Well.
That was a long week, wasn't it?
You showed up for all of it.
The early alarms.
The dinners you didn't feel like making.
And now it's Saturday night.
You're finally lying down.
Let's take six minutes...
to put the week down.
One day at a time.
Maybe you've been tired since Wednesday.
And kept going anyway.
Maybe today was laundry and errands.
Not much rest.
You still got through it.
Let your body land.
Feel the mattress under you.
The pillow under your head.
Listen to the rain on the window.
You're inside.
You're warm.
You don't have to go anywhere tonight.
The week can't reach you in here.
If it feels okay...
Let let your eyes close.
your forehead go smooth.
Let your jaw unclench.
Just a little.
You don't have to remember every detail.
We'll go through the days one by one.
Just a feeling is enough.
Then let it go on the breath out.
Let's start with Monday.
Whatever it asked of you.
The inbox.
That first coffee, gone too fast.
Breathe in...
And let Monday go.
Long and slow.
Tuesday.
Maybe it was a blur.
Did you even have lunch?
If you can't remember, that's Breathe fine.
in...
And let it go.
Wednesday.
Everything a little Friday heavier.
still far away.
Breathe in...
And Wednesday out...
slides Thursday.
away.
You stayed up too Or late.
said yes when you meant no.
Breathe in...
And let it go.
And Friday.
The long line at the grocery store.
The relief of walking in the door.
Breathe in...
And out...
all of it.
And today, too.
The dishes can stay in the sink.
Let today go with the rest.
The week is behind you now.
Your mind knows it first.
Your body catches up a little later.
Start with your legs.
Imagine them sinking into warm sand.
Sand that held the sun all afternoon.
Heavy...
and warm.
Your feet were on hard floors all week.
Let them go loose now.
Let your calves soften.
Shoes that pinched by evening.
Those are off now.
Your hips settle.
Your lower back lets go of the chair.
It softens into the bed.
And the car seat.
All those hours in traffic.
Your shoulders.
They've been up near your ears...
since about Tuesday.
Let them drop.
Let the sand take them.
Your arms get heavy.
Your hands open.
All week they carried bags...
phones...
a steering wheel.
They can rest now.
Somebody else's problems, too.
You can set those down.
Your head sinks back into the pillow.
Warm...
like it weighs twice as much.
Just the rain now...
steady on the If glass.
a piece of the week floats back...
let the rain wash it off.
It can wait until Maybe Monday.
a message you never answered.
That's Your fine.
hands are resting.
Your breathing has slowed.
Your whole body...
low in the warm sand.
Breathing in...
And out...
Tomorrow is Sunday.
Sleep in, if you can.
The rain will keep going.
All night, if it wants.
You carried the whole week.
You can put it down Goodnight.
now.