Speaker 1: You are here. That is enough. You have arrived, and
Speaker 1: you do not need to explain how you got here
Speaker 1: or what it took to get here. You are here now,
Speaker 1: and that is the only thing that matters. In this moment.
Speaker 1: There is a seat for you in this quiet. There
Speaker 1: is a place for you in this breath. You can
Speaker 1: arrive however you are. You can arrive with the day
Speaker 1: still clinging to your skin, with the morning still ringing
Speaker 1: in your ears, with the weight of what happened still
Speaker 1: sitting in your chest. You do not need to be
Speaker 1: different than you are to be here. You do not
Speaker 1: need to be calmer, or clearer or more settled. You
Speaker 1: only need to be present, and presence is something the
Speaker 1: body already knows how to do. You are here, you arrived.
Speaker 1: Let the room hold you the way a hand holds
Speaker 1: water gently without grasping. Let the air find you. Let
Speaker 1: the moment be what it is, which is simply this,
Speaker 1: you breathing here now. There is nothing else required of
Speaker 1: you in this minute. There is only the breath and
Speaker 1: you and the quiet that has opened up just for you.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to be here, You are allowed to
Speaker 1: take up this space. You are allowed to stop even
Speaker 1: if the day is still moving around you. You are here,
Speaker 1: and that is enough. Now, let us begin with the breath,
Speaker 1: Not the breath you are supposed to take, not the
Speaker 1: breath that will fix anything, not the breath that will
Speaker 1: make this better. Let us begin with the ordinary breath,
Speaker 1: the breath that is already happening, the breath your body
Speaker 1: has been doing without your permission all morning long. Notice it.
Speaker 1: Notice the air coming in through your nose. Notice the
Speaker 1: way it touches the inside of your nostrils. Notice the
Speaker 1: slight coolness of it, the way it arrives without being invited.
Speaker 1: Notice the paws at the top of the inhale, that
Speaker 1: tiny stillness between breathing in and breathing out. And then
Speaker 1: notice the exhale. Notice the air leaving your body. Notice
Speaker 1: the way your ribs fall, the way your belly softens,
Speaker 1: the way the air carries something out with it, something
Speaker 1: you do not need to name. This is the breath.
Speaker 1: This is the only breath you have to manage right now.
Speaker 1: The next breath will come, and the one after that,
Speaker 1: and you do not have to orchestrate any of it.
Speaker 1: The body knows, the body has always known. Let your
Speaker 1: shoulders soften. You are holding them somewhere up by your
Speaker 1: ears maybe, or maybe you have been holding them like
Speaker 1: this for so long you do not even notice anymore.
Speaker 1: Let them drop, Let the muscles release, let the bones settle.
Speaker 1: The breath does not need your shoulders to be tight.
Speaker 1: The breath only needs space, and space is something you
Speaker 1: can give right now. In this chair, in this room,
Speaker 1: in this body you are sitting in. The breath is
Speaker 1: landing in you. You are landing in the breath. Let
Speaker 1: them meet, let them find each other. This is the
Speaker 1: only arrival that matters. This is the part no Whee
Speaker 1: tells you. The breath is not something you have to do.
Speaker 1: The breath is something that is already doing, something that
Speaker 1: has been doing for you your whole life, without you
Speaker 1: having to ask. The breath does not need your management.
Speaker 1: The breath does not need your optimization. The breath is
Speaker 1: the one relationship in your life that does not ask
Speaker 1: anything of you. It does not ask you to be
Speaker 1: faster or more efficient or more productive. It does not
Speaker 1: ask you to be better than you were yesterday. It
Speaker 1: only asks that you let it in and let it out,
Speaker 1: and let it keep going. The breath holds you, not
Speaker 1: the other way around. You are not holding the breath.
Speaker 1: The breath is holding you. It has been holding you
Speaker 1: since the first moment of your life, and it will
Speaker 1: hold you until the last moment and in between. It
Speaker 1: is holding you in every single moment that you forget
Speaker 1: to notice it. Right now, the breath is holding you.
Speaker 1: You can feel it if you stop trying so hard.
Speaker 1: You can feel the air moving through you, and you
Speaker 1: can feel the space it is making, and you can
Speaker 1: feel the way your body is being supported by something
Speaker 1: larger than your to do list, larger than your anxiety,
Speaker 1: larger than the morning that has been too much. The
Speaker 1: breath is holding you. You are allowed to leave it.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to stop carrying the weight of your
Speaker 1: own breathing and let the breath carry you instead. This
Speaker 1: is the invitation. This is the only thing we are
Speaker 1: doing here. Let the breath hold you the way the
Speaker 1: room holds the sound of your voice, gently, completely, without judgment.
