The following is a 5-minute guided meditation script inspired by the mindfulness works by Jon Kabat-Zinn. Check him out on YouTube.com, and if you are interested in his vibe, then check out his books, Full Catastrophe Living and Wherever You Go, There You Are as well as the Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR).
This meditation is focused specifically on not having to earn your existence via productivity, and awareness of guilt that arises when we take time to not be productive.
The Gift of This Breath
Find a position that allows you to be both comfortable and awake. Sitting or lying down, allowing your body to be supported by whatever is beneath you.
And, if it feels comfortable, allowing your eyes to close… or simply softening your gaze.
There is nowhere else you need to be for these next few moments.
Nothing to fix.
Nothing to solve.
Nothing to accomplish.
Just this.
Just this breath.
Begin by noticing that you have arrived.
You may notice sounds around you. The temperature of the air against your skin. The places where your body makes contact with the chair, the floor, the bed.
Without needing to change anything.
Simply arriving in the life that is already here.
And perhaps becoming aware of the movement of breathing.
Not forcing the breath.
Not improving it.
Not optimizing it.
Just noticing.
The body breathing itself.
This inhale.
And this exhale.
You may notice that the mind wants to travel.
Planning.
Remembering.
Rehearsing conversations.
Reviewing mistakes.
Making lists.
Trying to solve tomorrow before tomorrow arrives.
This is not a problem.
This is simply what minds do.
And each time you notice that you’ve wandered, gently acknowledging it.
“Ah. Planning.”
“Remembering.”
“Worrying.”
And escorting your attention back to the next breath.
As if returning home.
Because the future exists.
There are things that matter.
Responsibilities.
People you love.
Work that needs doing.
Dreams worth pursuing.
The future is real.
But it is not asking anything of you right now.
Right now, the future can wait.
Just for these few minutes.
It will still be there.
You do not have to carry tomorrow while you are breathing this breath.
You do not have to solve next week while sitting in this moment.
This breath is enough.
Notice the inhale arriving as a gift.
Unasked for.
Freely given.
The body receiving life.
And the exhale.
A letting go.
A small surrender.
How remarkable that, without earning it, another breath arrives.
And another.
And another.
See if you can meet this breath not as an obligation, but as a gift.
A reminder that being alive is not a task to complete.
It is an experience to inhabit.
You may also notice guilt arising.
The familiar voice that says:
“You should be doing something.”
“You’re wasting time.”
“You haven’t done enough.”
“You need to be more productive.”
Perhaps you’ve carried that voice for a very long time.
Notice if you can acknowledge it without arguing with it.
Without believing it completely.
Simply recognizing:
“Ah, guilt is here.”
“The productivity story is here.”
And then returning once more to this breath.
The truth is that your worth has never been dependent upon your output.
You were not born with a checklist in your hands.
You did not arrive in this world needing to prove that you deserved to exist.
The trees do not apologize for standing still in winter.
The ocean does not justify its tides.
The moon does not earn its place in the sky.
And perhaps, for this moment, you do not have to earn your own existence either.
Perhaps allowing yourself to simply be…
to rest in awareness…
to inhabit this body…
to receive this breath…
is itself an act of courage.
A radical act of self-love.
Not because you have given up on your responsibilities.
Not because you no longer care.
But because you are remembering that beneath all the doing, there is a human being worthy of kindness.
Worthy of rest.
Worthy of presence.
See if you can offer that kindness to yourself now.
Breathing in, aware of this moment.
Breathing out, softening into this moment.
Nothing missing.
Nothing extra required.
Just this breath.
This body.
This life unfolding exactly where you are.
And as we begin to bring this practice to a close, noticing once again the support beneath you.
The sounds around you.
The simple fact of being here.
Perhaps carrying this understanding with you:
The future will ask for your attention when it arrives.
But this moment asks only that you meet it.
One breath at a time.
And so, taking one final conscious breath.
Receiving it as a gift.
And releasing it with gratitude.
When you’re ready, gently wiggling your fingers and toes.
Allowing your eyes to open.
Returning to your day.
Not having solved everything.
Not having become someone else.
But having remembered, if only for a few moments, that you belong here, in this breath, in this life.
And that is enough.