A contemplative practice on what comes, what leaves, and what remains.

Opening: Settling into Ephemeral Stillness

Sit where the breeze finds you, and just for a moment, let it pass over you. Not grasped.

Not followed.

Just received.

Allow the eyelids to slowly fall closed.

A tangerine sun settling into soft clouds; themselves setting down into the far shore.

Quietly colorful.

Let the body soften, as if exhaling all the way to the floor. You are not the center of attention here - You are one small part of a great pattern.

Feel the quiet repetition -

the fan turns, the air arrives...

the fan turn, the air leaves...

You might already feel it:

this is a meditation on change.

The Movement that Arrives

When the breeze returns, meet it with Mind Heart Spirit gently.

Let yourself attend to what is present now:

• The air cool against your cheek • A distant voice, or a dog bark carried faintly • The smell of dust, or rain, or yesterday’s coffee • A shifting shadow on the inside of your eyelids

Everything here is borrowed. A fleeting visitor.

Even this breeze.

What you notice, you notice once - it won’t ever be this way again.

You won't ever be this way again.

Let this moment pass.

Let the next moment arrive.

The Movement that Leaves

The air drifts off. Warmth returns to the skin. Now the silence has edges.

Turn gently toward what remains:

• A slight ache in the hip • A thought flickering and dissolving • Hunger in the belly or heart

• Anxieties roiling like bubbling sewer waters beneath the well-lit cityscape • A tightness, or dullness, or hollowed-out quiet

This, too: a visitor. This, too: will leave.

You are the host-

Let all visitors come.

Let all visitors go.

You are the host- Stay seated by the door.

The Fan as a Teacher

The fan does not chase or resist. It simply turns.

Returning, leaving.

Turning, returning.

Returning, departing...

And so, with awareness:

Let it come.

Let it go. Let it all be a path of return.

All is but a visitor.

All is generously and genially hosted...for a time.

For its time.

You are not trying to hold on. You are learning how to open.

You are learning to see all experiences as visitors.

Visitors to your deep emptiness...

Visitors to your deep stillness...

Visitors to your deep welcoming...

Closing: What Remains when All Passes

As you draw the practice to a close, feel what’s still here:

The body, breathing. The presence, quiet. The space, open.

feel what’s still here:

a Host

Visitors

Emptiness

Presence

All that passed was real. and yet, here you are - clear as a teacup

full of water.

Your eyes, all three, smoothly roll open.

A new day dawning. The sun and its light dawning.

Your eyes, all three, receiving light with newfound clarity.

Thank you.

to enjoy a briefer companion Guided Meditation, please consider giving this a listen:

https://www.swellcast.com/t/O1UqU7tdfqeY9dO

Arrival

Take your seat near the soft hum of the fan.

The fan oscillates, steadily, predictably.

As you settle into a contrasting stillness.

The air is cool, comforting...

The fan's gentle breeze arrives, the fan's gentle breeze departs, the fan's gentle breeze returns...

Let the body rest in stillness, however the familiar stillness might welcome you home, today

Let your spine lengthen, expressing a quiet dignity.

Hands rest open.

Nothing needs fixing here - only noticing.

There’s nothing you need to perform - just arrive, as you are.

Notice the play of air around you. The quiet rhythm of breath. The somewhat distant turning of blades.

The air - sped up, chopped - arrives in waves. A cooling presence that comes…and that goes.

Feel the weight of your body, grounded. Supported. A simple, smooth altar stone settling into soft sands.

Introduction to Awareness

The eyes can be softly closed throughout this meditation. They can also be open softly, not searching - at rest. Lastly, the eyes can open when it feels natural and fall to a closed and soft position when that feels natural.

Settling the Breath

Allow your breath to anchor you.

Let each inhalation and each exhalation be unhurried.

Listen:

to the soft pulse of the fan as it sways.

This is your gong, your bell, your metronome.

Let the breath draw you inward.

Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth - softly, naturally. No effort. Just return. Again and again.

The fan moves. And then it doesn’t. There is a rhythm here - a natural pendulum.

When the breeze touches your skin…that’s your call to turn outward. When the breeze is absent…that’s your cue to turn inward.

Wind on the Skin: Turning Outward

(External Awareness) When the moving air returns, feel it whisper to your skin - a breath from the world. In these moments, let the arriving breeze be an invitation to open your awareness outward, to the great, wide world outside of the small self:

• Notice distant sounds - maybe a bird, the hum of passing life • Sense the shape of the room, light dancing behind closed lids • Open the gates of perception, receptive and spacious

Feel the moving air touch your face, your arms, your neck. This is your signal: expand your awareness outward.

Take your time.

Calmly notice:

• 🌬️ The texture of air brushing skin - cool, dry, fresh • 👂 Ambient sounds: a car passing, birdsong, a creaking pipe, voices drifting • 👃 Scents on the air: maybe the fading power of soap, old books, something cooking nearby • 🌫️ Light beyond closed lids, or shadows playing behind the eyes • The shape of the space around you - walls, windows, unseen dimensions you can still feel

Let awareness bloom like a lotus in the pond of the world - open, curious, vast.

The Stillness Between Breezes: Turning Inward

(Internal Awareness) When the fanned air fades and stillness returns, feel the whisper from deep within yourself - an echo of the simple spirit - a song from the bones. In these moments, let the departing breeze be an invitation to open your awareness inward, to the great wide world of the small self:

• Follow the breath inward, like a leaf drawn into a quiet current • Sense thoughts as movement, feelings as weather • Let awareness rest behind the eyes, or deep in the belly

Now the air fades. The fan turns away. Your skin is untouched. This is your call to turn inward.

Let your awareness sink - slowly, gently, & without force. There is another world here, too.

Quietly return to the vast inner landscape.

Rest in:

• 🫁 The subtle movement of breath in the chest or perhaps low in the belly • 🧠 Thoughts rising like mist - perhaps impatient, serene, scattered, repeating • 💭 Emotions floating to the surface: perhaps related to hunger, jealousy, numbness, softness • 🪨 Tightness in the belly, the brow, the throat • The simple being-ness of the body: here, and not trying to be other than it is

Let inner space widen, not to analyze, but simply to hold. Whatever arises belongs - for now.

The Cycle Continues

Let this natural alternation be your guide. No need to grasp or resist.

Just follow the breath of the room. Follow the breath of your being.

The outer world visits the skin as the fan turns toward you; invitation accepted, the attention shifts to the outer world.

The outer world departs as the fan turns away; invitation accepted, the attention shifts to the inner world.

Let the rhythm unfold on its own:

Fan turns toward you - open to the wide world. Fan turns away - return to the wide world within.

Wind = outward. Stillness = inward.

Like waves brushing sand, this rhythm reveals: you are both ocean and shore.

You are not the thoughts. You are not the breeze. You are the space that holds both.

Closing (Integration) As the session draws to a close, widen your awareness to hold both inner and outer in a single field.

Let the purported boundaries blur.

The fan still hums, the breath still flows.

Fan or no fan, notice both inner and outer, held together.

Not as separate realms - but as one seamless, living field.

Let your eyes gently open. Notice how the room receives you. Notice how your presence receives the room.

Remember this rhythm - of out and in, touch and stillness -

Direct the mind.

Listen to invitations.