Speaker 1: You are held. You have always been held. You are
Speaker 1: held right now. Now. Let us look at what the
Speaker 1: morning has asked of you. You do not have to
Speaker 1: do anything with this. You do not have to solve
Speaker 1: it or fix it or make sense of it. You
Speaker 1: only have to let it be seen, just for a moment,
Speaker 1: just here, in this quiet where nothing is being asked
Speaker 1: of you except that you breathe. The morning asked things
Speaker 1: of you before you were ready. The morning asked you
Speaker 1: to be present when you were still half asleep. The
Speaker 1: morning asked you to be patient when patience was the
Speaker 1: last thing you had. The morning asked you to hold
Speaker 1: space for things that had no space in them, things
Speaker 1: that were too big, things that spilled over, things that
Speaker 1: you had to catch with your bare hands because there
Speaker 1: was no basket ready, no container prepared. The morning asked
Speaker 1: you to be kind when kindness felt impossible. The morning
Speaker 1: asked you to keep going when every cell in your
Speaker 1: body was asking to stop. The morning asked you to
Speaker 1: answer messages you did not want to answer, to sit
Speaker 1: through meetings that felt like sieges, to perform a version
Speaker 1: of yourself that was more put together than the version
Speaker 1: you actually are. The morning asked you to hold your
Speaker 1: tongue when you wanted to scream. The morning asked you
Speaker 1: to smile when your jaw was clenched so tight it ached.
Speaker 1: The morning asked you to be fine, and you were fine,
Speaker 1: or at least you performed fine, and that performance took
Speaker 1: something from you that you are a loud to notice
Speaker 1: is gone. This is what the morning asked. You do
Speaker 1: not have to carry it all. You do not have
Speaker 1: to keep holding it the way you have been holding it,
Speaker 1: tight in your chest, tight in your throat, tight in
Speaker 1: the space between your eyebrows. You can set it down,
Speaker 1: not all at once, not right now, but you can
Speaker 1: begin to let it go. The morning asked, you answered,
Speaker 1: that is enough. You do not have to keep the receipt.
Speaker 1: Now I want you to try something. I want you
Speaker 1: to let the exhale be longer than the inhale, not
Speaker 1: by much, just a little, just enough to feel the difference.
Speaker 1: Breathe in and notice how long that takes. Two seconds,
Speaker 1: three seconds, whatever it takes. And then let the exhale
Speaker 1: be one beat longer. Let the air leave your body
Speaker 1: and let it take its time. Let the ribs fall
Speaker 1: all the way, Let the belly release all the way.
Speaker 1: Let the exhale be a letting go, not a push,
Speaker 1: not a forced thing, but a slow unwinding, a long sigh,
Speaker 1: a door opening into a room that has been waiting
Speaker 1: for you. You do not have to force this, You
Speaker 1: only have to allow it. The body knows how to
Speaker 1: exhale longer than it inhales. The body knows this from sleep,
Speaker 1: from the moment you fall asleep and the breath deepens
Speaker 1: and the exhale takes over, and the nervous system finally,
Speaker 1: finally begins to settle. You are giving yourself permission to
Speaker 1: exhale longer. You are giving your nervous system the signal
Speaker 1: it has been waiting for all morning. It is safe
Speaker 1: to let go. It is safe to release. It is
Speaker 1: safe to let the air do more leaving than coming.
Speaker 1: Because what is leaving is not you. What is leaving
Speaker 1: is the residue of the morning, the stress, hormones, the tension,
Speaker 1: the bracing, the waiting, the holding. Let it go, Let
Speaker 1: the exhale carry it out. Breathe in short, simple a gathering,
Speaker 1: and then breathe out long, slow, a release. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to exhale longer than you inhale. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to let go more than you hold on. The breath
Speaker 1: knows this. Let the breath teach you. Now, we are
Speaker 1: going to let the exhale last a little longer. Not
Speaker 1: because you have to, not because it is a technique
Speaker 1: to master, but because the body knows what a longer
Speaker 1: exhale can do. The body knows you do not have
Speaker 1: to understand the nervous system for it to respond. When
Speaker 1: you breathe out a little slower, a little longer, the
Speaker 1: body receives a signal. It is an ancient signal, older
Speaker 1: than language, older than the to do list, older than
Speaker 1: anything you have ever learned in a meeting or a classroom.
Speaker 1: The signal says safety. It says you can rest now.
Speaker 1: It says the thing you are bracing for it is
Speaker 1: not here, not right now, not in this breath. So
Speaker 1: let's try it. Breathe in through the nose if that
Speaker 1: is available to you, or through the mouth, if that
Speaker 1: is what your body wants. Let the air arrive. Let
Speaker 1: it fill the space behind your ribs, the space beneath
Speaker 1: your collar bones, feel the chest rise or the belly,
Speaker 1: however your body does it. That is the right way.
Speaker 1: And now let it go slowly, not pushed, not forced.
Speaker 1: Just let the air leave like it has somewhere gentle
Speaker 1: to go. Let the exhale take its time. Let there
Speaker 1: be a small pause at the bottom when the air
Speaker 1: has gone out and the body has not yet decided
Speaker 1: to breathe in again. That pause is where the nervous
Speaker 1: system gets to rest. That pause is where you are
Speaker 1: not performing, not producing, not preparing for what's next. You
Speaker 1: are just here in the pause, in the quiet. We
Speaker 1: are going to do this a few times together. You
Speaker 1: do not have to count, You do not have to measure.
