for Darrell and with thanks to Michael:

Prologue & Teaching

ADHD minds often experience a constant flow of thoughts, ideas, & impulses that can feel overwhelming. But there's a profound truth that can be liberating: you are not your thoughts. You are the awareness that notices the thoughts.

Think of your mind like a busy river. The water is always moving - sometimes rapidly, sometimes with swirling eddies, sometimes carrying debris. ADHD can make this river particularly active and unpredictable. But you are not the river; you are the riverbed itself. You are where the river's action flows, and on occasion you may even experience a drought of mental activity. Being the riverbed, however, you know the rains will come again. As the riverbed, watching it all flow by.

This meditation practice isn't about stopping the river or making it flow differently. It's about recognizing that riverbed support the passing of the river and isn't ever entirely swept away by it. The riverbed experienced and observes the water's passing.

This is particularly valuable for the ADHD brain because it:

1. Acknowledges that your mind's natural activity doesn't need to be "fixed."

2. Creates a small space between you and your thoughts.

3. Practices intentional focus without fighting against your brain's nature.

When we practice this kind of meditation, we're not trying to empty the mind or achieve perfect stillness. We're simply training our awareness to notice what's happening without getting lost in it. This one-minute practice can serve as an anchor throughout your day - a brief moment to step onto the riverbank and observe the flow before reengaging.

Music Cue:

https://youtu.be/06hhwrVSBPg

The Wind Chime - Transforming Change into Harmony

Preparation

Begin by settling into a balanced posture, whether seated in meditation or lying in receptive stillness. In either case, allow your body to find its natural alignment, as if suspended between Heaven and Earth, between Sky nd Soil, between the Insubstantial and the Substantial. This is much like the Dàoist concept of existing in the space between absolute Yīn and pure Yáng. Close your eyes gently, turning your awareness inward to the rhythm of your breath.

You're taking a deep, slow breath in… filling your lungs completely… and then releasing it slowly. You're feeling the tension begin to melt away.

Let's take a few more deep breaths, each one bringing us further into the present moment.

In…and out…

Let go...

Take a deep, conscious breath through your nostrils, feeling the Qì - the vital life force - entering your body and filling your lower Dāntián. The lower Dāntián is the energy center below your navel and about halfway between your belly and back.

Hold briefly at the peak of inhalation, allowing the energy to gather.

Then release through slightly parted lips, expelling stale energy and creating space for renewal. Feel the natural cycle of ebb and flow, of fullness and emptiness.

In… and out… deep breaths held at the peak of inbreath to gather Qì.

Letting go...

Continue this mindful breathing, following the Dàoist Principle of 無為, Wúwéi - acting with a consciousness devoted to leaving the least disturbance. Do not force your breath; instead, allow it to find its natural depth and rhythm. With each cycle, feel yourself becoming more aligned with the Dào, the underlying Principle that connects all things.

Setting the Scene

I now invite you to imagine yourself in a landscape of perfect balance - perhaps a mountain valley where mist rises to meet descending sunlight, embodying the interplay of Yīn and Yáng. Perhaps a dragon swims in this fog. The Five Elements surround you in harmony: Metal glints as sunlight finds distant rocks, Water flows in a nearby stream and farther off rivers, Wood thrives in ancient trees, Fire warms in gentle sunlight, and Earth supports you from below.

Deep breaths held briefly to nurture energy's cultivation.

In…and out…

Letting go...

With each inhalation, draw in the pure Qì of this balanced environment.

With each exhalation, release that which disturbs your harmonious nature.

Feel your breath creating a subtle current of energy that connects you to the eternal cycle of creation and transformation.

Deep breaths held briefly:

In…

Held...

Out…

always letting go...

Becoming the Wind Chime

Now, as you continue your rhythmic breathing, visualize your consciousness transforming. You are becoming a wind chime - an embodiment of the Dàoist Principle of emptiness that allows for fullness.

See yourself crafted from the perfect wind chime material - perhaps crystal, symbolizing purity or perhaps jade symbolizing creativity, or maybe ancient bronze, connecting you to Ancestral wisdom. The material itself matters less than its resonant quality, its ability to transform energy from one state to another.

Deep breaths...

always letting go...

...always imagining...

You are suspended from a single, luminous thread that connects you to Tiān, the Heavens or Sky above - the realm of pure Yáng energy. This thread, though seemingly delicate, carries the strength of intention and represents your connection to the universal Dào. Feeeeeel how it anchors you to the cosmic breath that flows through all creation.

Below, your form extends toward Dì, the Earth or Soil, embodying the receptive quality of Yīn energy. You hang in perfect Wújí - the state of primordial emptiness from which all potential emerges. Feeeeel the Earth beneath you, its pull, its presence. Neither grasping nor resisting, you exist in the dynamic balance of paradox: suspended yet free, structured yet flowing, present yet boundless. Both born and built.

The Winds of Thought

Now, become aware of the winds that move around you. In Dàoist philosophy, we might say that these represent the ever-changing nature of thought and emotion. These ever-shifting inner experience of life that is the internal weather of consciousness. Each breath you take synchronizes with these winds, creating harmony between your inner and outer worlds.

Breathe in naturally...and deeply.

Hold briefly with a sense of your intention cradled lovingly.

Breathe out just as naturally...and fully.

Notice how some winds come as gentle Yīn currents - soft, yielding, & receptive. They brush against you with whispers of intuition and reflection. Echoes, memories, daydreams. With each meditative breath, welcome these subtle energies.

Other winds arrive with more Yáng qualities - assertive, direct, & transformative. They carry the energy of inspiration and clarity. Plans, Concerns, Ideas. Feel how your breathing remains steady even as these stronger currents pass through your awareness.

Breathe in naturally...and deeply.

Hold briefly with a sense of your intention cradled lovingly.

Breathe out just as naturally...and fully.