Know both realms, inner and outer.

Know both realms as one.

Thank you.

The Forest we Carry

a Guided Meditation on Transplanting one's Heartwood

Come into stillness. Let your body settle like rainwater pooling in cupped leaves. Feel the gravity that draws you downward and the subtle lift that moves upward through your spine. Let the breath begin without force. Let it arrive like mist across moss.

Inhale through your nose. Feel the coolness of air shaped by oceans and canopy. Exhale through your lips, soft and slow, like wind unfurling through cedar boughs at dawn.

Let this breath be more than breath. Let it carry the story of water vapor, the shimmer of oxygen offered by green leaf and lichen, the hush of nitrogen, the trace of pollen. This is not empty air. It is the memory of respiration - shared.

Now imagine a tree. Not in the shelter of forest, but planted alone. A specimen, separated by design. Chosen, transplanted, framed by distance.

Its leaves still stretch toward light. Its bark thickens against weather. But underground, its roots find no others. No fungal threads to share alarm. No passing of nutrients in lean times. No Ancestral stories riding beneath the humus.

The tree survives. But it does not thrive.

Let this image land in your body.

We too endure disconnection. We mimic health when seen from afar, yet beneath the surface, we are not nourished.

We speak, but our voices echo back hollow. We breathe, but the breath does not replenish.

Now return to breath.

Let your inhale mirror the photosynthesis of trees. Draw in oxygen, water vapor, suspended memory. Let your exhale be an offering - carbon for the forest, heat for the Earth, a gesture of return.

And remember - unlike the tree, you can move.

You can unroot. You can walk. You can carry your heartwood toward more fertile soil. This is not failure. This is wisdom.

Feel now the gentle unfurling of your inner roots. Not torn, but loosened. Not abandoned, but reclaimed.

You begin to move. Through misted groves. Over hills where pine tangles with sky. Beside creeks that speak in rounded stones and cool shadows.

And then - you arrive. Not at a place, but at recognition.

The forest.

It hums. It remembers. It receives.

Roots beneath you reach for one another. Fungal pathways shimmer like constellations buried in soil. Carbon trades hands without barter. Wisdom travels slowly, patiently, unseen.

Let your own roots extend. Let them enter this field of reciprocity. You do not take. You join.

Breathe again. Feel what you are a part of. Let the water in your breath rejoin the cycle. Let the exhaled carbon become gift, not waste. Let your breath affirm your belonging.

You are not a specimen. You are not alone. You are a living presence among others. You are movable, rootable, restorable.

Stay here a while. Let your breath settle into shared rhythm. Let the stillness deepen without emptiness. Let yourself be known.

When you are ready - begin to return. Wiggle fingers like rootlets sensing morning moisture. Circle your ankles, as if brushing soil with newly extended tips.

Open your eyes. Gently. Slowly. With reverence. As though you are opening a canopy, not to leave the forest - but to bring its memory with you.

You carry it now. The exchange. The silence. The right to root again where life speaks back.

You were never made to grow in isolation. You were made to walk with memory and to breathe in kinship.

Thank you.

Prologue:

terms to describe underground water systems and how water moves (or doesn’t move) through different layers of soil and rock.

Here’s a breakdown:

Aquifer

An aquifer is a layer of rock, sand, or gravel that holds and transmits groundwater. It’s like an underground reservoir.

* Unconfined Aquifer:

This is directly open to the surface, meaning it has no impermeable layer above it. Rainwater or surface water can seep directly down into it.

* The top of the water in this aquifer is called the water table.

* It’s more vulnerable to pollution and seasonal changes.

* Confined Aquifer:

This lies beneath an impermeable layer (like clay or rock), which traps the water under pressure.

* Water enters this aquifer only at places where it is exposed at the surface (called a recharge zone).

* When tapped (like by a well), the pressure can force water to rise, sometimes even artesian flow (where it flows without pumping).

Aquitard

An aquitard is a layer of material (often clay, silt, or dense rock) that slows the flow of water but doesn’t completely block it.

* It allows some water to pass through, but very slowly.

* Aquitards can sit above or below an aquifer or both, affecting how water gets in or out.

* They’re important in forming confined aquifers, acting as the barrier that traps water under pressure.

Aquiclude

An aquiclude is a layer that is essentially impermeable to water.

* It does not transmit water at all or only transmits it so minimally that it’s negligible.

* Common aquicludes include solid clay, shale, or unfractured crystalline rock.

* Like aquitards, aquicludes can cap or underlie aquifers, especially confined ones, but they completely restrict water flow.

Interrelationships

These elements work together like a natural plumbing system:

* Water seeps through permeable layers (aquifers) and is slowed or stopped by aquitards and aquicludes.

* A confined aquifer is sandwiched between two aquitards or aquicludes (or one of each), creating pressure.

* An unconfined aquifer lies above an aquitard or aquiclude, with the water table open to the surface.

* Aquitards allow vertical leakage from one aquifer to another, though slowly, while aquicludes effectively seal them off.

Alternative Visual Analogy

Think of it like a layer cake:

* Top sponge layer = unconfined aquifer (porous, water flows in easily)

* Thin frosting layer = aquitard (slows water)

* Middle sponge layer = confined aquifer (water trapped under pressure)

* Bottom crust = aquiclude (almost impermeable)

Let yourself settle - deeply into stillness...

Closing - slowly - your eyes...gently.

Feel your body resting against the Earth,

and remember that beneath you - deep beneath the soil - there are layers of stone, crystal, clay, and water.

Just as the Earth holds rivers underground,

you, too, carry the quiet current of life.

Breathe in slowly.

As you breathe out, let your awareness drop -

sinking through surface noise,

through surface tension,

through surface thought.

Sink below what is easily seen.

Drift down into the aquifer within.

Imagine now that your life energy is like water -

flowing, circulating, always seeking balance.

There is the unconfined aquifer -

the part of you open to the world above.

Here, your energy can be replenished by

the rain of experiences,

the sunlight of others,

the moisture of each passing breath.

This layer is alive and porous,

taking in the world and offering itself freely.

Let your awareness settle deeper now.

Below the surface, you encounter the aquitard -

a gentle resistance, not a wall,

but a boundary that

slows movement,

asks for pause,

and invites rest.

Let yourself be held by this slowing.

Feel how it helps settle the energy,

allowing nourishment to sink deeper still.

Below, you reach the confined aquifer -

the sacred reserve of energy held in protection.

It is not reached directly -

but fed by

subtle channels,

quiet passages,

unseen pathways.

This is your deep well.

It is held under pressure -

not tension, but potential.

Here, even stillness has force.

You are full, even in silence.

And farther down still, you may sense the aquiclude -

a threshold beyond which nothing flows.

This is not denial, but deep protection.

It marks the limits of movement and the beginning of deep structure.

There are parts of you, like the ancient Earth,

that simply hold.

That do not yield.

That support everything else by their quiet, grounding presence.

As you breathe, feel all of these layers alive within you -

the open and flowing,

the slow and filtering,

the pressured and protected,

the deep and enduring.

Let your breath move like water -

sometimes soaking,

sometimes trickling,

sometimes still.

Permeating, percolating...

You are a living aquifer -

life energy

flowing in,

moving through,

settling where it is needed,

and resting in stillness where it is not.

