Speaker 1: The shelves fade, the lamps dim, the chair dissolves into
Speaker 1: the feeling of being held. The dream becomes the sense
Speaker 1: of being in a place that is vast and quiet
Speaker 1: and kind. You do not need to open the closed ones.
Speaker 1: You do not need to enter the open ones. You
Speaker 1: only need to walk the hallway. You only need to
Speaker 1: feel the wood under your feet, feel the light on
Speaker 1: your face, feel the quiet of the house. You walk.
Speaker 1: Your footsteps echo softly. The echo is gentle. You put
Speaker 1: your hand on the knob, you turn it. The door
Speaker 1: swings inward on silent hinges. Beyond the door is the
Speaker 1: room of rest. The room has been waiting for you.
Speaker 1: The room has always been waiting for you, even on
Speaker 1: the days you forgot it existed, even on the days
Speaker 1: you told yourself you did not have time to enter.
Speaker 1: But tonight you have time. Tonight you are stepping through Tonight.
Speaker 1: They can do nothing. Let your attention return to your chest.
Speaker 1: Feel your chest rise, feel your chest fall, Feel the
Speaker 1: rhythm of your breathing. Do not change the rhythm, just
Speaker 1: notice it. Notice how the breath comes in, Notice how
Speaker 1: the breath goes out. Notice the small paws between That
Speaker 1: pause is where peace lives. Feel your heart beating inside
Speaker 1: your chest, feel it doing its work. The dark is
Speaker 1: the kind of dark that wraps itself around you like
Speaker 1: a heavy blanket. You can see if you look the
Speaker 1: faintest suggestion of trees at the edge of the property.
Speaker 1: The trees are still. The trees are sleeping too. There
Speaker 1: is a clock in the room. The clock is not ticking.
Speaker 1: The clock is silent. Tonight time does not need to
Speaker 1: be measured. Tonight time will pass on its own without
Speaker 1: any help from us. The night is kind. Sleep now sleep.
Speaker 1: End of Week one Master Script The Art of Stillness,
Speaker 1: seven thousand, five hundred words, thirty minutes, spoken at two
Speaker 1: hundred and fifty w pm meditative pace. In this house,
Speaker 1: you can simply walk the hallway, look through the doors,
Speaker 1: rest your forehead against the window, and feel the cool
Speaker 1: glass and the golden light. The house softens, the hallway fades,
Speaker 1: The doors close one by one gently, the way doors close.
Speaker 1: In a dream, the window dissolves, the glass becomes air,
Speaker 1: the light becomes memory. The dream is over, but the
Speaker 1: feeling of the dream remains in the pause. There is stillness.
Speaker 1: In the stillness, there is rest.
Speaker 2: Breathe in.
Speaker 1: Breathe out. The breath is.
Speaker 2: Doing the work now. The breath does not need your help.
Speaker 2: The breath knows the way to sleep. The breath has
Speaker 2: known since you were born. Trust the breath, Follow the breath,
Speaker 2: Let the breath carry you.
Speaker 1: You are already arriving at rest. You can feel it,
Speaker 1: can't you That small softening behind your eyes, The way
Speaker 1: your shoulders have already begun to drift lower on your back.
Speaker 1: The slow, almost imperceptible deepening of your breath. That is
Speaker 1: your body telling you something it has always known. That
Speaker 1: rest is not something you earn. Rest is something you allow.
Speaker 1: So allow it right here, right now. Your feet sink
Speaker 1: slightly into it. As you walk. You read, chuck and
Speaker 1: pull a book from a shelf. The book is small.
Speaker 1: The book is bound in soft brown leather. The title
Speaker 1: on the spine is in gold, but you cannot read
Speaker 1: the language. You open the book. The pages are thin,
Speaker 1: the pages are creamy. The pages are filled with words
Speaker 1: in a script you do not know. But you do
Speaker 1: not need to know the words. The body is doing
Speaker 1: its work. The body knows how to rest. The body
Speaker 1: is resting right now. You are resting, right now. Let
Speaker 1: you mind find a number, any number, let it be twenty.
Speaker 1: Breathe in, and as you breathe out, say the number
Speaker 1: to yourself slowly. Twenty breathe in, breathe out. Nineteen. Let
Speaker 1: the number carry you down. Each breath a number lower,
Speaker 1: each breath a step closer to rest eighteen seventeen sixteen.
Speaker 1: Do not think about the numbers. Just let them pass.
Speaker 1: Let them be the rhythm of your breath. The air
Speaker 1: smells of green things, of earth, of leaf of flower,
Speaker 1: not strongly, just gently, the way a garden smells at
Speaker 1: the end of a long day. There is water nearby.
Speaker 1: You can hear it. The sound is small, The sound
Speaker 1: is soft. It is the sound of water moving over stones.
Speaker 1: It is the sound of a stream you cannot see.
Speaker 1: The sound follows you as you walk. The sound keeps
Speaker 1: you company. They have been halting expressions all day, surprise, attention, worry, laughter.
Speaker 1: Tonight they are invited to do nothing at all. Let
Speaker 1: the muscles around your eyes soften, Let the small muscles
Speaker 1: of your temples soften, Let your jaw soften.