Being Here – Day 7
Being Here – Poem Day 7
Today’s piece is a listening poem you’ve already heard.
It’s shared again intentionally — not as repetition to work on, but as something you’re welcome to return to. You don’t need to listen in the same way as before, or even all the way through. You can listen briefly, fully, or not at all.
As always, there’s nothing to get right here.
You’re free to come back, pause, or move on.
(I have included the text if you like to read it as well)
Warmly,
Per
When everything feels too much
The world is wide enough for you to be here.
Sky above, ground below,
space all around without closing in.
The body is already in this moment,
held by something solid,
resting where it is.
Weight settles downward,
not pulled,
not pushed,
simply finding where it belongs.
There is time here.
Nothing is chasing this moment.
Nothing is about to happen.
Breath moves on its own,
slow enough to feel,
steady enough to trust,
arriving and leaving without effort.
The chest begins to soften,
not opening wide,
just easing enough
to make room for being here.
Warmth appears quietly,
spreading from the centre outward,
not rushing,
not needing to go anywhere.
The body recognises this before the mind does.
Muscles loosen their grip.
The urge to run loses its urgency.
Thoughts may still move,
sounds may still exist,
but they pass through a larger space now.
There is a sense of being accompanied,
not by anyone else,
but by the body itself,
steady and present.
This moment does not ask you to change.
It does not ask you to understand.
It allows you to remain.
You are here,
inside a body that knows how to hold you,
inside a moment that is not demanding more.
For now,
that is enough.