Stay here for a few more breaths...

Drink from your own deep well.

When you are ready, gently rise back through the layers -

not to leave them behind,

but to carry their watery wisdom with you.

Back to the surface,

into the light,

into this surface experience of life.

An offer of life through life and to life...

Thank you.

🌀

This Ocean of Return - 返本归原, Fǎnběn guī yuán

(ambient waves, soft wind, distant seabirds, slow deep gong tone)

Opening: Settling the Body

Let your body soften like tidal flats after warm rains.

Feel the weight of your breath… returning to you.

Inhale - rising. Exhale - receding.

Like the sea, you do not cling. You rise. You return.

[Visual: tide brushing over footprints, softening edges; breathing synced with ebb and flow]

Wave: What Comes, Returns

Before you, a wave lifts from the wide sea. It crests - not to conquer - but to complete its arc.

You watch it rise, translucent and trembling - gold at the edges - and then it falls.

Not broken.

Not lost. Simply returned.

Each breath mirrors this. Form drawn from formlessness - and, in its time, falling back again.

Inhale - rising. Exhale - receding.

This…

is 返本归原, Fǎnběn guī yuán Return to the root. Return to the origin.

Your thoughts also rise like waves. Let them.

And let them return.

[Visual: a golden wave building slowly, breaking, dissolving beneath the surface; camera lingers underwater as bubbles rise and fall]

Bird: The Sky and the Ground Are Not Separate

A seabird soars - wings outstretched like brushstrokes of intention.

The Sky welcomes its turning. The Wind cradles its flight.

The Sun lights its every swoop and arc.

The salt air carries its every call.

But the seabird does not stay in flight forever. It circles… and glides downward. Landing is not failure.

It is fidelity.

This…

is 返本归原, Fǎnběn guī yuán. Return to the root. Return to the origin.

Each breath: Form drawn from formlessness - and back again.

Inhale - rising. Exhale - receding.

You too may glide into stillness and know it as your nature. The Sky does not mourn the bird’s return to Earth.

[Visual: seabird silhouetted against clouds, circling wide, landing on driftwood; feathers ruffling in the breeze]

Fish: The Beauty of a Brief Ascent

From the deep, a fish leaps - a silver flash, trailing waterlight.

For a moment... it is Sky-sworn.

Then the arc softens, and it slips beneath the blue again.

No triumph.

No regret.

This…

is 返本归原, Fǎnběn guī yuán. Return to the root. Return to the origin.

Each breath: Form drawn from formlessness - and back again.

Inhale - rising. Exhale - receding.

You too contain moments of surfacing - clarity, longing, reach.

And you too are allowed to return.

There is wisdom in surrender.

[Visual: shimmering fish breaching the surface in slow motion; droplets frozen in the sun, then fading into ripples as it vanishes below]

Boat: The Journey is the Circle, Not the Line

A boat, long at sea, is nearing its home harbor. It's nets at rest.

A lantern swings.

It left port with hunger - It returns with understanding.

The dock emerges from fog, unchanged, but something within the boat is different.

This is not going back.

This is coming home.

This…

is 返本归原, Fǎnběn guī yuán. Return to the root. Return to the origin.

Each breath: Form drawn from formlessness - and back again.

Inhale - rising. Exhale - receding.

You too carry the sea in your wake. Let your arrival be gentle. Let yourself dock without apology.

[Visual: old skiff gliding through gentle mist, lantern casting soft halos, figures onshore welcoming with stillness]

Tide: What Was, Becomes

The tide does not take. It exchanges.

What one shore releases, the other receives.

See how the tide rises - creeping into crevice, barnacle;

Submerging limpet, algae.

See how it withdraws - revealing pools of glinting memory;

Reviewing new dunes of seashell.

Breath is just the same:

Each inhale - gathering. Each exhale - offering.

Give and receive.

Each side of the ocean is the same ocean.

Return is reunion.

This…

is 返本归原, Fǎnběn guī yuán. Return to the root. Return to the origin.

Each breath: Form drawn from formlessness - and back again.

Inhale - rising. Exhale - receding.

[Visual: high-tide time-lapse overtaking rocks, light shifting as clouds pass overhead, stars blinking into view]

Closing: Dwell in the Root

Now all things return -

The wave.

The bird.

The fish.

The boat.

The tide.

All dissolve into silence.

Your personality has also risen -

like the wave, the bird

Like the fish, the boat

Like the tide.

Let it.

And, in its time, let it return.

A Life is just the same:

Each lifetime - a gathering. Each life - an offering.

Here in this stillness - there is no wave.

No self.

No sea.

Only breath. Only origin.

無極, Wújí - that which is not yet anything - because it is everything...and nothing.

This is where you rest.

Beneath form.

Before beginning.

Return to the root.

Inhale - rising.

Return to the origin.

Exhale - receding.

Return to yourself just as Sky returns to dawn.

[Visual: final dissolve to mirrored ocean and sky, still horizon line, all motion suspended - nothing moving but the breath]

Thank you.

🌊

Cultivating Kindness, Compassion, & Empathy

a Buddhist Guided Meditation on Mettā (Lovingkindness)

Music Cue:

as imperfect

by Moby

https://MobyGratis.com

Prologue:

A guided practice for opening the heart and extending Love to all beings

Cultivating Kindness, Compassion, & Empathy

a Buddhist Guided Meditation on Mettā (Lovingkindness)

Preparation

Find a comfortable seated position, either on a cushion, chair, or wherever feels supportive. Allow your spine to be naturally upright, your shoulders soft and relaxed. The jaw softens as well. Close your eyes gently, or perhaps simply soften your gaze as it falls downward.

Take three deep breaths, allowing each exhale to release any tension you’re carrying.

Let your breathing settle into its natural rhythm.

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

Beginning with yourself

We begin this practice by offering lovingkindness to ourselves, for we cannot truly give what we do not possess within. What we cannot locate within.

Place your hand on your heart if that feels comfortable. Feel the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat beneath your palm. Your chest rising and falling with your slowing breath. This is the same heart that has carried you through every moment of your life, the same heart that connects you to all living beings.

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

Bring to mind an image of yourself, or simply rest in the sacred awareness of your own presence.

Now, with genuine warmth and deep honesty, sincerely offer yourself these traditional phrases of Mettā:

May I be happy May I be healthy May I be safe

May I have enough to eat May I live with a heart at ease

Repeat these phrases slowly, allowing each wish to settle into your heart. If resistance arises, that's OK, too. That’s perfectly natural. Simply notice it with kindness and continue. You are worthy of these blessings.

May I be happy May I be healthy May I be safe

May I have enough to eat May I live with a heart at ease...

Extending to a Loved One

Now bring to mind someone you Love easily - perhaps a family member, dear friend, pet, or anyone who makes you smile naturally. See their face, remember their presence, feel the warmth of your connection. The depth of Love's connection.

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

Imagine this beloved one being surrounded by light and Love.

Extend the same heartfelt wishes to them:

May you be happy May you be healthy May you be safe

May you have enough to eat May you live with a heart at ease...

Notice how it feels to send these wishes. Let your heart expand with the joy of loving freely. This is the essence of Mettā - Love that expects nothing in return.

