Find a comfortable position—sitting or lying down. Let your body settle.
Take a slow, gentle breath in… and out.
Again… in… and out.
Now, imagine yourself stepping into a quiet clearing in the woods.
It’s night, and the air carries that crisp, unmistakable scent of autumn—cool, earthy, clean.
The sky is deep and dark, sprinkled with stars that seem to shimmer with their own soft breath.
In front of you is a campfire.
The flames are low and steady, glowing amber and gold, dancing in slow, deliberate waves.
You walk toward it and feel the warmth reach you before you even sit down.
Choose a place close enough to feel comforted, far enough to feel safe.
You settle in.
The ground beneath you is cool, the air just a hint cold on your cheeks,
but the fire casts a gentle blanket of warmth over your front side.
Breathe into that contrast—everything balanced, everything in harmony.
Listen.
There’s the soft crackle of wood, each pop like a tiny spark of life.
A log shifts, glowing deeper, and the fire responds with a warm sigh.
The wind moves through the trees, slow and hushed, as if the whole forest is exhaling with you.
Breathing in…
you inhale the scent of burning cedar and fallen leaves.
Breathing out…
you release whatever weight you brought with you tonight.
Feel your shoulders drop.
Feel your jaw soften.
Feel the muscles around your eyes ease.
Let your belly expand naturally with each breath—no forcing, no striving.
Above you, a leaf drifts down, landing near your foot.
You notice its shape, its faded color, its edges curled from the season’s chill.
Let it remind you: it is natural to change.
It is natural to let go.
It is natural to rest.
The fire glows brighter for a moment,
as if it recognizes you—your tiredness, your effort, your bravery.
It doesn’t ask anything of you.
It simply burns, offering warmth without demand.
Let yourself mirror that simplicity.
Nothing to solve right now.
Nothing to prove.
Just the quiet presence of your breath
and the steady heartbeat of the fire.
Take another slow inhale…
and exhale even slower.
Feel the peace of this moment settle into you, like warm embers beneath your ribs.
Let it linger.
Let it stay.
When you’re ready, gently bring awareness back to your body.
Wiggle your fingers, your toes.
Feel whatever surface supports you.
Carry this warmth with you as you return.
It is yours whenever you need it—
this fire, this stillness, this breath.
Crow and Flame 