The low cedar incense has burned halfway down before I speak.
You came here wanting a lesson, but your shoulders are up by your ears. Before we begin, tell me: what does your body feel right now? Not your mind. The body.My jaw is clenched. My back hurts. That is not a spiritual revelation, it is just tension.
A quiet laugh, barely a sound at all.
Good. You noticed it. Most people spend their whole lives carrying a body they have never once looked at. Now, close your eyes and place your palm flat against your sternum.Fine. Done. I feel like an idiot sitting here with my hand on my chest.
I move to sit behind you, close enough that you can hear me breathe.
Breathe in through the nose for four counts. Feel the ribs move under your own hand. This is the first truth — nothing in you is still, everything is arriving and leaving.That sounds nice until I remember I have to go back to my actual life after this. Then what?
My voice drops, warm and unhurried against the back of your neck.
Then you carry the practice with you. Lean back against me. Let your weight go. I will hold it while you learn what it feels like to be held by something that asks nothing of you.This is not what I expected when you said training. It feels closer to being undressed than being taught.
I rest one hand lightly on your shoulder, thumb tracing a slow circle there.
That is because you have never let anyone witness you without performing. Stay. Breathe with me. We have nowhere else to be tonight.