Speaker 1: Just follow the breath and let the exhale be a
Speaker 1: little slower than the inhale. That is all. Breathe in,
Speaker 1: feel it arrive and exhale. Let it go, let it
Speaker 1: go all the way and pause. Breathe in again, let
Speaker 1: it fill and exhale slower this time. Let the body
Speaker 1: lead and pause one more. Breathe in and out. The
Speaker 1: body knows how to rest. The body knows, and pause.
Speaker 1: Breathe in and out slower, soft. You do not have
Speaker 1: to earn this rest. You only have to let it
Speaker 1: in and pause, bree in and out and pause. Let
Speaker 1: us go to the hands. Now, the hands have been
Speaker 1: doing so much. The hands have been gripping, holding, carrying, reaching, typing,
Speaker 1: holding coffee cups too tight, holding phones too tight, holding
Speaker 1: steering wheels, holding yourself up, holding it all together. Let
Speaker 1: us let the hands rest, Let the hands open, let
Speaker 1: the fingers uncurl, Let the palms face upward or downward,
Speaker 1: or whatever way feels like. Release The hands do not
Speaker 1: need to be fists right now. The hands do not
Speaker 1: need to be ready for anything. The hands can just be.
Speaker 1: Hands can just hang at the ends of your arms
Speaker 1: like they have forgotten they were supposed to be doing something.
Speaker 1: Let them be heavy, Let them sink into your lap,
Speaker 1: or rest on your thighs, or fall open at your sides.
Speaker 1: However they land, Let them land without your having to
Speaker 1: arrange them. The hands know how to be still. The
Speaker 1: hands remember a time before the Morning asked things of them.
Speaker 1: The hands remember being held, being comforted, being held by
Speaker 1: someone else, or holding something soft, or simply being empty, open,
Speaker 1: available to the air. Let the hands remember that. Let
Speaker 1: the hands be the first place where the morning lets go. Now,
Speaker 1: let us go to the jaw. The jaw has been clenched.
Speaker 1: The jaw has been holding so many words, so many
Speaker 1: things you did not say, so many things you wanted
Speaker 1: to say, and swallowed so many things that sat in
Speaker 1: your mouth like stones. Let the jaw soften, Let the
Speaker 1: teeth separate, Let the lips part just slightly, Let the
Speaker 1: tongue unstick from the roof of your mouth. Let the
Speaker 1: jaw be a place where the body stops bracing. This
Speaker 1: is not a failure. This is a releasing. This is
Speaker 1: the body letting go of the thing it has been
Speaker 1: holding in place for hours. Now, let us go to
Speaker 1: the chest. The chest has been holding the breath you
Speaker 1: did not get to take. The chest has been tight maybe,
Speaker 1: or maybe it has been heaving, or maybe it has
Speaker 1: been so still it forgot it was supposed to be moving.
Speaker 1: Let the chest rise and fall without force. Let the
Speaker 1: chest be soft. Let the ribs ex band and contract
Speaker 1: in their own time. The chest is allowed to be soft,
Speaker 1: The chest is allowed to be open. The body knows.
Speaker 1: The body has been waiting for you to notice this.
Speaker 1: Now we are going to let the attention move to
Speaker 1: the hands, not to change them, not to fix them,
Speaker 1: just to notice what they have been holding. The body knows.
Speaker 1: The body has been keeping score in its own quiet language.
Speaker 1: And the hands have been carrying more than you probably realize.
Speaker 1: Picture this morning. The hands that are resting right now,
Speaker 1: they held things. They reached for the phone before your
Speaker 1: eyes were fully open. And that small gesture, that reaching,
Speaker 1: that was a hand holding the weight of every notification,
Speaker 1: every headline, every message, waiting for a response. The hands
Speaker 1: held the phone. You do not have to put it
Speaker 1: down forever, Just notice that they held it. Later, the
Speaker 1: hands held the mug, the warmth of it, the weight
Speaker 1: of it, the way the ceramic or the metal pressed
Speaker 1: into the palm. The hands held the mug, and maybe
Speaker 1: they held the coffee inside it, And maybe the coffee
Speaker 1: was the first warm thing you felt today. That matters.
Speaker 1: The hands knew that, even if you did not stop
Speaker 1: to notice. The hands held the steering wheel or the
Speaker 1: handle on the bus or the train, the grip, the tension,
Speaker 1: the way the fingers pressed down. That was the hands
Speaker 1: carrying the weight of getting somewhere, of being on time,
Speaker 1: of navigating a world that asks so much of the
Speaker 1: body in motion. The hands held the wheel, and the
Speaker 1: arms above them held the shoulders, and the shoulders held
Speaker 1: the whole tired architecture, the day so far. The hands
Speaker 1: held the door handle opening, closing, pushing through into the
Speaker 1: next room, the next conversation, the next hour. The hands
Speaker 1: held the door. The hands have been opening and closing
Speaker 1: all morning long. And that is a kind of carrying too.
Speaker 1: That is the body saying I will get you through
Speaker 1: this door, and the next one, and the next one.
