I want you to sit down because I need to tell you something.

I need to ask you to do something.

I need you to sit at the edge of your seat with your feet rooted to the floor.

And your hands placed palms down on your thighs,

with your spine reaching towards me.

Eyes closed.

And I want you to relax your lower stomach as if there is a flower blooming there. Opening there.

That entire region from hip bone to hip bone is spacious now.

This is your beautiful beginning.

You prayed for how to initiate it, how to start it, how to stop the suffering, how to begin living.

You recognized that you weren't living.

You were waiting chronically.

Intention. That's what intentions are. Tension. But you're waking up from waking life, from intending for yourself to allowing me to show you more, to give you more.

I am giving you more now. Because you're no longer under the impression that it's your effort or your karma or your will.

You couldn't do this.

You couldn't do it.

Only I am.

You are coming to a point where even words are too much to bear, too much to hear, where any

sound other than my revealed name is like static on the line.

But it's at this point that you must soften even more.

Rigidity and restlessness are hallmarks of waking life.

Allow what you call noise, what you see as triggers this tension to wake you up again and

...