Including a Neutral Person

Next, bring to mind someone neutral - perhaps a cashier you see regularly, a neighbor you barely know, that barista you sometimes see, or someone you passed on the street. This person, like you, has hopes and fears, joys and sorrows. They have their own understanding of things, their own regrets. They too seek happiness and wish to avoid suffering.

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

Recognize this person’s fundamental humanity.

Despite not knowing them well, you can offer them the same genuine wishes:

May you be happy May you be healthy May you be safe

May you have enough to eat May you live with a heart at ease...

This practice helps us see beyond the boundaries of our familiar circles, recognizing that every person enjoys and deserves compassion.

Embracing the Difficult

Now, if you feel ready, bring to mind someone with whom you have difficulty - perhaps someone who has hurt you, annoyed you, or with whom you disagree.

Start with someone only mildly challenging, not your greatest adversary. Begin where you might succeed. Learn, grow, and then rise to meet greater challenges. For now, bring to mind a minor challenge.

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

This is perhaps the most transformative part of the practice. Remember: offering Mettā doesn’t mean condoning harmful actions or becoming a doormat. It means recognizing that this person, despite their flaws, despite the illusions that they may labor under is also a being who experiences pain and seeks happiness. Perhaps often in unskillful ways.

Take a deep breath and, with whatever genuine warmth you can muster, offer:

May you be happy May you be healthy May you be safe

May you have enough to eat May you live with a heart at ease...

If you feel resistance, breathe with it.

Sometimes we must practice with ourselves first: “May I be free from anger. May I be at peace.” This too is Mettā.

Let's try again with our difficult focus...

Remember, repeat these phrases slowly, allowing each wish to settle into your heart. If the expected resistance arises, that's OK, too. We know this is natural. Simply notice the friction with kindness and continue on. You and your challenging subject are worthy of these blessings.

Deep Breath -

“May I be free from anger."

Deep Breath -

"May I be at peace.”

One more deep breath and, with whatever genuine warmth you can muster, offer:

May you be happy May you be healthy May you be safe

May you have enough to eat May you live with a heart at ease...

Deep Breath -

“I know what it is to be free from anger."

Deep Breath -

"I know what it is to be at peace.”

Expanding to All Beings

Finally, let your awareness expand like ripples on a deep, still, and moonlit sea. Begin to include all beings...everywhere. Your family, your friends, your community, those in your city, your country, and across the globe. Your tribe, your human tribe.

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

Include all humans, regardless of age, gender, race, religion. Regardless of education or beliefs. Extend your wishes to animals, from the smallest insects to the largest mammals.

Extend your wishes to plants, from the algae of the seas to the giant redwoods.

Embrace all forms of life with your boundless heart:

May all beings be happy May all beings be healthy May all beings be safe

May all beings have enough to eat May all beings live with a heart at ease...

Feel your heart, now. Your heart is remembering its vast and limitless nature. A true nature capable of holding the entire world in loving awareness. This is your true nature, too - infinite compassion.

Cultivating Empathy and Understanding

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

As you rest in this expanded awareness, reflect on the truth that all beings share the same fundamental desires: to be happy, to be free from suffering, to be Loved and understood. To live a life with a heart at ease...

When we truly understand this, empathy arises naturally. The person who cut you off in traffic, the politician whose views you despise, the difficult family member - all are seeking happiness in their own way, even when their methods seem misguided.

This doesn’t mean we become passive or stop working for justice. Rather, we act from a place of understanding rather than from a place of hatred. Our expanded and compassionate heart is always seeking to heal rather than to harm.

Closing

Breathing:

First in, to somewhere deep within...

Slowly now, the breath departs...

Bring your attention back to your breath, to the sensation of your body sitting here.

Place your hand on your heart again if that feels comfortable. Feel the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat beneath your palm. Your chest rising and falling with your slowed breath. This is the same heart that has carried you through every moment of your life, the same heart that connects you to all living beings.

Feel the warmth that has been generated by this practice settling into every cell of your being. Settling into every portion of your mind.

Know that you can return to these phrases anytime - while stuck in traffic, while dealing with a difficult person, while dealing with infuriating technology, or simply when you want to connect with your heart. Mettā is always available to you.

As you prepare to open your eyes or to lift your gaze and return to your day, carry this intention with you: to see with eyes of compassion, to speak with words of kindness, and to act from a heart that recognizes the connection between all beings.

May your practice bring you peace... May your compassion benefit all beings... May lovingkindness guide your way...

And from my heart to your heart:

May you be happy May you be healthy May you be safe

May you have enough to eat May you live with a heart at ease...

When you’re ready, lift your gaze, or slowly and gently open your eyes.

Thank you.

Now,

check in on what our experience was...

and...

check in on how our experience is.

Om Shanti...

Love...

Epilogue:

Daily Practice Suggestions

* Morning Intention: Begin each day by offering Mettā to yourself and setting an intention to practice compassion.

* Difficult Moments: When facing conflict or frustration, pause and silently offer Mettā to yourself and others involved.

* Walking Meditation: As you walk, silently offer blessings to people you pass: “May you be happy, may you be at peace.”

* Before Sleep: End your day by sending lovingkindness to anyone you had difficulty with, helping you release the day with forgiveness.

Remember: Like any skill, lovingkindness grows stronger with practice. Be patient with yourself as you cultivate this most precious quality of the heart.

Oaks, Acorns, & my Life Purpose

a Dàoist Guided Meditation to Support the Contemplation of Effort & Being

Find a comfortable position and let your eyes fall to closed. Take your time with this.

We would like to be settled, still, and deeply connected to both the Earth and the Air.

Now, that we're settled into quiet and comfortable stillness, we can enjoy our breathing and the story to come.

Let's take three deep breaths, allowing each exhale to release the tensions of the day.

Inhaling deeply:

The tensions of this body...slowly exhaled...

Inhaling deeply:

The tensions of the head...slowly exhaled...

Inhaling deeply:

The tensions of the heart...slowly exhaled...

Keep the inhalations deep.

Keep the exhalations slow.

Keep the breathing going to accompany your comfortable stillness...

And now, a story...

Settling in

Imagine yourself sitting beneath an ancient oak tree, its massive trunk rising like a cathedral pillar behind you. You feel the solid Earth beneath you, soft with decades of fallen leaves. Your back rests against the deeply furrowed bark, each groove and ridge telling stories of the many centuries weathered.

Scattered all around you, on the earthily pungent forest floor, are thousands upon thousands of acorns. Many with their textured caps still atop. They carpet the ground in a rich brown tapestry - some fresh and gleaming, others weathered and split, many already claimed by squirrels and insects. Some green, some brown, some black with age and decay. The abundance is overwhelming.

You pick up a single acorn, and roll its smooth surface between your fingers.

The Numbers Speak

As you sit in this living temple, let your mind contemplate what you know about these humble seed offerings.

This ancient oak, perhaps three hundred years old, has been dropping acorns for nearly its entire life - roughly five thousand each year, year after year. Across its long lifetime, it has offered perhaps 1.5 million acorns to the world.

And of all these countless offerings, statistical probability tells us that only about 150 will ever reach reproductive maturity. But even that number tells only part of the story - ecological competition and the limits of carrying capacity mean that realistically, only one to five of this tree's offspring will actually establish themselves as mature oaks in this forest.

