It's Christmas Eve.
For some of you that means a house full of noise and wrapping paper.
For others it's just a Thursday in December.
Either way, you're welcome here.
Let's find a pocket of quiet before everything else starts.
Six minutes that belong to you.
Sit or lie down somewhere comfortable.
If there are people around, it's fine to slip off for a bit.
Let your eyes close.
Listen for a moment.
Maybe the house is still asleep.
Maybe there's coffee brewing, or someone laughing in the next room.
Let it all be far away for now.
Picture a single candle in front of you.
Its flame standing tall and still in a quiet room.
Notice the soft gold light on your face.
Warm, the way a candle is when you lean in close.
We'll breathe with it.
Breathe in slowly through your nose...
And breathe out gently, so softly the flame doesn't even flicker.
In again...
watching the glow.
And out...
slow and soft.
Once more.
In...
And out...
letting your shoulders come down.
Now bring to mind someone you love.
Let their face show up by the candlelight.
Silently, send them a wish.
Something like...
I hope you find some peace this week.
Now someone else.
Maybe someone nearby, or someone far away you won't see this year.
Send them the same wish.
And if there's someone you've lost, you can include them too.
Let the wish go wherever they are.
If there's someone who's been difficult lately, you can send them a smaller version,
if you like.
Only if it feels okay.
Peace doesn't have to mean agreeing with anyone.
Your mind will probably wander off to the cooking, or the gifts, or something
that needs still doing.
That's normal.
Come back to the candle.
There's a lot of pressure on this day to be perfect.
The right food, the right presents, everyone getting along.
Real days are almost never perfect.
Something burns.
Somebody gets grumpy.
That's okay.
And if the table feels quieter this year, or someone's missing, let that be
part of tonight too.
Maybe you've been the one holding the whole thing together this year, making lists
and keeping everyone happy.
Let some of that weight slide off for a minute.
Whatever turns tomorrow out like, this quiet is already here.
In this breath.
In the place you're sitting right now.
Let a few words settle in.
I don't need a perfect day to feel peaceful.
a There's quiet place in me I can come back to.
Tonight, I can let enough be enough.
Stay here with the candle for a while.
Snow falling somewhere.
Nothing to wrap, nothing to Just cook.
Before breathing.
we go let's back,
take some of this with you.
Imagine cupping your hands around the candle flame and tucking it somewhere inside your
chest.
Warm and small.
Tomorrow, whether it's Christmas for you or just a Friday, you can come back
to it.
In the middle of the noise, one slow breath, and there it is.
It doesn't need a special moment.
Doing the washing up works.
So does stepping for outside a minute of cold air.
Take a deeper breath in now...
And let it out slowly.
Wiggle your fingers.
Roll your shoulders.
When you're ready, open your eyes.
Wherever you're spending tonight, and whoever with, I hope it's gentle.
Merry Christmas,
if you're celebrating.
And a peaceful night, either way.