Observe the winds in all their variations without attachment or aversion - practicing the Dàoist virtue of Wúwéi. Some slight. Some brief. Some sudden. Some notable. Some just about perceptible. Some lingering.

Your breath remains the constant anchor, the returning point amidst all change. When thoughts become turbulent, deepen your breath to center in stillness. When thoughts grow sluggish, lighten your breath to invite movement.

Breathe in naturally...and deeply.

Hold briefly with a sense of your intention cradled lovingly.

Breathe out just as naturally...and fully.

Transformation into Music

As you continue your rhythmic breathing, experience how you, as the wind chime, embody the Dàoist Principle of spontaneous transformation.

Each time the wind - a thought or emotion - touches you, it is naturally transformed. This is not through effort or control, but through your essential nature - your Dé, or inherent virtue. You do not resist the wind; you do not pursue the wind. You simply allow your true nature to manifest, making harmony from the unpatterned. Transforming the erratic into the ecstatic.

Breathe in...

Hold briefly...

Breathe out...

The sounds that emerge represent the harmonious interplay of the Five Elements within you: Metal's clarity, Water's adaptability, Wood's growth, Fire's illumination, and Earth's stability.

Breathe in...

Hold briefly...

Breathe out...

Recall the Metal glinting on those rocks, the Waters flowing in the nearby stream, the wise, old Wood swaying in tree form nearby, the Fire felt in the sunlight on your skin, your tuning into the Earth felt beneath your body. These elements remain with you. Emotions visit. Thoughts visit. We breath as a wind chime. From the winds - these thoughts and feelings - transformation!

Music emerges. Music representing the harmonious dance of the Five Elements within you:

Metal's clarity,

Water's adaptability,

Wood's growth,

Fire's illumination,

and Earth's stability.

Each breath supports this alchemical process of transformation. With each meditative breath, welcome these subtle energies.

Breathe in...

Hold briefly...

Breathe out...

Feel how the Yīn breath of inhalation gathers energy, and the Yáng breath of exhalation releases transformed sound. This rhythm mirrors the cosmic cycle of transformation that underlies all of existence according to Dàoist wisdom.

Listen to the chimes.

Breathe.

Be the chimes.

Breathe.

Be.

Breathe...

Effortless Harmony

Experience the profound 無為, Wúwéi - undisturbing action - of this process. Your transformation of the random into beauty requires no striving, no technique, no method. No mind. It arises naturally from your alignment with the Dào.

With each breath, deepen your connection to this state of effortless being.

Inhale the understanding that Wúwéi action is the highest form of action.

Exhale any remnants of forced effort or control.

Breathe in...

Hold briefly...

Breathe out...

Feel how you exist in the state that Dàoists call Zìran - naturalness or spontaneity. Like water finding its level or a plant growing toward sunlight, your transformation of unpredictable change into harmony is simply your nature expressing itself.

Your breathing embodies this Principle - it continues without your conscious direction, yet you can bring awareness to it, merging intention with natural process. This is the breathing of one who walks the path of Dào - conscious yet uncontrived, aware yet unforced.

Listen to the chimes.

Breathe.

Be the chimes.

Breathe.

Be.

Breathe...

Finding Peace in the Music

As your breath continues its gentle rhythm, experience the Dàoist concept of returning to the original nature - 返本, Făn Běn. The music created through you is not something new or manufactured; it is the revelation of an inherent harmony that was always present within changes and shiftings.

With each inhalation, gather the scattered Qì of thoughts.

With each exhalation, release it as harmonized energy.

With each inhalation, gather the scattered Qì of emotions.

With each exhalation, release it as harmonized energy.

With each inhalation, gather the scattered Qì of this World.

With each exhalation, release it as harmonized energy.

Inhaling the disorganized...

Exhaling musicality...

This breathing practice mirrors the Dàoist understanding that all apparent opposites - chaos and order, noise and music, confusion and clarity - are ultimately reunited in the embrace of the Dào.

Experience how your wind chime nature demonstrates the principle of 朴, Pǔ - the unhewn wood - representing simplicity and authenticity. Your transformation is not complicated; it requires no elaborate technique. It is simply the expression of your original nature, revealed through your breath and being. You hang beautifully in the space between Sky and Soil, receiving winds and offering music.

Listen to the chimes.

Breathe.

Be the chimes.

Breathe.

Be.

Breathe...

Conclusion

Now, gently shift your awareness back to your physical form while maintaining the wind chime consciousness that you have cultivated.

Let your breathing gradually return to its ordinary pattern while carrying the extraordinary awareness you have touched. With each breath, remember that you embody the Dàoist wisdom of transformation without effort.

Even when your mind seems clouded or confused or hurrying, your true nature remains intact. And your true nature is very capable of transforming confusion into harmony and beauty through the simple act of being present.

Take a deep, collecting breath, gathering the insights of this practice.

As you exhale, imagine sending the harmonious sounds of your being out into the world.

Breathe.

You can be the chimes...anytime

Breathe.

Be.

Breathe...

When you feel complete, wiggle your fingers and toes. Roll your neck in easy circles, gently reawakening physical sensation. Slowly open your eyes. A small smile might feel nice, now.

Commit to remembering the Dàoist understanding that the racing mind, like the chaotic wind, can be transformed not through control, but through alignment with your true nature.

Remember that you can return to this practice whenever needed, using your breath as the bridge between ordinary awareness and the profound simplicity of your wind chime nature. This is the living Dào - not a destination to reach, but a path to walk with each conscious breath.

Thank you.

Research has shown that meditation can be an effective complementary approach for managing depression.

Here are some key findings:

* Brain Changes: Meditation has been found to alter brain regions associated with depression, such as the medial prefrontal cortex (mPFC) and the amygdala. These areas are involved in rumination and stress responses. Meditation helps break the connection between them, reducing negative thought patterns.

* Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT): MBCT combines mindfulness practices with cognitive behavioral therapy. Studies have shown that it can significantly reduce relapse rates in individuals with recurrent depression.

* Stress Reduction: Mindfulness meditation has been proven to lower stress levels, which are major triggers for depression. Regular practice can improve emotional regulation and resilience.

* Physical Health Benefits: Meditation can also improve physical health, which indirectly supports mental well-being. For example, it has been linked to better sleep and reduced inflammation.

* Moderate Effectiveness: While meditation is not a cure-all, its effects are comparable to other treatments like therapy and medication for some individuals. It offers a non-invasive and accessible option.

Let us weave a meditation to gently hold and support those navigating recurrent clinical depression, with a focus on breath, movement, metaphor, and self-soothing.

This meditation can be revisited as often as needed. Its purpose is not to solve or erase depression but to provide a moment of solace, a reminder of the enduring light within you.

Here’s a guided journey for the heart and mind:

A Flame for your Darkness

a Guided Meditation

Setting the Intention

Find a quiet, comfortable space where you can be undisturbed.

Set your electronics to off or mute.

Draw the curtains.

I like to pull my hoodie up over my ears, head, and maybe eyes.

Sit upright in a chair, on a cushion, or even lie down if needed.

Rest your hands gently on your thighs, palms open in a gesture of acceptance, or fold them over your heart for a feeling of warmth.

Close your eyes softly or simply lower your gaze.

Feel how you chose to arrange the space you're in, where you chose to sit, and how you've arranged your body. Feel how each choice that you have made with me today has all offered you support and some simple comfort.

Grounding Breath

Begin by taking three deep breaths.

Inhale deeply through your nose for a count of four - feeling the air filling your lungs.

Hold for a count of four.

Exhale softly through your mouth for six, as though gently blowing on a candle flame. See it flickering, dancing - but never being snuffed entirely out.

Let's try that again.

Tend to your posture, your gesture, you place of rest.

Ready?

Inhale deeply through your nose for a count of four - feeling the air filling your lungs.

Hold this gently for a count of four.

Exhale softly through your mouth for six, as though gently blowing on a candle flame. See it flickering, dancing - but never being snuffed entirely out.

Let's try that again.

First:

Tend to your posture, your gesture, you place of support.

Ready? Ok, again:

Inhale deeply through your nose for a count of four - feeling the air filling your belly.

Hold this gently for a count of four.

Exhale softly through your mouth for six, as though gently blowing on a candle flame. See it flickering, dancing - but never being snuffed entirely out.

Repeat this pattern, letting your breath settle into a rhythm:

With each exhale, feel a weight releasing from your body, as though you are setting down a heavy bag you no longer need to carry. As though the task is over, as though you have arrived. Set down your burden with each exhalation.

Inhaling through the nose - deeply into the lungs for a four count:

1...2...3...4...

Nice!

Now, lets hold it full for four:

1...2...3...4...

Good.

Exhaling now through the mouth, blowing a candle's flame so that it flickers without quite going out. A six count for this:

1...2...3...4...5...6...

Excellent.

4 in

4 held

6 out with the breath and candle's flame dancing

Gentle Movement: Awakening the Body

If it feels right to you now, let's introduce gentle movements to awaken and unburden the body. Imagine you're tracing the arc of a sunrise:

* Slowly stretch your arms out to the side, as if welcoming the morning light. (If you're laying on your back, you can raise your arms for this practice, too - just over your chest rather than overhead. Simple!)

* Let your arms float upward, palms reaching toward the sky.

* Hold this reach briefly, sensing the space around you. Just as we'd been practicing with the breath.

* Lower your arms gently back to your sides, as though they are falling leaves, supported effortlessly by the empty air.

Repeat this movement a few times, breathing deeply and slowly - in through the nose and out through the mouth. Naturally breathing, allowing tension to melt away.

Continue to feel the support of the space your are in, the place you've chosen to rest, the breaths you've invited in...

These broad, slow, readily repeatable motions offer tension an opportunity to dissolve. With the breath and some patience, we can give them a fair chance to dissolve away.

The Flame Within: A Healing Metaphor

Picture yourself as a lantern in the night. At the heart of this lantern is a flame. It is small but steady. Even in times of darkness, this flame continues to burn.

Your breaths continue, your body now still...

This lantern wards off fears of the night.

This lantern lights the place you inhabit.

This lantern allows others to find you.

This lantern reminds you that the smallest of sparks can become a flame which can do all of this and remain perpetually present.

Now, as you breathe, imagine each inhale is fresh oxygen feeding this flame.

Inhaling through the nose to some deep place within the body.

Picture the lantern flame growing, little by little, over time. Always radiating warmth. It may flicker but it never goes out. This flame is your inner vitality, your essence that remains even during life’s many, many storms.

Exhaling from that same deep space, the lantern light flickers and sways - preparing to be renewed by the next inbreath.

Your breaths continue, your body enjoying this deep stillness...

Self-Soothing Touch

Place one hand over your heart and the other on your belly. Feel the rise and fall of your breath. Perhaps the hand press firmly, or simply rest their own weight upon you. Perhaps they massage in small circles, or stroke repeatedly in a welcome and rhythmic manner. However you touch - whatever pressure or frequency or type of touch - let it represent they way you wish the world had connected with you.

One hand over your heart and the other on your belly.

Breathing...

Supported...

Safe...

Whisper silently to yourself. Perhaps you're whispering something like:

* “I am here for myself.”

* “I honor this moment of care.”

* “Like the flame, I endure and grow.”

One hand over your heart and the other on your belly.

Breathing...

Whispering...

Supported...

Whispering...

Safe...

Whispering...

Perhaps you're whispering something like:

* “I can build support for myself.”

* “A simple breath is life support for a flame.”

