Yoga nidra: Stomach meridian

Session text to read

Close your eyes gently.

Allow your body to settle into the surface beneath you. Feel the weight of your limbs releasing downward. Your heels, your calves, the backs of your thighs — all softening into the ground. Let your arms rest a little away from your body, palms facing upward. Your jaw unclenches. Your tongue drops from the roof of your mouth.

You are held. Completely and fully held.

Take a slow breath in, and as you breathe out, allow any effort to leave with it. You do not need to do anything here. You only need to receive.

Now, bring to your awareness a single, quiet intention. Let it arrive simply, without force. Something like: *I am nourished and steady.* Or perhaps your own words come. Whatever arises, let it settle into you like a seed pressed gently into warm soil.

We will now move awareness slowly through the body. You are not trying to change anything. You are only noticing, with soft attention.

Bring your awareness to your right foot. The sole of your foot. The second toe — the toe from which the Stomach meridian begins its long journey upward through the body. The ball of the foot. The top of the foot. The ankle.

Move awareness up along the shin, the right knee, the front of the right thigh. The hip. The right side of the abdomen — feel it gently rise and fall with breath.

Now the left foot. The sole. The second toe. The ball of the foot. The top of the foot. The ankle. Moving upward — the shin, the knee, the front of the left thigh. The hip. The left side of the abdomen.

Bring awareness to the belly. The stomach itself, sitting just below the ribcage. Notice if there is any holding here, any tightness, any swirling. You do not need to fix it. Simply acknowledge it, the way you might acknowledge a worried friend — with warmth, without judgment.

Move awareness upward along the chest. The collarbones. The throat — soft and open. The jaw. The cheeks. The area just below the eyes, where the Stomach meridian surfaces on the face. Let the muscles here release completely. The forehead. The crown.

Now simply breathe.

Breathe in slowly through the nose, and feel the belly rise — warm, round, full. Breathe out, and feel it soften. Breathe in. Breathe out. With each exhale, something loosens. The worry that has been circling quietly — you do not need to carry it right now. Let the breath do the carrying.

And now, an image begins to form behind your closed eyes.

It is the end of summer. The air is thick and golden, heavy with warmth. You are sitting in a field, and around you the earth is abundant — ripened fruits, turning leaves just beginning to blush, the smell of soil after a long day of sun. The light is amber. The ground beneath you is warm and firm and impossibly kind.

You are not separate from this earth. You are made of it. The same minerals, the same patience, the same quiet capacity to receive and to nourish.

Somewhere in your body, the worry that has been living there — you begin to see it differently now. It was only a sign of how much you care. And caring, when it rests, becomes something else. It becomes presence. It becomes trust.

You are fed by this moment. You do not need to earn it.

Let the warmth of the late summer earth move up through the base of your spine, through your belly, through your chest. A deep, golden settling. A fullness that asks nothing of you.

Return now, gently, to your intention. Feel it once more: *I am nourished and steady.* Let it move through you like warmth through still water.

Begin to deepen your breath. A slow inhale. A slow exhale. Feel the weight of your body against the floor — your heels, your back, your shoulders, your head. All present. All here.

Begin to bring small movements back. Gently wiggle your fingers. Your toes. Roll your wrists slowly. Take one long, full breath in, and let it go with a sigh.

When you are ready, draw your knees toward your chest and roll gently onto your side. Rest there for a moment, like a seed in the earth, before you find your way back to sitting.

Take your time. There is no hurry. You have everything you need.