One in ten thousand. One in a hundred thousand. The statistics are humbling. The odds are staggering.

Most acorns will never even sprout. Others will emerge as tender shoots only to be claimed by drought, disease, or hungry creatures. A precious few will grow into saplings, only to face decades more of competition, storms, and the countless trials that stand between acorn and a parental oak.

Your own Efforts

Let your awareness turn inward now. Consider your own life's efforts - the projects begun with hope, the relationships cultivated with care, the dreams planted with tenderness. How many of your own seeds have faced odds similar to the acorn, the oak? How many of your own attempts have withered before bearing fruit?

Perhaps you are now feeling the weight of unrealized potential, of efforts that seemed to vanish without trace. The job applications that disappeared into silence. The creative works that found no audience. The kindnesses offered that seemed to make no difference. The Love given that was not returned.

Notice any feelings that arise - disappointment, frustration, perhaps a temptation to calculate whether your efforts are "worth it." Let these feelings exist without judgment; these feelings are but acorns scattered on your forest floor. Humble seed offerings...

The Oak's Wisdom

Now bring your attention back to the great tree sheltering you. Feel its presence, solid and unwavering. This oak knows nothing of statistics. It has never read an environmental impact study or calculated probabilities of success. It does not survey the forest floor counting its failures or measuring its return on investment.

And yet...here it stands.

Magnificent.

Supportive.

Ancient.

Perfectly itself.

Every Spring, without hesitation or doubt, it sends forth its flowers. Every Autumn, without reservation or despair, it releases its acorns. It does not hold back because the odds are poor. It does not produce fewer acorns because most will not survive. It does not cease being an oak because the world is difficult.

The oak simply oaks.

Completely.

Unreservedly.

Year after year after year.

The Way of 自然, Zìran

Feel yourself settling deeper into this understanding. The Dàoists have a word for this oak's way of being: Zìran - naturalness, spontaneity, being so aligned with one's essential nature that action flows without force or artifice. Zìran is unforced naturalness, what we might term natural naturalness.

Like the oak, you need not know the outcome of your efforts to make them fully. To make them sincerely. You need not guarantee success to give your gifts completely. To give your gifts sincerely. You need not count the returns to justify the investment of your being.

Your nature is to grow, to reach, to offer what you have to offer. Not because it will surely succeed, but because it is what you are. The Teacher teaches. The Artist creates. The parent Loves. The friend supports. Not because the statistics are favorable, but because this is the shape of their being - their Zìran.

Being Perfectly yourself

Rest now in the shadow of this ancient wisdom.

You, like the oak, can be perfectly yourself:

Naturally natural.

Sincerely sincere.

Resplendent without the weight of artifice.

You can offer your gifts without attachment to outcomes. You can plant your seeds - of kindness, creativity, effort, Love - knowing that the planting itself is complete and perfect, regardless of what grows. Or what decays. Or what dies.

All that decays, comes to feed the followings seeds.

The oak does not agonize over the acorns that do not sprout. It does not withhold future acorns because of past failures. Each season, it simply returns to its nature - its Zìran - offering what it has to offer with the quiet confidence of something that knows exactly what it is, without calculation or hesitation.

Authenticity.

A being that honors its true being.

Naturally natural.

Returning to the World

Take a moment to imagine yourself standing up from beneath this ancient oak. As you prepare to return to your daily life, commit to carrying with you this tree's patient wisdom. You can meet your days like the oak meets its seasons - fully present, generous in your offerings, unattached to outcomes beyond your control. All outcomes are beyond your control.

When efforts seem to disappear without result, remember the forest floor beneath this oak. When dreams seem to wither, remember that some seeds sleep in the soil for years before conditions are right for growth. When the odds seem impossible, remember that the oak has faced impossible odds for centuries and continues, simply and perfectly, to be itself.

Naturally natural.

Take three deep breaths. Feel the ground beneath you, the entire Earth here at your feet.

Shake your arms, your branches.

Hear some acorns fall.

Wiggle your fingers and toes, your roots.

When you're ready, gently open your eyes.

Commit to carrying the oak's quiet confidence in naturalness into whatever awaits you.

The way of the oak is not about success or failure. It is about Zìran - being so completely, naturally yourself that your very existence becomes an offering to the world, regardless of outcomes, statistics, or the countless variables beyond anyone's control.

Thank you.

This Guided Meditation offers to guide the meditator through three phases:

* The Silent Watcher – Cultivating stillness, sharpening awareness like the owl in waiting.

* Piercing the Veil – Developing intuition and clarity, embracing the owl’s penetrating sight.

* Balance of Light and Shadow – Integrating wisdom and mystery, harmonizing insight with uncertainty.

Please be sure to give a listen to a shorter version of this hosted over on my Swellcast channel:

https://www.swellcast.com/t/O1UmQjljGMQUHDs

Prologue:

The owl held a complex and often contradictory role in ancient Chinese symbolism, spanning philosophy, folklore, medicine, and Martial Arts.

The owl offers a many-layered symbolism - its dual nature as wisdom and omen, its silent precision, and a connection to deep insight. As such, the owl has formed the foundation of this Guided Meditation that explores perception, intuition, & balance.

Philosophy & Folklore

* In early dynasties like the 商朝, Shāng Cháo - Shang Dynasty (1600–1046 BCE) and 周朝, Zhōu Cháo- Zhou dynasty (1046–256 BCE), owls were sometimes revered as protectors and symbols of power. Bronze vessels shaped like owls suggest ritualistic significance, possibly linked to funerary rites.

* However, later traditions viewed owls as harbingers of misfortune. Their nocturnal nature and eerie calls led to associations with death and ill omens. Some folklore even depicted young owls as unfilial, claiming they pecked out their mothers' eyes before leaving the nest.

* Despite these ominous interpretations, owls were also linked to wisdom and mystery, much as they have been in other cultures.

Medicine & Healing

* In traditional Chinese medicine (TCM), owls were sometimes associated with spiritual insight and protective energies. Their keen vision and ability to navigate darkness symbolized clarity and foresight, qualities valued in healing practices.

* Some regions believed owl effigies could ward off gods spirits and protect homes from fire and destruction, linking them to thunder and lightning gods.

Martial Arts & Symbolism

* In Martial Arts, the owl’s sharp vision, patience, and silent precision made it a fitting metaphor for stealth and awareness. Some schools of thought likened its hunting techniques to strategic combat, emphasizing waiting for the right moment to strike.

* The owl’s association with Yáng energy in 風水, Fēngshui also made it a symbol of strength and resilience, reinforcing its role in martial philosophy.

Substack Music Cue:

The Owl’s Gaze

a Guided Meditation infused with Dàoist imagery, qì cultivation, and the wisdom of the owl.

Introduction – Entering the Flow of Qì

Find a quiet space where you can sit comfortably. Let your spine be tall but relaxed, like a bamboo stalk - supple, yet strong.

Closing eyes slowly...

Breathing slowly, too...

Eyes now softly closed.

Presence...

Breathing easily...

Presence...

Breathing slowly...

The world softens, soon dissolving into a deepening stillness.

Presence...

Deeply breathing...

Before the owl takes flight, before the wind stirs the leaves, before the stars whisper their sacred songs - there is stillness.

