It's election night.
Maybe you've been refreshing for hours.
However you're feeling right now...
hopeful, tense, worn out...
it's allowed.
Tonight is only about rest.
Nothing else.
Pick up your phone one last time.
Turn the sound off.
Turn it face down.
Now set it somewhere you can't reach.
The dresser.
The floor across the room.
Notice how your hand wants it back.
That's normal.
Let the hand rest anyway.
Lie back.
Let your head find the pillow.
For the next six minutes...
you don't have to watch anything.
TV still on in the other room?
Turn it off if you can.
Or let it be a far-off murmur.
Let your eyes close.
Listen to the soft rain.
It's falling on every house tonight.
Every street.
The same soft rain for everyone.
Let's check how you're doing.
Honestly.
A night like this takes a lot.
Even if you sat still the whole time.
Waiting is tiring.
Nobody really talks about that.
Your eyes might feel dry.
From the screen.
Your neck might be stiff.
From looking down.
Maybe your stomach is a little tight.
Or your heart is still quick.
Nothing is wrong with you.
You were paying attention.
That takes energy.
Let your eyes soften behind the lids.
Like they're sinking back a little.
Let your neck lengthen on the pillow.
It doesn't have to hold your head up.
Let your hands uncurl.
They've been gripping a phone all night.
Let your belly go soft.
Nobody's watching.
Maybe you talked about it all day.
At work.
At the kitchen counter.
You don't have to talk about it now.
Your voice can rest too.
Let your tongue go loose.
Let your lips part a little.
Here's something you can say to yourself.
Quietly.
Or just in your head.
I have done my part.
Whatever your part was today.
Voting...
helping...
or simply caring.
It counts.
And it's done.
Say it once more.
I have done my part.
And here's the next one.
The morning will bring what it brings.
You don't have to know it tonight.
Staying up won't change the count.
It only changes how tired you'll be.
The people counting will keep counting.
They don't need you awake for it.
Tomorrow you can read it all.
Over coffee.
With clear eyes.
Now let's breathe into the belly.
One hand there, if you like.
Breathe in slowly...
feel your hand rise.
breathe out...
slower than you breathed in.
In again...
the belly getting round.
And out...
the shoulders sinking.
In...
And a long, easy breath out.
The morning will bring what it brings.
No more checking.
Just resting.
Rain on the windowpane.
Steady and soft.
Your phone is dark across the room.
Let it stay dark.
If your mind wants one more look...
let the wanting pass.
Like a yawn you don't follow.
You're off the clock now.
Even from watching.
Your body is warm.
Your breathing is slow.
Breathing in...
And out...
Everything will still be there...
in the morning.
You'll meet it rested.
For now, just the rain.
Sleep well tonight.