Everything seems to want something from and you,
it wants it Let's now.
slow that down for six minutes.
Sit or lie however you There's like.
no rush to get comfortable.
Take your time with I'll it.
wait.
Close your eyes.
And just notice, before we do anything, how much of you is still hurrying.
Maybe your breath is quick and high in your chest.
Or your mind is already skipping ahead to whatever comes after this.
Think of the last time you were stuck in line, or waiting for a
page to load.
That itchy, pressing feeling.
See if any of it is here now.
That urge to hurry is a feeling, like any other.
You can notice it without doing what it says.
Now we're going to breathe in slow motion.
As slowly as you can while it still feels comfortable.
No straining.
Breathe in...
slowly...
like the tide coming up the beach...
And breathe out...
even slower...
letting it drain away.
In again...
take your time...
there's no finish line...
And out...
slow...
slow...
Once more.
Stretch the in-breath a little longer than feels natural...
And let the out-breath take as long as it wants.
Notice the tiny pause at the bottom, before the next breath comes on You
its own.
don't have to pull it It'll in.
arrive.
Now think of someone who tests your patience.
Someone who talks slowly when you're in a hurry, or asks the same thing
twice.
Maybe someone you live with.
Picture them doing the thing that gets to you.
Notice what happens in your body.
A tight jaw.
Heat in the chest.
Now take one of those slow-motion breaths, right there, with them in the picture.
And breathe out slowly.
They probably have their own reasons for being how they are.
Things you can't see.
You don't have to fix them or agree with them.
You're just giving yourself a gap before you react.
That little gap is most of what patience is, honestly.
It's only a breath long.
Most days, a breath is enough to stop you the saying thing you'd regret.
Now the harder one.
Patience with yourself.
Think of something you're trying to get better at.
Or somewhere you thought you'd be by now and aren't.
It's easy to be impatient with our own progress.
To feel behind.
But look at the tide.
It doesn't come in all at once.
It creeps up, a little at a time, and then one day the whole
beach is covered.
Say this quietly to yourself.
I'm allowed to go at my own pace.
Once more, and see if you can mean it a little more this time.
I'm allowed to go at my own pace.
And if your mind has wandered off during all this, that's alright.
That's part of going slowly too.
Just come back.
Rest here now.
Nothing is late.
Nothing needs you in this moment.
Just listen to the water coming in and going out, taking all the time
in the world.
The world will keep rushing.
You don't have to rush along with it.
You can move at your own speed right in the middle of it all.
When you're ready,
and not before, let's come back.
Move your fingers slowly.
Then your toes.
Let your head roll a little, side to side.
Before you open your eyes, choose one thing today you'll do more slowly purpose.
on Drinking your tea, maybe.
Or walking to the car without checking your phone on the way.
Now open your eyes, slowly.
Take the day at the pace of the tide, as much as you can.