Arriving in the Morning Light

01Find a place where your body can be unhurried. A chair, the edge of the bed, the floor. Let your feet meet the ground and let your hands rest wherever they are heaviest.

02Close your eyes, or let them soften toward the floor. Take one breath that is longer on the way out than it was on the way in. Then another. There is nothing to fix in these first moments.

03Notice the light. Even behind closed eyes, morning has a colour. Let it arrive without reaching for it.

04Now bring your attention to the place where your breath is easiest to feel — the nostrils, the chest, the belly. Stay there for ten breaths. If you lose count, begin again at one. Losing count is not a failure; it is the practice noticing itself.

05Say quietly, inside: I am here before the day begins. Let that be true for a few breaths.

06Feel the weight of your body being held. The chair holds you. The floor holds the chair. The earth holds the floor. You are not carrying this morning alone.

07Now think of one thing you will meet today. Not the whole day — one thing. See yourself walking toward it slowly, with your shoulders low.

08Take three more breaths, each one a little slower than the last.

09When you are ready, let your eyes open. Keep some of this softness with you. You can return to it at any hour — it does not close when you stand up.