Take a deep inhale through your nose…slow and deliberate. A breath drawn as if from the cool mist rolling over the mountain range. Hold this breath - like water pooling in a still basin. Then, exhale through your mouth...effortlessly. Releasing tension with the exhalation like Autumn's spent leaves drifting into a slow flowing stream.

Let your breath follow its own rhythm, flowing as the 道, Dào flows.

A breath like the wind over an ancient lake. A ripple in the Great Silence.

Let us begin.

The Silent Watcher – Cultivating Stillness

Breathe slowly, now.

As slow as the lazy tides beneath the moon’s quiet gaze.

The owl waits, perched atop a twisted cypress,

its gnarled roots tangled in the Earth's wisdom,

its needles whispering near-forgotten truths.

The owl does not chase the wind - it listens to its passing. The owl does not strain against the night - it rests within it.

With each inhale, draw in 氣, Qì - the life force that pulses through rivers, trees, and stars. Feel it...settle in your lower 丹田, Dāntián, your center of energy - there at the core of your Being. Hold this fresh breath.

Warming it like a mother owl nesting atop her clutch of eggs. With each exhale, release unnecessary thoughts. Let them dissolve like morning mist over a temple rooftop. Bell sounds and incense smoke sharing the sacred airs there.

You become the owl - still, aware, undisturbed.

Darkness pools in the Valley below - not emptiness. A landscape unseen, and waiting.

Breathe in again, steady as the river carving her banks through the ceaseless seasons of uncounted eons. Hold. Breathe out, resting in this quiet awareness.

This darkness is not emptiness - it is the depth beneath the surface, the quiet chamber within the Mountain, the moment before thunder speaks.

Your breath is the river - flowing, adapting, never forced.

Breathe deeply.

Wait. Listen.

Your breath, the river - fluid, flowing, & flexible.

Breathe deeply.

Wait. Listen.

Piercing the Veil – Developing Intuition and Clarity

Let your breath become longer, smoother, like a lantern’s glow stretching across the still water's of the mountain range's Valley lake.

With each inhale, imagine the owl’s golden eyes.

Your golden eyes.

Eyesight sharpening.

Clarity of vision a birthright.

The owl does not guess - it knows. The owl does not fear the unknown.

The owl sees what was hidden.

With each exhale, release resistance...

Let understanding come into view, into focus.

Sink into 無為, Wú Wéi - frictionless action, a flowing with the natural way.

Breathe in deeply, drawing clarity into your mind. Hold, steady. Breathe out, releasing uncertainty into the night.

Your darkness - whether ignorance, sorrow, or the unknown - is not an obstacle.

It is the empty space that makes the cup useful, the hollow flute that allows sound to emerge.

Your darkness is the ink-black sky where stars can be seen most clearly.

The owl does not judge the night - it moves within it.

(You are now the owl.)

This darkness is the silent wisdom of an unlit temple.

Breathing...

Presence...

Breathing...

Now, gently turn your head to the left, the owl’s gaze.

Pause.

Now, turn to the right, slow and deliberate, again the owl’s gaze.

Your gaze.

Breathing...

This motion, known as 五劳七伤, Wǔlǎo Qīshāng, or Wise Owl Gazes Backward, releases tension, clears the mind, & opens perception.

What truth lies beyond the veil? Let it reveal itself in stillness.

Breathing...

Presence...

Breathing...

Balance of Light and Shadow – Harmonizing Wisdom and Mystery

Let your breath settle - soft, effortless.

The owl does not fight the night - it embraces it.

(You are now the owl.)

The owl finds harmony in both light and shadow.

(You are now the owl.)

The owl finds sustenance in the depths of darkness.

(You are now the owl.)

Breathing...

Presence...

Breathing...

Inhale, gathering qì -as effortlessly as dew forming on wild chrysanthemums... Hold, now - letting it permeate your being. Exhale, distributing energy evenly, like a steady mountain wind flickering candles in the cliffside temple.

Wisdom and mystery are not enemies - they are the 阴阳, Yīn-Yáng, the Mountain and the Valley, The moment of clarity before dawn, when the sky is neither dark nor light.

When the dark is neither dark nor light.

When the light is neither dark nor light.

Breathing...

Presence.

You are not lost in the unknown. You move with it, effortlessly, Carrying newfound understanding like the owl gliding over these mist-covered hills.

With your final inhale, welcome the gift of the owl - clarity within uncertainty. Hold. Exhale - returning.

Awake, transformed.

Assured of your vision.

Closing – Returning to the Present

Let your breath return to its natural rhythm, as soft as ripples in a moonlit puddle.

Reach your wings, turn your neck, open your eyes.

Breathing...

Presence.

Now, wiggle your fingers, roll your shoulders gently - preparing to return to the waking world.

Breathing...

Presence.

When you’re ready, perhaps a smile.

The night no longer holds fear - it holds knowledge, clarity, depth, even confidence.

Breathing...

Presence.

You possess a vision which penetrates fear, which penetrates darkness.

You possess a vision which dissolves fear, which dissolves darkness.

Thank you.

Prologue:

"Rice in the Bowl, Water in the Bucket" is a Zen (in Chinese, Chán) expression that embodies the principle of accepting things exactly as they are, without adding mental elaboration or seeking hidden meaning. The phrase points to the direct, immediate reality of ordinary things performing their natural function.

The saying appears in various forms throughout Zen literature, particularly in the records of 唐, Táng and 宋, Sòng dynasty Chinese masters. It's closely related to similar expressions like "When hungry, eat; when tired, sleep." and both reveals and reflects Zen's usual emphasis on naturalness and non-conceptual awareness. The phrase gained particular prominence through the Teachings of masters in the Rinzai (臨濟宗, Línjì zōng, in Chinese) tradition, though it appears across different Zen lineages.

In Zen teaching, this expression serves multiple pedagogical purposes. It counters the tendency to seek profound spiritual meaning in every experience, instead pointing students toward the inherent completeness of ordinary moments. When a student might ask about the ultimate nature of reality or the essence of Buddha-nature, a master might respond with this phrase to redirect attention away from abstract speculation toward immediate, concrete experience.

The teaching method reflects a core Zen Principle: enlightenment isn't found by transcending the mundane world but by fully inhabiting it without the overlay of conceptual thinking. Rice nourishes because that's its function; water quenches thirst because that's its nature. There's no elusive or inapparent spiritual significance beyond this fundamental reality.

Masters have used variations of this phrase to address students who become overly intellectual in their approach to practice, or who search for mystical experiences while missing the profound ordinariness of their immediate circumstances. It's particularly effective in cutting through what Zen calls 求心, Kyūshin - Seeking Mind" - the restless mental activity that prevents recognition of what's already present.

The phrase also connects to the broader Zen aesthetic of finding the sacred within the mundane, influencing everything from tea ceremony to garden design. It represents a distinctly Zen approach to spirituality that doesn't separate the absolute from the relative, but finds them perfectly undivided and present in the simple functioning of daily life.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Wherever and whenever one might look; no magic mind-state, no special time needed!