* “I can hold myself up - a lantern for others.”

Let these affirmations echo within. The hands over your body are a reminder - you are your own sanctuary.

Returning to the Present

Gently wiggle your fingers and toes, bringing awareness back to your surroundings. Slowly open your eyes, noticing the textures, colors, & shapes around you. Rub your ears and jawline, perhaps your feet or thighs.

Take a moment to thank yourself for this time of connection.

Thank you.

Music cue:

Too Brief A Time To Be Anything

by HoliznaCC0

licensed under a CC0 1.0 Universal License.

Beneath the Ancient Oak

a Guided Meditation

Prologue

10 min.

Hello.

I'm Stephen Watson of SomedayFarm.org.

I invite you to find a comfortable position where your body feels supported and at ease. Take your time. I'm going to take my time...right alongside you.

Once you're comfortably seated, I invite to enjoy a slow breath. In through the nose and slowly. Out through the mouth when ready - letting it fully depart. Again? Ok. In through the nose - deeply and slowly. When it feels right, let it all out...slowly through the mouth.

Now, allow your eyes to softly close.

Take a deep breath in...hold it gently...and release it completely.

Once more, breathe deeply in...pause...and exhale fully.

Let your breathing find its natural rhythm, unhurried and unforced.

We are going to take our time with this meditation. We are going to be unhurried, here. Our unhurried presence is a gift. A gift that we can enjoy now and others can enjoy later.

Soak in this Now.

Settle your body in.

Settle your breath in.

Settle your mind in.

As you settle in, feel where your body connects to the Earth through the surface beneath you. Or, maybe surfaces. Perhaps through your sit bones or feet. Perhaps through your back. Maybe the cushion, or the floor. Perhaps the chair. For me, it is a lush carpet of moss on the North side of this extraordinary oak tree. Oh my, its so spongily soft. Soooo green. Notice these points of contact grounding you to this moment, to this place. With each breath, you settle more deeply into presence. I'm settling, too.

And breathing:

Inhaling slowly...

Exhaling completely.

Inhaling easily...

Exhaling more slowly.

Inhaling...

Exhaling...

That's it. Nice.

Let's begin; I'll tell the story of my meditation...

Your eyes are softly closed.

Your slow breathing will help to anchor you here.

Into a deep place within from the nose - and going slowly.

Out from that deep inner place through the mouth - and going so slowly.

My story will fill your mind.

And perhaps calm and quiet you.

And perhaps soften and open your heart.

And perhaps renew and ripen your spirit.

We will take our time and visualize.

We will feel it all.

Here we go...

You're in a comfortable position with gently closed eyes. You're supported and still. The breath is even and without strain.

Take a slow, deep breath in...hold it briefly...and release completely.

Once more: breathe in deeply...hold...and exhale fully.

Your breathing has found its natural rhythm - unhurried and effortless.

Each breath arrives and departs like a songbird on an evergreen bough.

Feel the weight of your body against the surface supporting you. Notice those points of contact again - your feet on the floor, your back against the chair, your hands resting in your lap. With each slow breath, you become more grounded, more present.

Inhale...

Exhale...

The Oak and I...

Begins at 10 min. Mark

I am standing at the edge of an ancient forest. This forest has memories that extend further back in time than my imaginings can reach. The morning air is crisp and clear, carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers and Earth and last evening's rain. Before me stretches a narrow path, worn smooth by countless feet over countless years. I smile at the large boulder behind the cedar tree - wondering if a glacier left it there long ago. I begin to walk, slowly. I'm in no hurry. I am devoted to mindfulness, today. I am devoted to mindfulness every time I visit the forest. I am feeling the soft ground beneath my steps. Sometimes a cat's soft paw padding past on a carpet, other times a crunch.

The forest welcomes me with dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. In Japanese, they call this light Komorebi. I wonder how Life itself filters through me and into my inner experience. Light and Shadow dance across my path. Peripherally, I keep being reminded of butterflies but when I turn my head...well, I haven't seen one - yet. The vibrant greens of Spring surround me - young ferns unfurling, moss-covered stones, and the varied textures of tree bark. I notice some deadfall that is familiar - from walks here in prior years. I notice some deadfall from this past Winter, too. Much of the forest is becoming horizontal and yet in this coming Spring season of renewal I know that much of the forest will reassert verticality.

I walk past willow, and beech. I marvel at the rare chestnut. I think that one might be an ash tree. I see tulip trees and sugar maples. There was a leaning red maple with new growth in new directions.

As I follow the gentle curve of the path, I notice the sounds of the forest - birdsong overhead, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant murmur of a stream. My own crunching steps. A branch falling through branches and into a cushion of leaf litter. Each step takes me deeper into this living sanctuary. I'm pretty sure that was a frog of some sort, sounding out just now.

The path gradually widens and leads me to a sun-drenched clearing. In the center stands a magnificent oak tree, its massive trunk speaking of centuries of growth, its branches reaching toward the Sky in a powerful gesture of patience and persistence. This oak could be a thousand years old! Many of its larger limbs are themselves far larger than the trunks of mature trees nearby.

I approach the ancient oak, aware that I am in the presence of a Teacher. This tree has witnessed the passage of countless seasons, weathered storms, provided shelter, dropped its acorns, and begun again - over and over through time. Time perhaps best measured in eons. I cannot count its cracks, its scars, it cankers. But it seems that the small world of abundant life in this forest can count on this oak. And has - for many seasons and will - for many more.

As I stand beneath the oak's sweeping limbs, I enjoy sensing the higher humidity here. The leaf litter beneath the oak holds the moisture here. The smell is stronger and richer. The air feels cooler. I begin to think of the bacteria, the fungus, the insects that come to appreciate and depend on this microenvironment. I wonder if I might spy Shiitake or Oyster mushrooms. Perhaps Turkey Tail or Reishi. They all seem to enjoy the oak. I make a mental note to look carefully at any oak branches that have fallen into shady bits - maybe I'll wonder at a mushroom's fruiting body and make a good guess at its type.

