a Misty Mindfulness Moment
Get yourself situated in whatever way feels the least annoying.
Sit down.
Lie down.
Curl up like a little creature.
Wrap yourself in a blanket if you want.
We don’t need perfect posture.
We don’t need to pretend to be enlightened.
We don’t need to pretend to be serene.
Just be here.
Take a breath in.
Let it out.
You do not need to become calm immediately.
You do not need to transcend or reach nirvana.
You do not need to be like a pretty butterfly.
You just need to notice that you are here.
Still breathing and existing.
Still, against all odds and nonsense,
a person with a real inner world.
Notice what is holding you up right now.
The chair.
The floor.
The bed.
Gravity doing its little thing.
Notice the weight of your body.
Notice where your skin meets air.
Notice where you feel tight, heavy, tired, floaty.
Just notice.
Now let the outside noise quiet a little.
Just turn down the volume enough
that you can hear yourself through it.
Sometimes you get so busy surviving,
adapting, managing, performing,
anticipating, explaining, compensating,
and trying not to explode that you lose track of your own self.
You start moving so fast or so automatically
that one day you look up and think:
Wait.
What the heck happened?
Where did I go in all of this?
Why do I feel like I have no control in my own weird little life?
So for right now, we are not solving your entire existence.
We are not trying to fix every trauma inside of us.
We are just making connection with you.
The real you.
The you that still exists
even when life gets loud and stupid and full of noise.
Take another breath in.
And as you breathe out, ask yourself gently:
What feels right inside me right now?
Not what sounds good.
Not what would make the most sense on paper.
Not what would keep everyone else comfortable.
Not what you think you should say.
What feels real?
Maybe the answer comes as words.
Maybe it comes as a sensation.
A heaviness.
A pull.
A little spark.
A quiet no.
A tired yes.
A grief.
A relief.
Whatever shows up,
let it show up without immediately analyzing it.
Take another breath.
Ask yourself:
What have I been suppressing?
A feeling?
A need?
A preference?
A truth that felt inconvenient?
A part of you that kept screaming while you were busy being functional and impressive and tolerating nonsense?
Just notice.
You do not have to force a revelation.
This is not a hunt for insight.
This is just you, getting a little closer to yourself again.
What matters to me right now?
What feels like noise?
Where do I feel myself disappearing?
Where do I feel even a tiny bit more like I matter?
What in me wants to be listened to instead of managed?
Pause there for a moment.
And if your mind starts wandering or producing weird nonsense or suddenly remembering an embarrassing thing
that is okay.
Just notice it,
acknowledge it,
then come back.
Come back to your breath.
Come back to the weight of your body.
Come back to the fact that you are here.
You are still here.
Not altered beyond recognition.
Not a hollow shell full of tasks and chores and responsibilities and reactions and coping mechanisms.
You are still in there.
Even if you have had to go hide.
Even if you have had to become practical.
Even if parts of you got masked under survival.
Even if you have not felt like yourself in a while.
You are still here.
You do not need to become a whole new person tonight.
You do not need to come out from this meditation as a self-actualized someone with all the answers.
You just need to practice not abandoning yourself.
And tell yourself, quietly or in your head:
I am allowed to notice myself.
I am allowed to have my own signal.
I am allowed to want what I want.
I am allowed to feel what I feel.
I am allowed to stop calling everything fine when it is actually soul-static and nothing sauce.
I am allowed to come back to myself without shame.
I am allowed to be real.
Take a breath in.
And out.
I do not have to figure everything out right now.
I just have to be honest enough to notice.
I do not have to become someone else.
I just have to stay with myself a little longer.
My sense of self is not gone.
It is something I can return to.
Let yourself breathe there for a moment.
Then start to notice the room again.
The sounds around you.
The surface beneath you.
The air.
The beautiful fact that you are you in a body on a planet in space in time having an experience.
Wiggle your fingers.
Move your shoulders.
Unclench your jaw.
Blink. Stretch.
And when you get up from here, you do not have to carry certainty.
Just carry a little more you.
A little more truth.
A little more signal.
A little less noise.
A little less self-abandonment.
A little more of your own weird little soul.