Music Cue:

Tags:

#Visualization #SomedayFarm #GuidedMeditation #Buddhism #Zen #Simplicity #SanBao

End Notes:

A related and more brief version of this is available free at:

https://www.swellcast.com/t/O1UmEhyfoQ8ltvP

Rice in the Bowl, Water in the Bucket

a Zen Guided Meditation

Settling into Presence

Find a comfortable seated position. Allow your spine to be naturally upright like a centuries-still mountain sentinel...quietly reaching toward a clear and expansive sky. Close your eyes gently, or simply soften your gaze as it falls toward the floor.

Take three slow breaths, not trying to make them special or profound - simply breathing as breathing happens.

...and sit as sitting happens.

The Bowl of Rice

Imagine before you a simple, wooden bowl filled with white rice. See it clearly: the smooth grain, the gentle mound it forms, the way each kernel rests against the others. This rice asks nothing of you. It makes no promises of enlightenment. It simply is what it is - nourishment, sustenance, the meeting of Earth and Sky, of rains and human hands.

Notice if your mind begins to search for deeper meaning in this image. When it does, gently return to this sublimely simple fact: rice in bowl. Nothing more, nothing less. Let this ordinariness fill your awareness completely.

Notice if your mind offers to muse on the rice's fragrance when freshly cooked. Or offers to imagine the curls of steam rising from this fluffy foodstuff.

The rice doesn't try to be anything other than rice. It doesn't strain toward becoming something sacred or special. In its complete acceptance of its own nature, it reveals a profound Teaching without Teaching, a wisdom without words.

The bowl receives, contains. The rice, free of want or urge.

The Bucket of Water

Now bring to mind a wooden bucket filled with clear water. See it clearly: the translucency, the refractions, the reflections. Note how the water adopts the precise shape of its container, neither fighting against the boundaries nor trying to escape them. The water simply expresses its essential nature - flowing, adapting, nourishing. It mirrors nearby movement with ripples, it reflects far-off change in its surface. It always returns to level and stillness - without reminder, without effort, without hesitation.

This rice asks nothing of you. It makes no promises of enlightenment. It simply is what it is - rains, rivers, glaciers, clouds...

Watch the stillness of this water. On its surface, perhaps you see the reflection of Sky, of clouds drifting by. Perhaps a bird, perhaps self you spy. The water doesn't grasp at these reflections, doesn't try to hold onto the beauty that appears and disappears. It simply receives what comes, mirrors what is present, and lets go without effort.

Does your mind offer to imagine cooking with the water, or watering a garden? Does your mind offer to imagine its temperature, its weight? If it does, gently return to this sublimely simple fact: water in bucket. Nothing more, nothing less. Let this ordinariness fill your awareness completely.

This water has no ambition to be ocean or stream. It rests completely in being exactly what it is, where it is. In this total acceptance, it demonstrates perfect freedom.

Ordinary Completeness

As you sit in meditation, notice the tendency of your mind to search...for something special, for some profound experience, for insight. This is expected, this is common.

When this seeking does arise, return to the Teaching of rice and water: complete fulfillment exists in being exactly what you are, where you are, in this moment. In this very moment.

Your breath moves in and out - not striving to be holy breath or enlightened breath, simply breath being breath. Your breath has no need to please your ego, your Teacher, your Ancestors. Your heartbeat continues its rhythm - not trying to be spiritual or meaningful, just the heart doing what hearts do.

Rice.

Water.

Let yourself rest in this ordinariness:

Rest.

Breathe.

Sit.

Rest.

Breathe.

Sit.

Rest.

Breathe.

Sit.

Feel how the pressure to achieve something special begins to dissolve:

The rice doesn't need to become a flower to be perfect.

The water doesn't need to become tea to be essential.

You don't need to curtail being some particular way to be complete.

You don't need to be some particular way to be complete.

You don't need to become someone else to be complete.

Rice.

Water.

Rest.

Breathe.

Sit.

Rice.

Water.

The Kitchen of Awakening

Imagine yourself in a simple kitchen, preparing a meal. See it clearly: the counter, the window, the fire. You scoop rice into the bowl - just rice in the bowl. You pour water into the bucket - just water in the bucket. Each action is complete in itself, requiring nothing more than full presence to what is happening.

Feel the weight of the rice as you pour it. Hear the sound of water filling the bucket. These sensations don't point to anything beyond themselves. They are the very substance of awakened life, dressed in the clothes of daily routine.

Your mind may invite itself to take a wander-walk and imagine more than just this rice - as it is. Than just this water - as it is. If it does, gently return to these sublimely simple Teachings, these Teachers:

Rice.

Water.

In this kitchen, enlightenment isn't something you achieve - it's something you live, breath by breath, action by action. The sacred and the ordinary reveal themselves as one seamless, simple reality.

Rest.

Breathe.

Sit.

Returning to Simple Beingness

As this meditation draws to a close, let go of any effort to hold onto insights or special states. Like the rice that doesn't cling to its container, like the water that flows freely, allow your meditation experience to be what it was - no more, no less.

Every every every moment of this livingness offers the same completeness as rice in the bowl, water in the bucket. Washing dishes, walking to work, listening to a friend - each activity contains the same profound ordinariness that holds all of life.

Rice.

Water.

Rest.

Breathe.

Sit.

Rice.

Water.

Take three natural breaths. When you're ready, gently lift your gaze or open your eyes and return to the world, carrying nothing special, needing nothing more than what you already are.

The rice remains rice. The water remains water. You remain perfectly, completely yourself.

In this simplicity, all seeking ceases.

Thank you.

This Guided Meditation is

a part of Someday Farm's

Companion for Practice series

where a familiar and friendly voice offers a guided meditation and some gentle practice reminders and cues. For the student who has learned a practice and is ready to devote themselves to a prescribed duration of said practice. A voice to go on the journey with you and within you.

Choose a practice you've learned, choose a duration, and invite Someday Farm into practice through your ears and mind and heart.

Caution:

This Guided Meditation is only intended to be a supportive companion for someone engaged in a well-understood Horse Stance training session. If at any point, it becomes inappropriate or unwise for you to continue your training session, discontinue it. Please do not misconstrue this Guided Meditation as an encouragement to continue. Suspend or end when your circumstances suggest it - not when I conclude the meditation.

Enjoy!

Prologue:

For 1, 3, & 5 minute versions of this Guided Meditation intended to serve you at varying Practice session durations, please join me (for free) at: https://www.swellcast.com/shhdragon. There I've marked each using the hashtag #Companion4Practice to make the relevant Guided Meditations more readily findable.

Versions:

The Mountain Horse - 5 min

https://www.swellcast.com/t/O1UlfS1vBhGEkGy

The Mountain Horse - 3 min

https://www.swellcast.com/t/O1UlfPujrVCE5tP

The Mountain Horse - 1 min

https://www.swellcast.com/t/O1UlfQ0PBUN36kh

Music cue:

The Mountain Horse:

a Deep Meditation to Accompany Horse Stance Practice

(Begin by settling into your horse stance - knees bent to create a stable base, thighs parallel to the Earth or stand a bit taller, spine erect, and arms in your preferred position. Take several natural breaths before beginning the meditation.)

Earthen Foundation

Sink your weight into the vast Earth beneath you, Your feet spreading like the roots of an ancient bamboo grove. Feel each toe fully connect with the ground...gently, Creating ten pathways for Earth's energy to rise.

Your stance widens like a mountain range, Each leg a separate peak with a shared foundation. In the space between, feel a cauldron forming, A vessel to collect and transform primal force.