At the base of the oak is a natural hollow, forming a perfect seat against its trunk.

I seek permission to touch the Oak. I bow. I draw nearer.

Inhale...

Exhale...

I rest against its trunk, feeling the subtle energy flowing between us - this ancient being and myself.

I settle myself there in the hollow-seat at its base. I am feeling the solid strength of the tree against my back. The ground beneath this hollow-seat is cushioned with soft moss and fallen leaves.

Inhale...

Exhale...

This ancient oak represents the wisdom of cycles, the wisdom of seasons. It stands as a testament to resilience, to deep-rootedness, to the power of slow and steady growth. The oak may be more like the stones of the forest than its fellow trees. It has such a long view of time and of life.

I begin to think (or maybe I am feeling) that the tree communicates with me best through silent contact. I make a mental note to reconsider the power of touch in my own relationships...outside of the forest.

Inhale...

Exhale...

I offer my attention to my own cycles and seasons. Like this tree, I too have weathered storms. I've dropped my acorns. I've had birds briefly perch upon my limbs. I've experienced the dormancy of Winter, the hopeful budding of Spring, the full bloom of Summer, and the necessary release of Autumn. I've had bears clawing at my bark, woodpeckers relentlessly rapping at my sides, beetles boring under my skin. I've had my share of limbs fall to the ground around me. Each season has shaped me, taught me, transformed me.

Inhaling deeply...

Exhaling slowly...

The oak does not rush its growth. It does not flower before its time. It does not cling to its leaves when Autumn calls for release. It spends a great amount of time and energy producing thousands of acorns each year...only to freely offer them to whomsoever may find a need. It might be a hungry bear, another hungry bear, or of course the many hungry squirrels of the forest. The oak stands in perfect harmony with the rhythms of nature, neither resisting nor forcing the natural flow of life. The natural flow that is and becomes the forest. The natural flow that is and becomes this oak.

Inhaling so deeply...

Exhaling so slowly...

Oh! A butterfly. I always thought they might better be called Flutterbys. That's what they do. And while we're at it - aren't squirrels really Squiggles? That's what they do.

As I breathe here in this sacred space, I consider what season I am currently experiencing in my own life. Is this a time of new beginnings? A time of full expression? A time of necessary endings? Or perhaps a time of quiet restoration?

Whatever season I am in, I acknowledge its purpose and its wisdom. I release the need to be in any season other than the one I am experiencing now. Like the oak, I can trust the natural unfolding of my life.

A fox seemingly swims past the elder trees and the older stones. Inaudible and impossibly smooth. I think I hear an owl hoot or coo. Somewhere the scent of death, of rot - which I know is the scent of life. I'm inspired to consider how an oak plays host to and shelters countless species, from birds to insects to mammals. And lizards and lichen and more. An oak's canopy provides nesting sites, while its trunks and branches offer innumerable and perfectly cozy hiding spots for smaller creatures.

Inhaling effortlessly and ever so deeply...

Exhaling quietly and ever so slowly...

I feel the solidity of the tree against my back, and I imagine drawing that same groundedness into my deepest being. I visualize roots extending from the base of my spine, reaching down into the Earth, anchoring me firmly to this moment, to this place. Roots the communicate and share and connect.

With each breath, I draw up nourishment from these imagined roots. Earth energy flows upward through my body, filling me with stability and strength. And a cosmic certainty. I am held, supported, & truly connected to the vast web of life.

As I rest here, I offer these intentions silently:

* "May I honor the season I am in."

* "May I trust everything's natural cycles of growth and rest."

* "May I stand rooted in my own truth."

* "May I extend my branches toward the light, even as I weather the storms."

I sit quietly with these intentions, allowing them to sink deeply into my consciousness. The ancient oak stands with me in silent companionship, its presence a reminder of what it means to live in harmony with the natural world and with my own nature.

Inhale...

Exhale...

The breeze stirs the leaves overhead, creating a gentle rustling song. I listen to this music of nature, letting it wash over me, cleanse me, remind me of the beauty of simply being. I begin to think of the song of sunlight filtering through the canopy. And the song of shadow. The choir of Komorebi.

Inhale...

Exhale...

When I feel complete with this experience, I begin to deepen my breath. I wiggle my fingers and toes, gently roll my shoulders, bringing awareness back to my physical body. I invite you to, as well.

Slowly, I open my eyes. I am now seeing and feeling and thinking with the wisdom of the ancient oak. I've an understanding that I too am a natural being, perfectly attuned to cycles of growth, rest, and renewal. I, too am an ecosystem.

I take a moment to bow in gratitude to this Teacher, this ancient one who has shared its wisdom so generously.

And I thank you for joining me...

Thank you.

Love.

Music cue:

20 Minute Meditation 10

by HoliznaCC0

licensed under a CC0 1.0 Universal License

Spring's Garden of Growth

a Guided Meditation

Prologue

5 min.

I invite you to find a comfortable position where your body feels supported and at ease. Take your time. Once seated, enjoy a slow breath. Now, allow your eyes to softly close. Take a deep breath in... hold it gently... and release it completely. Once more, breathe deeply in... pause... and exhale fully. Let your breathing find its natural rhythm, unhurried and unforced.

We are going to take our time with this meditation. We are going to be unhurried, here. Soak in this Now. Settle your body in. Settle your breath in. Settle your mind in.

As you settle in, feel where your body connects with the surface beneath you. Maybe the cushion, or the floor. Perhaps the chair. For me, it is an ageworn wooden garden bench. Notice these points of contact grounding you to this moment, to this place. With each breath, you settle more deeply into presence.

Inhale slowly...