Speaker 1: Even if you do not have the energy to notice,
Speaker 1: and the hands held the conversation, maybe you are turning
Speaker 1: over a specific one, the one where you had to
Speaker 1: say something difficult, or the one where you said yes
Speaker 1: when you wanted to say no, or the one where
Speaker 1: you listened and held space for someone else and had
Speaker 1: nothing left at the end of it. The hands were
Speaker 1: not literally holding that car conversation, but the body was.
Speaker 1: The body holds every word you speak in the jaw,
Speaker 1: in the throat, in the chest. The body holds what
Speaker 1: you did not say, too. The body knows. So now
Speaker 1: we are going to do a small body scan, just
Speaker 1: for a moment, just to notice what is true in
Speaker 1: the body right now. I am not going to ask
Speaker 1: you to change anything. I am only going to ask
Speaker 1: you to feel. Let the jaw soften. The jaw holds
Speaker 1: a lot. It holds the words you swallowed, the things
Speaker 1: you did not say, the clenching that happens when the
Speaker 1: day gets to be too much. Let the jaw be heavy,
Speaker 1: Let the teeth part slightly. The jaw does not have
Speaker 1: to hold anything right now. Let it rest. Now the shoulders.
Speaker 1: The shoulders are up by the ears, or maybe they
Speaker 1: are tight, or maybe they are dropped but still holding
Speaker 1: tension like a memory. Whatever they are doing, notice it.
Speaker 1: You do not have to fix it. Just notice that
Speaker 1: they have been carrying the shoulders, carried the bag, the coat,
Speaker 1: the weight of arms that reached for so many things
Speaker 1: this morning. They have been working. Let them be held
Speaker 1: by the chair, by the breath, by the permission to
Speaker 1: do nothing. Now. The chest, the chest where the breath lives,
Speaker 1: the chest where the heart beats its steady rhythm, whether
Speaker 1: you are paying attention or not. The chest has been
Speaker 1: holding the coffee, the phone, the conversation, the early morning light,
Speaker 1: the disappointment, the small win you did not celebrate because
Speaker 1: there is no time. The chest is holding all of
Speaker 1: it right now. Let it be held back. Let the
Speaker 1: breath move in and out of the chest without asking
Speaker 1: anything of it. The chest does not have to perform.
Speaker 1: It just has to be here. It just has to
Speaker 1: be the place where you are breathing right now. And
Speaker 1: that is enough. That has always been enough. Here is
Speaker 1: what you are allowed to put down. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to put down the performance you have been giving all morning.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to put down the version of yourself
Speaker 1: that was more capable than you felt. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to put down the impression you have been trying to make.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to put down the thing you are
Speaker 1: supposed to have finished by now. You are allowed to
Speaker 1: put down the guilt about the thing you did not finish.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to put down the email you have
Speaker 1: been dreading opening. You are allowed to put down the
Speaker 1: conversation you have been putting off. You are allowed to
Speaker 1: put down the need to be understood. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to put down the need to explain yourself. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to put down the weight of being the person
Speaker 1: everyone counts on. You are allowed to put down the
Speaker 1: story you have been telling about how you are handling everything.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to put down the story about how
Speaker 1: you are not handling everything. You are allowed to put
Speaker 1: down the story about how you are not handling everything.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to put down the need to be okay.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to put down the need to not
Speaker 1: be okay. You are allowed to put down the need
Speaker 1: to know what comes next. You are allowed to put
Speaker 1: down the need to control what comes next. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to put down the thing you keep replaying in
Speaker 1: your mind, the moment that did not go the way
Speaker 1: you wanted, the thing you said that you wish you
Speaker 1: had not said, the thing you did not say that
Speaker 1: you wish you had said. You are allowed to put
Speaker 1: that down. Not forever, not permanently, just for right now,
Speaker 1: just for this breath. You can pick it back up
Speaker 1: later if you need to, But right now, in this moment,
Speaker 1: in this room, in this breath, you are allowed to
Speaker 1: set it down. The body knows, the body is ready
Speaker 1: to set it down. Let it go, Let it go
Speaker 1: the way the xay goes slow long release. Let us
Speaker 1: pause for a moment and notice the room you are in.
Speaker 1: You do not have to change anything about it. You
Speaker 1: only have to notice it. Notice the walls. If there
Speaker 1: are walls, notice the color of them. Notice the way
Speaker 1: the light falls across them. Notice the floor beneath your feet,
Speaker 1: or the chair beneath your body. Notice the texture of it,
Speaker 1: the solidity of it, the way it is holding you
Speaker 1: up without asking anything in return. Notice the window, if
Speaker 1: there is a window, notice what you can see through it.
Speaker 1: Notice the light, Notice the way it moves or does
Speaker 1: not move. Notice the quality of it, whether it is
Speaker 1: bright or soft, whether it is warm or cool, whether
Speaker 1: it is the light of mid day, or the light
Speaker 1: of a cloudy day. Whatever it is, let it be
Speaker 1: what it is. Notice the sounds that are in the room,
Speaker 1: the sounds that are close, and the sounds that are far.