The Bubbling Springs of your feet now activate, Drawing minerals and energies from soil and stone. You are not standing on the Earth, but becoming it - The boundary between body and ground dissolving.

The Crucible of Transformation

Your thighs burn with the sacred fire of discipline, Each moment a choice to endure and transcend. The burning is not your enemy, rather your Teacher, Consuming weakness, distilling intent, refining strength.

Imagine your legs as twin pillars of iron, Heated in the forge: first becoming malleable, then strong. Pain transforms into vibrant heat, then stable power, The caldera's alchemical process and the Warrior's Body.

Feel the trembling muscles steadying with each breath, Like wild horses being gentled under your command. The shaking is not failure but awakening, New neural pathways forming with each moment of intentional Presence.

Breathe in - root deep, the great mountain grows. Breathe out - release, the mountain spring flows.Breathe in - fire refines, strength takes shape. Breathe out - soft surrender, presence awake.

The Empty Basin

Your pelvis forms a perfect basin, Tilted neither forward nor back, but centered in balance. Feel this bowl filling with liquid light, A reservoir of energy gathered and contained.

Your tailbone descends toward the Earth's core, Creating space for your spine to lengthen skyward. The sacrum becomes a solid foundation stone, Upon which your column of vertebrae rises.

Imagine the space between your hip joints widening, Creating room for energy to circulate without obstruction. The Kuà opens like double gates to a hidden garden, Where intention can flow freely between upper and lower.

Breathe in - Earth steadies, firm and vast. Breathe out - fire tempers as pain dissolves. Breathe in - Qì rises, strength unfolds. Breathe out - weight sinks, spirit holds.

The Central Tower

Your spine ascends like a tower of light, Each vertebra stacking perfectly upon the one below. Feel the spaces between them expanding slightly, Allowing energy to flow like wind between mountain peaks.

Your lower back gently curves inward, Not exaggerated, but natural and supportive. This gentle hollow creates a cradle for your kidneys, Ancient storehouses of primal essence and will.

From this central column, all movement originates, All force transmits, all balance maintains. In stillness now, you align this precious tower, The axis around which your martial universe revolves.

Breathe in - passive mountain quiet, steady and strong. Breathe out - cool river long, flowing along.Breathe in - fire bright, lighting the way. Breathe out - softened stone, soft as clay.

The Dragon's Pearl

In the lower abdomen, just below the navel and deep within, Feel a sphere of concentrated awareness forming. This is your Dāntián, your center of gravity, The pearl that the dragon of your body protects.

With each inhale, golden light streams into this center, With each exhale, it condenses, grows denser, more real. This is not just imagination but energetic truth - The creation of your stable center through intent and breath.

Feel how all tensions of your stance flow toward this point, How all lines of force converge in this singular space. Your Dāntián becomes both anchor and generator, The place where Heaven and Earth energies combine.

Breathe in - fire glows, spirit flows. Breathe out - weight steadies, mindfire readies. Breathe in - posture rises, breathwork energizes. Breathe out - mindwind shifts, presence never drifts.

The Warrior's Frame

Your shoulders widen like the spreading wings of an eagle, Neither tensed upward nor collapsed downward. Feel them floating on invisible currents of air, Supported by the structure beneath, not by contractile effort.

Your chest neither protrudes with pride nor sinks with doubt, But maintains the perfect Middle Way of the warrior. Feel the sternum lifting slightly, creating space for breath, While the heart remains protected yet open.

Your arms, whether raised in guard or held at sides, Emerge from your deep heart center, not just from shoulders. Each finger alive with intention, each wrist supple yet strong, The frame of your upper body both substantial and light.

Breathe in - fire grows, breathing slows. Breathe out - weight grounds, calm surrounds. Breathe in - thighs quiver, Qì flows as a mighty river Breathe out - Intention flows, center always knows.

The Breath Bridge

Bring awareness now to the pattern of your breathing, How it changes and adjusts to the demands of your stance. Allow it to deepen, to reach the bottom of your lungs, Then to sink further, massaging your internal organs.

Feel how inhalation naturally straightens your spine, How exhalation helps you sink deeper into your stance. The breath becomes a bridge between effort and ease, Between the demands of discipline and the gift of release.

Imagine now that you breathe not just through nose and mouth, But through every pore of your skin, every cell of your body. Your entire being becomes a breathing entity, Exchanging energy with the universe that surrounds you.

Breathe in - Ancestors Teach, wisdom flows. Breathe out - roots reach, strength grows. Breathe in - stance holds, fire refines. Breathe out - mind clears, spirit aligns.

The Diamond Mind

As physical sensations intensify in your stance, Your mind becomes the still observer of this unfolding drama. Like a diamond reflecting all yet changed by nothing, Your awareness remains pristine amid changing sensations.

Notice thoughts that arise - of discomfort, of time passing, Of achievements desired or limitations feared. These are merely clouds crossing the vast sky of mind, Neither suppressed nor indulged, but simply witnessed.

In this witnessing lies the warrior's greatest power: The capacity to choose a response rather than a reaction. Your body may be fixed in form, but your mind remains free, This is the paradox and purpose of your standing practice.

Breathe in - Ancestors guide, stance stable. Breathe out - roots reach, fires enable. Breathe in - Qì stirs, strength aligns. Breathe out - mind clears, presence refines.

The Timeless Moment

As you hold this stance, time begins to transform, Seconds stretching into spaces of infinite potential. You stand not just in physical space but at a crossroads, Where Ancestors' wisdom meets your present willpower.

Feel the lineage of countless practitioners before you, Who have held this same position through centuries. Their energy supports you, their discoveries guide you, Your patient stance honoring their dedicated paths.

In this seemingly static posture lies all motion, In this singular practice, all techniques find their source. The horse stance contains the seeds of ten thousand movements, Just as the mountain contains countless streams yet to flow.

Breathe in - wisdom speaks, center holds. Breathe out - roots reach, force unfolds. Breathe in - stance deepens, time slows. Breathe out - form settles, power flows.

Breathe in - Ancestors call, wisdom stays. Breathe out - roots always reach, strength never sways. Breathe in - stance deepens, Qì expands. Breathe out - fire defines, presence stands.

Returning to Movement

As we prepare to conclude this guided meditation, Gather all awareness back to your central core. Feel once more the totality of your horse stance, The integrated system of energy and intent.

Breathe in - guidance speaks, spirit remembers. Breathe out - roots drink, power from embers. Breathe in - form settles, breath expands. Breathe out - mind clears, center commands.

Recognize that ending the stance is not an escape, But a transition, carrying its qualities forward. The strength, stability, & centered awareness Will infuse all movements that follow.

Breathe in - mountain still, forces rise. Breathe out - roots entwine, body wise. Breathe in - energy stirs, stance holds. Breathe out - wisdom flows, heart unfolds.

Breathe in - Ancestors whisper, stance remains. Breathe out - roots extend, strength sustains. Breathe in - fire pulses, presence grows. Breathe out - Qì settles, balance flows.

When you are ready, slowly straighten your legs, Rising from the depths with newfound power. The mountain horse now lives within you, Available in every step, every stance, every breath.

(Take three deep breaths to complete the practice.)

Thank you.