Exhale completely.

Inhale easily...

Exhale more slowly.

Inhale...

Exhale...

That's it. Nice.

Let's begin; I'll tell the story of my meditation...

Your eyes are closed.

Your breathing helps to anchor you here.

My story will fill your mind.

And perhaps soften and open your heart.

We will take our time and visualize.

We will feel it all.

Here we go...

The Heart-shaped Garden

19 min.

I am sitting on an old wooden bench at the edge of a garden in early Spring. The air holds a particular freshness - cool but with a hint of warmth. The rains and heat haven't yet arrived. Nevertheless, some early Spring green shoots and tiny purple and orange and red buds have appeared...if you know where to look. The morning light is clear and gentle, casting soft shadows across the Earth. Clouds drift lazily by and the quick breezes shifting last season's crinkly brown leaves keep conjuring thoughts of rabbits playing and snakes slithering.

Before me lies the garden plot, largely bare, perhaps waiting. It's shaped like a child's drawing of a heart. The soil is dark and rich, still partially dormant from Winter's rest. Maybe, if I'm honest, mostly dormant. I have given it one half-hearted raking and spread a touch of fertilizer just last week. Here and there, small signs of life emerge - a few persistent green shoots near the edges, the tiniest leaves unfurling from seemingly empty ground. Daffodils and forsythia silently make a strong argument for a Summer meant for yellow. Mostly though, it is open space. Unplanted. Undisturbed. Unhurried.

No corns stalks sway, today. No beans curl and climb the corn stalks that are not there...just yet. No squash grows rotund beneath the shade of beans and the impossibly tall corn stalks - their silks like proud banners - the corn stalks that are not yet here. The Three Sisters still slumber so sleepily.

The garden is bordered by more-or-less smooth stones of various sizes, creating a natural boundary. I smiles at the small openings between certain stones - gateways for comings and goings. These stones have witnessed many seasons, many plantings, many harvests. Some I dug up from near the bamboo garden. Brought them up into the rich light. Lichen clings to a few and moss enjoys the shaded valleys afforded by others. These stones remain, steadfast guardians of this space. Some have shifted from frost's upheavals though they each remain. Stony stalwarts where liverworts will soon reach.

As I sit in stillness, I become aware of the garden's other visitors. A robin lands lightly on the soil, tilting its head as if listening to secrets beneath the surface. It pecks once, twice, then flies to a nearby branch. A bleeding heart plant is showing near the catnip. The catnip's seems to have migrated this past Winter. A small cloud of some flying insects seems to have a keen interest in the shaded side of the lilac bush - itself seeming to enjoy its slowly appearing greenery. A chipmunk darts along the stone border, pausing occasionally to observe before continuing on its journey. A songbird descends from a neighboring tree, cautiously exploring - limb by lower limb - before retreating to higher ground. Somewhere, a woodpecker plays percussion for a band that isn't quite warmed up, or perhaps attentive - or maybe even in attendance.

The wildlife moves through this space with natural ease - neither disturbing nor being disturbed. It is all so gloriously and effortlessly and simply present. Each attending to its own rhythms, its own needs. Each visitor asks nothing of the garden except what is freely offered in this moment. Some visit, some linger, and some emerge.

A squirrel climbs the leaning maple behind the garden shed. I gasp and let a slight unplanned utterance out. Momma has an impossibly small fuzzy child in her mouth. Upward the climb! They reach their hollow way up high. They clamber into the dark. Momma peeks out to be sure all is well. Then turns inward to her brood.

I notice that nothing in this scene is striving. The soil doesn't rush its warming. The stones don't attempt to be anything other than stones. The early shoots emerge at exactly their own pace. The buds clench themselves only until ready to unfold. The animals neither hurry nor delay their natural movements. In tune with Nature, in sync with Nature...all things in Nature follow Nature by following their own inner nature.

My attention turns to the garden itself - this open canvas of possibility. No seeds have been planted yet. No rows have been marked. No decisions have been made about what will grow here in the coming season. Sure, I've discussed some ideas, peeked into the neighborhood nursery's windows, flipped through a seed catalog, and lazily daydreamed of hot peppers finding a home in the far corner where the afternoon sun is strong. I've only seen one rabbit here this season. But now...this morning...this now: the garden simply exists in a state of sacred potential. It is complete in its incompleteness.

The newly paired mourning doves coo. A phoebe chases spring gnats. A rat rustles near the compost pile. A butterfly flits past small purple flowers, showing their faces beside the frog pond. Something chitters. Something chatters. The Buddha statue remains quiet, still, serene. The windchimes continue contributing melodiously. I've counted four frogs this Spring - and named each for a poet. The winds are not yet strong enough to sound the large gong.

There is work to be done here, certainly. Soil to be turned. Weeds to be cleared. Mulch to be spread. Weeds to be cleared. Stones to be shifted. More weeds to be tussled with. Decisions to be made. Plans to be drawn. Seeds to be planted and tended. Weeds to be cleared. But...not now. Not in this moment. Now is the time of witnessing what is already here, what remains, and what returns on its own.

My Garden-shaped Heart

16 min.

As I continue to sit with this garden, I begin to understand that this space mirrors my own heart. This garden is my heartspace in early Spring, holding both the memory of previous seasons and the possibilities of what is yet to come. I am sitting - just sitting - in the garden of my own heartspace...early Spring's Garden of Growth.

Inhale easily...

Exhale more slowly.

Inhale...

Exhale...

That's it. Ahh.

Like this garden, my heart contains areas of bare soil - open, receptive, waiting. It holds persistent growth from seasons past - relationships, knowledge, wisdom that continues to emerge without effort. It has its stone boundaries - the necessary containers that define and protect my deepest self. The stone boundaries also offer intentional openings for authentic connection.