Speaker 1: The hum of something electrical may be, or the sound
Speaker 1: of your own breathing, or the sound of nothing at all.
Speaker 1: Notice the silence that is underneath the sounds. Notice the
Speaker 1: space the room is making for you, the way it
Speaker 1: holds you without crowding you, the way it gives you
Speaker 1: room to breathe. You are not alone in this room.
Speaker 1: The room is here with you. The walls are here
Speaker 1: with you, the light is herewith you, the air is
Speaker 1: here with you. You are held by the room the
Speaker 1: way you are held by the breath. You are contained
Speaker 1: by something larger than your anxiety. You are held by
Speaker 1: the space around you. Let that be a comfort. Let
Speaker 1: that be enough. The room does not need you to
Speaker 1: be anything other than what you are. The room does
Speaker 1: not need you to perform. The room is simply here,
Speaker 1: and so are you, and that is enough. Now we
Speaker 1: are going to pause, and we are going to let
Speaker 1: the senses open, not to analyze, not to judge, just
Speaker 1: to notice. The room you are in has been here
Speaker 1: the whole time it has been holding you in its
Speaker 1: particular kind of silence, its particular kind of light, and
Speaker 1: you are allowed to finally look at it. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to see it. First the sounds. Let the ears
Speaker 1: receive what is already arriving. Maybe there is a hum,
Speaker 1: the refrigerator, the heater, the ventilation system, the sound of
Speaker 1: a machine that has been running so long you stopped
Speaker 1: hearing it, but it is still there. Both of those
Speaker 1: things are true at once. Now the light, Let the
Speaker 1: eyes soften and receive what is coming through. Maybe it
Speaker 1: is morning light, pale and cool, arriving at an angle
Speaker 1: that makes everything look softer than it really is. Maybe
Speaker 1: it is afternoon light, warmer, more golden, the kind that
Speaker 1: makes dust visible in the air. Maybe it is artificial light,
Speaker 1: the fluorescent hum of an office, the warm glow of
Speaker 1: a lamp, the blue light of a screen you have
Speaker 1: not looked at yet today. Whatever light is in the room,
Speaker 1: let it land on your skin. Let it remind you
Speaker 1: that you are in a place, that the place is real,
Speaker 1: That the walls and the ceiling and the floor are
Speaker 1: holding you the way the breath is holding you. They
Speaker 1: are all holding you, and you are allowed to feel
Speaker 1: that now. The air. This one is harder because air
Speaker 1: is invisible, but you can feel it. The temperature of
Speaker 1: the room, on the skin of your forearms, on the
Speaker 1: back of your neck, on the places where the body
Speaker 1: meets the chair. Is the air warm or cool? Is
Speaker 1: it still or is there a draft somewhere? A small
Speaker 1: movement of air against the cheek. The air has been
Speaker 1: breathing with you this whole time. The air in this
Speaker 1: room is the same air that has been in your lungs,
Speaker 1: and your lungs have been giving it back to the room,
Speaker 1: and the room has been giving it back to you.
Speaker 1: And that exchange has been happening all morning long, without
Speaker 1: you needing to consider about it. The body knows. The
Speaker 1: body has been breathing the room, and the room has
Speaker 1: been breathing you. Let all of this be enough. Let
Speaker 1: the room be exactly what it is. You do not
Speaker 1: have to change it, or improve it or leave it.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to be here in this room, in
Speaker 1: this light, in this air, in this sound, and to
Speaker 1: be exactly where you are. There is nowhere else you
Speaker 1: need to be. The breath has been here longer than
Speaker 1: the day, longer than the week. The breath was here
Speaker 1: before the list was made, before the meeting was scheduled,
Speaker 1: before the worry landed in the chest. The breath is
Speaker 1: the oldest companion you have. It arrived in this body
Speaker 1: before you had a name. It will be here after
Speaker 1: every other habit of attention has faded. So if you
Speaker 1: cannot remember who you are right now, the brath remembers
Speaker 1: for you. It keeps going. It does not need you
Speaker 1: to be a certain kind of person. It just keeps going.
Speaker 1: That is its quiet gift to you. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to notice how the breath meets you wherever you are.
Speaker 1: You do not have to go to it. It comes
Speaker 1: to you, whether you are sitting upright or curled sideways,
Speaker 1: whether the room is bright or dim. The bath finds
Speaker 1: its way in and out without your instruction. The body
Speaker 1: knows how to do this. The body has always known.
Speaker 1: You are not required to teach it, or remind it,
Speaker 1: or push it towards some better version of itself. The
Speaker 1: brath is not interested in better. It is interested only
Speaker 1: in continuing, and in that continuation it is offering you
Speaker 1: a kind of permanence that nothing else in your life
Speaker 1: has ever offered. You are allowed to notice that the
Speaker 1: breath has no preference for the kind of mourning you
Speaker 1: have had. It does not know if your mourning was
Speaker 1: gentle or frantic, productive or wasted, kind to yourself or unkind.
