| Length | 10:58 |
|---|---|
| Subject | Love, Empathy & Other People |
| Best time | Before you go out into people, or after a day full of them |
| Position | Sitting or lying down |
| Style | Guided imagery, a wall and a garden gate, with three wishes. Music underneath |
Built a wall to keep the world out, and now it feels like a prison? A meditation for boundaries with a gate.
About 11 minutes with Steven Webb's calm voice and music underneath.
Imagine a wall around you, all the way round, to keep out everything that stings. At first it feels wonderful. Then the strange thing: inside the wall our own strength goes soft, like a leg in plaster. And one day we need people again, and the world never reads our rules. So we try a garden with a gate instead, and tend what grows inside it. A little wisdom, a little strength, a little kindness. Then three gentle wishes with a hand on your heart. May I be safe with my gate open. May I be loved just as I am. May I be strong enough to let the world in. A boundary was never meant to be a prison. It is a garden edge, and you hold the key.
The companion talk episode: Gates, Not Thorns: Are Your Boundaries a Prison?
Treat me to a coffee, keep the podcast free, and get my Weekly Calm every Sunday. It is all on stevenwebb.uk
Thank you for sitting with me.
Steven
Who this is for
You have started keeping the world out. A sharp word, a rude driver, a room full of people, and the answer is another bit of wall. Maybe somebody told you to set boundaries and you set them everywhere. Now it is quiet in there, and safe, and a bit like a prison.
That is not a failing. The wall was built for a reason and it worked. The trouble is what it does over time. Inside it, our own strength goes soft. We never need our courage, so it gets sleepy. Then one day we need people again, because we always do, and the world never read our rules.
This is a loving-kindness meditation for boundaries that open. A gate, not a wall.
What happens in this meditation
It opens with the body relaxing on its own and the breath being watched, not managed. I say what I mean by boundary before we go anywhere. Knowing what we can carry today and what we cannot. Not a wall. A gate we look after, and we choose when it opens.
Then the picture. A wall all the way round, keeping out everything that stings. How lovely it feels at first. And the strange thing that happens inside it, like a leg in plaster. Protected, and weak when it comes out.
So we try a garden with a gate instead, and tend what grows inside. A little wisdom, a little strength, a little kindness. Three wishes with a hand on your heart, each said twice, and a count back from five.
How to get the most from it
Just under eleven minutes. Best before something you have been putting off. A family thing, a room of people, a phone call. It also works after a day when you let too much in, as a reminder that the gate closes too.
The line to carry is that your rules are only ever written on the inside of the wall. Nobody out there can read them. So the answer is not a taller wall. It is more of you.
Sitting or lying down are both fine. If the count back at the end is not for you, stop at the wishes.
Questions people ask
Is this saying I should not have boundaries?
No. It says boundaries are for you to use, not walls to live behind. I have boundaries. They are not set in stone. I can open the gate and I can close the gate. Some days the gate stays shut, and that is fine. Most days it can open a little wider than we think.
What are the three wishes?
May I be safe with my gate open. May I be loved just as I am. May I be strong enough to let the world in. Each one is said twice, slowly. A hand on your heart helps you feel them rather than just hear them.
Is there a talk episode that goes with this?
Yes. Gates, Not Thorns on Stillness in the Storms is where the idea started. That one is the thinking. This one is the practice.