Perhaps my own heartspace has a smokebush seedling, a dwarf willow tree, and some Spring bulbs sitting on its porch awaiting rich soil. And water. And light. One day each assured to feel my soft overseeing smile as I sip tea at gardenside.

And like this garden, my heart welcomes various visitors - thoughts, emotions, memories that come and go, each with their own purpose, their own wisdom to offer...if I simply observe their natural movements without interference.

Inhale...

Exhale...

I recognize that my heart, too, exists in this season of preparation and potential. There is much I might cultivate here in the coming days. Much to clear away, much to nurture, much to newly plant. Perhaps some things to prune. But in this moment, I am simply a companion to possibility.

Inhale...

Exhale...

I am not doing. I am not planning. I am not even dreaming of what might be. I am simply witnessing what is - this perfect state of readiness before action. This sacred pause between seasons. I sip my tea. I breathe in the fragrancelessness of a new Spring.

Inhale...

Exhale...

I feel a profound peace in recognizing that this moment of apparent emptiness is actually complete in itself. The unplanted garden lacks nothing. My heartspace lacks nothing. In fact, it is fed by nothing just as it is fed by anything and everything. The garden, my heart - each exist exactly as they should in this phase of the greater cycle.

With each breath, I deepen my appreciation for this time of quiet potential. I honor the wisdom in witnessing, in simply being present to what is already here. Before moving or removing anything. Before adding anything new.

Inhale...

Exhale...

I silently offer these acknowledgments to my heart-garden:

* "I honor your natural rhythms of rest and growth."

* "I appreciate your readiness without rushing."

* "I witness your existing strength, your resilience through past seasons."

* "I value this time of being rather than of doing."

Inhale slowly...

Exhale slower...

I sit quietly, breathing with these intentions, letting them sink deeply into the soil of my awareness. The garden and I rest together in mutual recognition - each complete, each preparing, and each perfectly aligned with the season.

Inhaling...

Exhaling...

The sun has shifted slightly, warming the bench beneath me. A gentle breeze stirs the air, carrying the subtle scent of Earth and possibility. I take in this moment fully, imprinting it on my senses, knowing that soon enough, the season of active tending will arrive. I will be calloused, I will be fed, I will be sore, I will be alive to aliveness.

But for now, I am here. Simply...here. A sacred witness to sacred potential. A companion to possibility.

Inhale easily...

Exhale easily, fully, and slowly.

Inhale...

Exhale...

That's it. Yes. Mmmm.

As this meditation comes to a close, I gradually deepen my breathing. I move my jaw in silence. I shift my weight a bit. I gently wiggle my fingers and toes - reawakening to physical sensations. I roll my shoulders softly, inviting movement back into my body. I feel into my spine and these two palms. I sense my heartbeat. Now, a deep inhalation.

Exhaling, I slowly open my eyes, carrying with me the peaceful wisdom of the early Spring garden - my heartspace - with its perfect blend of what remains, what returns, and what is yet to be.

Thank you.

In this Healing Space

a Guided Meditation

for Jean:

Find a comfortable seat and close your eyes. Take a deep breath in...hold it for a moment...and now - slowly release it. Allow your breathing to settle into a natural, steady rhythm. You're unconcerned and your breathing is unforced. Breathe in...hold it for a moment...and now - slowly release it.

Feel the connection between your body and the surface supporting you - grounding yourself in this very moment.

I'm sitting in the therapist's office. This space is cozy and inviting. Rich carpets and thick upholstery. It has a sweet personality. It's after office hours and quiet, here. The lights are dim and no clock ticks. I can sense the faint echo of palo santo. Overhead, an opaline skylight.

I'm on the couch looking across a small, glass table at a comfortable chair. On the circular glass table a seashell holding breath mints. I'm reminded to breathe.

I'm in the place where problems and worries and fears and anxieties and traumas and wounds are talked about. Or are avoided. Are confronted, are challenged, are understood. I am in the place of avoiding. I am in the place of healing, in the place of honesty. I am in the place of argument and acknowledgment. I am in the place of difficulty, in the place of relief. But right now, the office is closed and I'm sitting on the couch.

This office is closed. No stories, no advice - just stillness. A warm and welcoming stillness. This quiet space, of course, represents my heart and my mind. I feel the trust and tranquility, here. I let it fill me with a profound peace and the sacred possibility of healing.

The chairs that have supported many are now empty. There's no dialogue, no advice, just a calm space. Often there are tears here, resistances rubbed lovingly away. There are hugs and homework. There are notes taken and secrets shared.

This room tonight is quiet, serene, bathed in a soft light. A particularly warm light. The walls have listened to countless stories, they've seen the ebb and flow of emotions. There are tissue boxes on every table - but none are needed tonight. Tonight, the office is empty. No voices, no advice - just stillness. This space is silent, empty and I am comfortably alone, here.

I know that this empty but purposeful office is my mind...is my heart. I feel the calmness within me. I am open to healing, to clarity, to release, to realization, tonight - here in this sanctuary.

I'm feeling the gentle embrace of the couch, it's easy and familiar support. Looking around the room, I notice the textures, the colors, the myriad small details that make it feel safe and welcoming. There is an antique mirror and a collection of blankets. There's a sculpture of a birch tree - strung with small white lights. A candle, a Thank You note, poetry on the wall, a statue of something holy. I'm letting myself feel the tranquility of this place - a sanctuary created for healing, reflection, & peace. For understanding. For honesty. For truth.

I know that this office represents the space within me: my own heart, my own mind. It is a place where thoughts can flow freely, where every...single...emotion is always readily welcomed. And all without judgment. There is no need to fix or to solve anything. I am here now - simply to be.

I'm taking a moment to observe what arises within myself. I'm aware of my headspace. I'm aware of my heartspace. My easy breathing is creating a comforting rhythm. I notice the sensations in this body, the thoughts that come and go, the feelings that may surface. I acknowledge each one without clinging to it, without pushing it away. I let them each easily pass, like daydreams on a Summer's day.