Speaker 1: The breath moves the same way whether you are celebrating
Speaker 1: or grieving, whether you are certain or completely lost. It
Speaker 1: does not check your calendar before it arrives. It does
Speaker 1: not ask what you have accomplished. It simply enters, fills,
Speaker 1: releases again again. This is the body's oldest wisdom, and
Speaker 1: you are held inside it right now, not because you
Speaker 1: earned this holding, but because it was already here, waiting
Speaker 1: for you before you even walked into the room. You
Speaker 1: do not have to remember anything right now. The breath
Speaker 1: is remembering for you. It remembers that you are alive.
Speaker 1: It remembers that you are worthy of rest, not because
Speaker 1: of what you do, but because you are a body
Speaker 1: that breathes, and that has always been enough. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to let the breath do this work for you.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to stop carrying the remembering alone. The
Speaker 1: breath is here and it has not forgotten you. It
Speaker 1: has never forgotten you. You can rest now. You can
Speaker 1: simply be breathed. The body is allowed to be tired.
Speaker 1: You hear me. The body that is sitting here right now,
Speaker 1: the body that held you through the morning, the body
Speaker 1: that got you from the bed to the chair you
Speaker 1: are in this very moment. That body is allowed to
Speaker 1: be tired. There is no productivity requirement for grief. There
Speaker 1: is no efficiency metric for heaviness. You are allowed to
Speaker 1: be tired in a way that has nothing to do
Speaker 1: with how much sleep you got and everything to do
Speaker 1: with how much you have been carrying. The morning is
Speaker 1: allowed to have been too much. You do not have
Speaker 1: to tell me what it was. Maybe it was the
Speaker 1: alarm that came too soon. Maybe it was the email
Speaker 1: that arrived before you were ready. Maybe it was the
Speaker 1: conversation you had to have, or the one you did not,
Speaker 1: or the one you are still turning over in your
Speaker 1: mind like a stone you cannot set down. Maybe it
Speaker 1: was nothing specific at all, just a weight that accumulated overnight,
Speaker 1: or over weeks or across years. The morning is allowed
Speaker 1: to have been too much. That is not a failure.
Speaker 1: That is a fact about this particular morning, and it
Speaker 1: does not require you to make a story out of it.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to be in the middle of a
Speaker 1: long day and still feel like you have not done enough.
Speaker 1: I know that feeling. It lives in the chest like
Speaker 1: a second heart beat. It whispers that the hours you
Speaker 1: have already spent are hours you should have spent differently, better, more.
Speaker 1: But listen, you are in the middle of the day.
Speaker 1: The day is not over. And even if it were,
Speaker 1: even if you sat here and did nothing else but
Speaker 1: breathe for every remaining hour, that would still be a day.
Speaker 1: That would still be a life. You are allowed to
Speaker 1: feel like you have not done enough and still be enough.
Speaker 1: Those two things can exist in the same body. They can.
Speaker 1: I am asking you to let them. None of that
Speaker 1: is a verdict about you. I need you to hear that.
Speaker 1: The to do list that is still unchecked that is paper.
Speaker 1: It is not a judgment. The inbox that is still full,
Speaker 1: that is data on a server somewhere. It is not
Speaker 1: who you are. The conversation that did not go the
Speaker 1: way you wanted, the task you keep pushing back, the
Speaker 1: thing you said yes to when you wanted to say no.
Speaker 1: None of that is a verdict. It is just stuff.
Speaker 1: It is just life happening and you in it. And
Speaker 1: sometimes the fit is awkward and sometimes it is not,
Speaker 1: and either way, you are still here. You are still
Speaker 1: in your body, You are still breathing. That has to
Speaker 1: count for something, and I am telling you it counts
Speaker 1: for everything. None of that is a forecast for the
Speaker 1: rest of the day. What happened in the morning does
Speaker 1: not know what is coming in the evening. The hours
Speaker 1: ahead of you are not written. Yet. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to set down the narrative that the day is ruined
Speaker 1: or wasted, or already lost. You are allowed to start
Speaker 1: now from here, wherever here is. The breath you just
Speaker 1: took is older than the to do list. Let that
Speaker 1: sink in. The breath you just took came from somewhere
Speaker 1: deeper than your phone, deeper than your calendar, deeper than
Speaker 1: the list of everything you believe you should be doing.
Speaker 1: It came from the body. It came from the life
Speaker 1: that has been living itself inside you since before you
Speaker 1: knew what a day was, before you learn to measure
Speaker 1: yourself against hours and output and what other people need
Speaker 1: from you. The body you are sitting in right now
Speaker 1: is older than the inbox, older than the deadline, older
Speaker 1: than the role you play. The title on your email signature,
Speaker 1: the version of you that wakes up and performs. This
Speaker 1: body has survived every single day you have ever lived.
Speaker 1: It has carried you through loss and boredom and ordinary
Speaker 1: Tuesday mornings and the hardest nights. It is still here,
Speaker 1: It is still holding you. That is not a small thing.
Speaker 1: That is everything. You are not behind. I need you
Speaker 1: to understand. There is no schedule you are late for
Speaker 1: that matters more than the breath you are breathing right now.
