders are soft.
Speaker 1: Notice that the worry is still with you, but it
Speaker 1: is walking beside you now, not leeing. Continue walking for
Speaker 1: several breaths until you arrive at a place you would
Speaker 1: like to rest. It might be a clearing, It might
Speaker 1: be a bench. It might be the edge of the water.
Speaker 1: It might be a soft patch of grass. Whatever it is,
Speaker 1: settle there. Take a long, slow breath in. Take a long,
Speaker 1: slow breath out. Notice how safe this place feels. Notice
Speaker 1: how quiet. You can return to this place whenever you
Speaker 1: need it, in meditation or in life. It is yours now.
Speaker 1: Before we close, take a moment to offer gratitude to yourself.
Speaker 1: This may feel unfamiliar. We are not off and taught
Speaker 1: to be grateful to ourselves. We are taught to be
Speaker 1: grateful to others, to teachers, to parents, to partners, to friends.
Speaker 1: But tonight, take a breath in and on the exhale,
Speaker 1: say silently thank you to yourself. Thank you for showing
Speaker 1: up to this practice. Thank you for taking an hour
Speaker 1: out of your day to be here. Thank you for
Speaker 1: breathing when you could have spent this time scrolling. Thank
Speaker 1: you for letting yourself rest when the world was asking
Speaker 1: you to produce. Thank you for being willing to meet
Speaker 1: the anxiety instead of running from it. Thank you for
Speaker 1: being willing to soften instead of bracing. Take another breath
Speaker 1: in and on the exhale, Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Speaker 1: The self is the constant companion. The self will be
Speaker 1: with you in every room you enter, in every conversation
Speaker 1: you have, in every quiet night and every loud day.
Speaker 1: The self deserves gratitude. Tonight you have offered it. Now
Speaker 1: we begin the slow return. Bring small movements back into
Speaker 1: the body. Wiggle the fingers and toes, Rotate the ankles, gently,
Speaker 1: roll the shoulders, stretch the arms overhead if that feels good,
Speaker 1: Taking along inhale as you reach, and a long exhale
Speaker 1: as you release. Take a deep breath in, insiet out, open,
Speaker 1: your eyes if they have been closed. Let the room
Speaker 1: come back in slowly, gently. There is no rush. You
Speaker 1: have been somewhere quiet, and you are bringing that quiet
Speaker 1: back with you. The anxiety you came in with may
Speaker 1: still be there, but its volume is lower. The gripe
Speaker 1: has loosened a little. The breath will continue to be
Speaker 1: with you even now, even as you stand up and
Speaker 1: reach for a glass of water and check your phone
Speaker 1: and return to the ordinary world. The breath will be there, faithful,
Speaker 1: as always, ready whenever you need to return. You might
Speaker 1: notice in the coming hours that the breath is a
Speaker 1: little easier to find than it was an hour ago.
Speaker 1: You might notice that the worry, when it returns, does
Speaker 1: not grip quite as hard. You might notice that the
Speaker 1: body remembers something from this practice, even when the mind
Speaker 1: has moved on to other things. That is how practice works.
Speaker 1: It does not always announce itself. It simply accumulates breath
Speaker 1: by breath, night by night, until one day you realize
Speaker 1: you have been carrying yourself differently. That is the gift.
Speaker 1: This is the close of the deep dive for Tuesday evening. Tonight,
Speaker 1: you practiced meeting anxiety with friendliness. You practice the longer exhale.
Speaker 1: You practiced allowing the breath to be the anchor. You
Speaker 1: practiced putting things down one breath at a time. Carry
Speaker 1: one phrase with you as you move into the rest
Speaker 1: of your evening or into sleep. The phrase is this,
Speaker 1: I can let the us go, not all of it,
Speaker 1: not forever, but this much tonight, this breath, this moment.
Speaker 1: That is the practice, that is the only practice. Thank
Speaker 1: you for spending this hour with me. Thank you for
Speaker 1: showing up. Thank you for breathing. Until tomorrow evening, Breathe well,
Speaker 1: rest well, and be gentle with yourself. Good Night.