Now, I bring this mind's focus to this breath. I feel into the gentle rhythm of each inhalation and exhalation. With each breath, I imagine myself filling this space with calm and healing energy. An offering to whoever may speak here next. To whoever may listen here next. Each exhale releases my tension, as I let go of anything that no longer serves me. Each inhalation a simple offering to all who offer of themselves (so vulnerably!) in this place

As I breathe, I repeat these affirmations silently. These blessings:

* "May this remain a space for Trust."

* "May this remain a space for Healing."

* "May this remain a space for Transformation ."

* "May this remain a space for Insight."

I spend a few moments here, simply breathing and being and blessing. I'm consciously inviting the peace of this space to envelop me. To wash over. To fill me. To cleanse me. I am breathing and being and blessing as I offer my heart and intention to this space.

Feeling ready, now: I begin to deepen the breath. I gently wiggle my fingers and toes, I roll my neck. I'm bringing awareness back to the physical body. Slowly, I open my eyes.

I bow. I smile. I sigh.

Thank you.

Om...Shanti. Om.

Music: Keith Smith

Uncovering Joy Beneath Difficulty

a Ram Dass Guided Meditation

Introduction

Welcome. As you settle into this moment, find a comfortable position - whether seated, lying down, or even standing - and let your body rest. Feel the weight of your body supported by the ancient Earth beneath you. Feel the weight of your spirit, held by the whole Cosmos. Softly and slowly allow your eyes to fall to closed. Begin to draw your awareness inward, to the rhythm of your breath.

Take your time...its free.

Centering

Take a deep breath in. Feel the fullness of this inhalation - a gift of life flowing into you. As you exhale, gently release tension from your body and mind. With each breath, you deepen your connection to this present moment. Repeat this gentle flow for a few cycles, allowing yourself to ease into your being, into the here, and into the now.

Breathing life in...

Breathing tension out...

Reflection: Facing Difficulty

Breathing life in...

Breathing tension out...

Begin by bringing to mind a challenge you are facing, perhaps an unresolved difficulty or a moment of discomfort. Perhaps an unfairly lasting moment. A circumstance, a person, an institution, a wound. Bring this difficulty quite gently to mind. Let it surface like a turtle from a lotus-bearing pond. This difficulty is brought to mind not to be resisted or to be judged. Rather, it is simply raised to the surface of mind to seek breath, to seek light, to visit the lotus flowers. Let it arise.

Ram Dass reminds us, "What you are looking for is already where you are." Trust that your path, including this challenge, holds treasures, insights, even revelation - awaiting discovery.

Invite yourself to hold this difficulty tenderly, with curiosity rather than with judgment. Observe its shape, its weight. Its texture, its color. What does it Teach you about your inner landscape? Imagine wrapping this challenge in a soft blanket of kindness. Swaddled wounds.

Inhale deeply and feel life fill you.

Exhale fully and feel tension leave you.

Allow yourself to ease into your being, into the here, and into the now.

Releasing Resistance

Continue breathing easily.

Continue bearing your challenge near the top of mind - held lightly in the soft glow of your awareness.

Continue breathing deeply.

Ram Dass often speaks about letting go of resistance to life’s flow, saying, “Be here now.” As you exhale, imagine releasing any resistance to the difficulty you’ve welcomed into your awareness. Let go of the need to solve, to fix, or to push against it. The fullness of this breath and this moment leave no space for argument. Trust that in surrendering to the moment, you make space for unexpected joy to emerge.

As you breathe, feel yourself stepping back from the problem, as if viewing it from a higher perspective. A further perspective. A wider perspective. See the broader tapestry of life and how this moment fits into your journey. A small smile is surely forming, now. Feel the shift in your awareness as joy quietly begins to stir.

Inhale deeply and feel life fill you.

Exhale fully and feel tension leave you.

Allow yourself to ease into your being, into the here, and into the now.

Unveiling Joy

Continue breathing easily.

Continue bearing your challenge in mind - held lightly in the loving glow of your awareness.

Continue breathing slowly.

Now, turn your attention inward - to the stillness beneath. Beneath the waves of difficulty, there is always a quiet depth, a center of calm. Quietude at our core. Ram Dass teaches, “The quieter you become, the more you hear.” What does this stillness whisper to you? What joy, however small, is hidden beneath the surface?

Take a few breaths here, allowing this joy - whether subtle or profound - to grow within you. Feel its warmth spreading gently through your body, your heart, your spirit. How is that smile doing, now?

Inhale deeply and feel life fill you.

Exhale fully and feel tension leave you.

Allow yourself to ease into your being, into the here, and into the now.

Integration: Carrying Joy Forward

Continue breathing easily.

Continue bearing your challenge in mind; alongside your newly uncovered joy - both held lightly in the appreciative glow of your awareness.

Continue breathing quietly.

As you prepare to return to your day, know that this joy remains within you. It does not depend on external circumstances; it is your birthright, and it is always accessible. Reflect on Ram Dass’ wisdom: “When you let go of who you think you are, you become who you are.” Joy unfolds from the essence of your being. Like that smile unfolding on your silly face.

While wearing your newfound smile:

Inhale deeply and feel life fill you...feel joy fill you.

Exhale fully and feel who you thought you were leave you.

Allow yourself to ease into your being, into the here, and into the now.

Be...

Here...

Now...

Take a final and deep breath:

In with ease.

Out with joy.

Gently lift your eyelids or bring your awareness back to the space around you. Know that you carry this inner joy forward into each moment of your journey. And this joy is with you as you meet each person, circumstance, and challenge.

Conclusion

Thank you for joining this Practice. May it remind you of the limitless joy within, even during life’s most challenging times.

Thank you