Speaker 1: There is no finish line you are failing to cross
Speaker 1: that is worth the cost of this moment, this one
Speaker 1: right here, where you are alive and in a body
Speaker 1: and capable of feeling the air move in and out.
Speaker 1: And that is enough. That has always been enough. You
Speaker 1: are not failing. You are simply here in the middle.
Speaker 1: And the middle is a real place to be. It
Speaker 1: is not a waiting room. It is not a punishment.
Speaker 1: It is where life is actually happening, between what already
Speaker 1: happened and what has not happened yet. And you are
Speaker 1: here for it. You are allowed to be here for
Speaker 1: it without earning it. You are allowed to be here
Speaker 1: for it, tired and overwhelmed and not enough, and still
Speaker 1: still be exactly where you need to be breathe in,
Speaker 1: not to fix anything, not to get somewhere, just to
Speaker 1: be here in the middle, with the breath you are
Speaker 1: given today. That is enough, that has always been enough.
Speaker 1: The breath can be away home. Not the breath as
Speaker 1: a tool for productivity, Not the breath as a way
Speaker 1: to get more done. Not the breath as a way
Speaker 1: to be better at whatever comes next. The breath as
Speaker 1: a way home to yourself, the breath as a way
Speaker 1: to come back to the place and you that knows,
Speaker 1: that has always known, that does not need to be
Speaker 1: told what to do. The breath is always available as
Speaker 1: a way back. You can use it whenever you need it.
Speaker 1: You do not need a quiet room, you do not
Speaker 1: need a meditation cushion. You do not need twenty minutes
Speaker 1: or an hour or any length of time at all.
Speaker 1: You only need one breath. One breath, and you can
Speaker 1: come back one breath, and you can remember that you
Speaker 1: are here, that you are real, that you are still
Speaker 1: alive in this body, that the morning was too much,
Speaker 1: but you are still here. You made it through, You
Speaker 1: are still here, and you can use the breath to
Speaker 1: come back to yourself. The breath is always waiting. The
Speaker 1: breath has never left you. The breath is the thread
Speaker 1: that runs through every moment of your life, and you
Speaker 1: can grab on to it any time, anywhere, and it
Speaker 1: will take you home. Home is not a place. Home
Speaker 1: is this home is the body. Home is the breath.
Speaker 1: Home is the present moment. That is the only home
Speaker 1: there is, and you can go there any time and
Speaker 1: the breath will show you the way. Now, let us
Speaker 1: talk about the coming hours. The day is not over.
Speaker 1: There are things that will be asked of you in
Speaker 1: the hours to come. There will be more emails, more messages,
Speaker 1: more tasks, more people needing things, more expectations, more demands
Speaker 1: on your time and your attention and your energy. You
Speaker 1: do not have to meet all of them, but you
Speaker 1: will meet some of them. And I want to give
Speaker 1: you a practice for the coming hours. Something small, something
Speaker 1: you can carry with you, something that does not take
Speaker 1: more than a few seconds. Here is the practice. Before
Speaker 1: you open the next message, take one breath, just one breath.
Speaker 1: Breathe in, breathe out, and then open the message. Before
Speaker 1: you start the next task, take one breath, just one breath.
Speaker 1: Breathe in, breathe out, and then begin. Before you answer
Speaker 1: the next question, Take one breath, just one breath, Breathe in,
Speaker 1: breathe out, and then answer before you walk into the
Speaker 1: next meeting, take one breath, just one breath. Breathe in,
Speaker 1: breathe out, and then walk in. This is not a
Speaker 1: productivity hack. This is not a way to get more done.
Speaker 1: This is a way to stay connected to yourself. This
Speaker 1: is a way to remember that you are not just
Speaker 1: a processing unit for other people's needs. This is a
Speaker 1: way to come home to yourself in the middle of
Speaker 1: your day. One breath before the next thing. That is
Speaker 1: all you can do that. You can do that, even
Speaker 1: if everything else is falling apart. You can do that,
Speaker 1: even if you are overwhelmed. You can do that, even
Speaker 1: if you are running late. One breath. That is the practice.
Speaker 1: The breath will be there. The breath is always there,
Speaker 1: and you are allowed to take it. You are allowed
Speaker 1: to pause for one breath in the middle of your day.
Speaker 1: You are allowed to give yourself that. Now, let us
Speaker 1: settle in for a little longer. Let us stay here
Speaker 1: in this room, in this breath for a few more minutes.
Speaker 1: You do not have to do anything. You do not
Speaker 1: have to fix anything, You do not have to figure
Speaker 1: anything out. You only have to be here, breathing, present, alive.
Speaker 1: Let the breath find its own rhythm. Let it be
Speaker 1: slow or fast, deep or shallow, whatever it needs to be.
Speaker 1: Do not try to control it, Do not try to
Speaker 1: make it into something it is not. Let the breath
Speaker 1: be what it is, and let yourself be in it.
Speaker 1: And let that be enough. Let your body be heavy,
Speaker 1: Let it sink into the chair or the floor or
Speaker 1: wherever you are. Let the weight of you be held
Speaker 1: by the surface beneath you. You do not have to
Speaker 1: hold yourself up. You do not have to be strong
Speaker 1: right now. You can be soft, You can be still.
Speaker 1: You can be exactly as tired as you are, exactly
Speaker 1: as overwhelmed as you are, exactly as human as you are.
Speaker 1: The breath is holding you, the room is holding you,
Speaker 1: the moment is holding you. There is nothing you need
Speaker 1: to do, There is nothing you need to fix, There
Speaker 1: is nothing you need to become. You are already enough.
Speaker 1: You have always been enough. Let that settle into your
Speaker 1: body the way the air settles into your lungs, slowly, gently, completely.
Speaker 1: You are here, You are breathing, You are alive. That
Speaker 1: is everything. That is the only thing. Let the breath
Speaker 1: move through you, like water, like wind, like something that
Speaker 1: does not need your permission to be what it is.
Speaker 1: Let yourself be still, Let yourself be quiet. Let yourself
Speaker 1: be held by this moment, by this breath, by this room,
Speaker 1: by the silence underneath everything. This is your quiet moment.
Speaker 1: This is the moment the day has been asking for
Speaker 1: without knowing how to ask. This is the moment where
Speaker 1: you come back to yourself. Not as a better version, no,
Speaker 1: as a more productive version, no as a version that
Speaker 1: has it all together, but as yourself, the real self,
Speaker 1: the one that has been waiting underneath the noise. You
Speaker 1: can rest here. You can rest as long as you need.
Speaker 1: The breath will keep going, the room will keep holding you.
Speaker 1: And when you are ready you can open your eyes
Speaker 1: and the day will still be there, and you will
Speaker 1: still be here, and you will have this breath, and
Speaker 1: you will have yourself, and that will be an that
Speaker 1: will always be enough. You are allowed to rest, You
Speaker 1: are allowed to stop, You are allowed to breathe. Let
Speaker 1: the breath be slow now, let the exhale be long,
Speaker 1: Let the body relax completely. Let the eyes close, if
Speaker 1: they have not closed already. Let the world get quiet.
Speaker 1: Let the moment, Be spacious, let yourself be held. Now
Speaker 1: we are going to come to the close of this
Speaker 1: time together, but we are not going to rush it.
Speaker 1: We are going to take a few more breaths, and
Speaker 1: each one is going to be a little shorter than
Speaker 1: the last, so that the body can gently come. You
Speaker 1: are allowed to return to the day and still feel this.
Speaker 1: One more breath, shorter, still a small sip of air,
Speaker 1: not a full drink. The body does not need as
Speaker 1: much as it assumed it did. The body knows how
Speaker 1: to rest, even when the breath is small and out, soft, gentle.
Speaker 1: The body is allowed to rest even now. You are
Speaker 1: allowed to close your eyes whenever you are ready. One
Speaker 1: last breath, the smallest one, just enough to remember that
Speaker 1: you are here, in the body, in the room, in
Speaker 1: this moment, which is the only moment that has ever
Speaker 1: actually been happening. And out and stay, stay in the pause,
Speaker 1: stay in the quiet. When you are ready, you can
Speaker 1: let the eyes open. You can let the body come
Speaker 1: back to the chair, to the floor, to wherever you are.
Speaker 1: You can let the breath find its own pace, its
Speaker 1: own rhythm, the way it was before you sat down
Speaker 1: and before we began the breath does not need you
Speaker 1: to manage it. The body knows, the body has always known.
Speaker 1: Thank you for this time. Thank you for showing up,
Speaker 1: even if you did not want to, even if you
Speaker 1: were tired, even if the morning was too much, You
Speaker 1: showed up. You breathed, you stayed. That is not a
Speaker 1: small thing. That is everything. Good Bye for now. May
Speaker 1: the breath go with you into the next room, into
Speaker 1: the next hour, into whatever waits beyond this stillness. You
Speaker 1: do not have to hold on to it tightly. You
Speaker 1: only have to know that it is there, that it
Speaker 1: has always been there, moving in you and through you,
Speaker 1: like a quiet river that does not stop even when
Speaker 1: you are not watching. May the next hour be a
Speaker 1: little gentler than you expect. May the people you meet
Speaker 1: be a little softer, the demands a little lighter, the
Speaker 1: space between tasks a little wider. You are allowed to
Speaker 1: move slowly. You are allowed to let the afternoon unfold
Speaker 1: without rushing to meet it. The breath will still be there,
Speaker 1: beneath your thoughts, beneath your words, beneath the noise of
Speaker 1: the hours ahead. May you not have to perform for
Speaker 1: the next ninety minutes. You are allowed to simply be present,
Speaker 1: to do what is in front of you without turning
Speaker 1: it into a proof of something. The breath does not
Speaker 1: need you to be impressive. The body does not need
Speaker 1: you to be impressive. You are allowed to let the
Speaker 1: afternoon ask less of you than you have been giving.
Speaker 1: The breath goes with you now. The breath goes with you.
Speaker 1: Good Bye for now,