Shelley Jo

Wyoming, United States

Explore your divine essence by releasing your personal story and resting in pure, timeless awareness.

English

What if forgetting was never a mistake, but the doorway? This guided meditation leads you into a moment where memory, identity, and story gently fall silent, revealing the quiet presence that remains beneath it all. Through breath and imagination, it explores the idea that to live fully in human form requires a sacred forgetting—and that awareness itself is what endures. The journey offers a tender sense of homecoming, reminding you that nothing essential has been lost, only lovingly set aside so it can be felt again.
Meditation Music by Playstarz_music

You Were Never Lost: Beyond Identity And Memory

Hello, and welcome. I'd like to welcome you here to this guided meditation, guided visualization and journey. And today, we're going to talk about forgetfulness, but forgetfulness in a very specific way. Specifically, when we are born and we come into this human experience, we forget our divine nature. We forget where we ultimately come from. We forget the cosmic beginnings and stardust that we are. So today, we'll talk about that using a few quotes to set the stage of this forgetfulness, and then we'll go into our journey together. So the first quote is by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, and it is, We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience. Just allow that to settle in. And the second is by William Wadsworth, and he says, Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. The soul that rises within us, our life star, hath had elsewhere its setting, and cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come, from God, or the divine, or Source, who is our home. So I invite you to settle in here, with those quotes permeating in the background, and just take a moment now to settle in for the meditation, get as comfortable as possible, find a really comfortable position, either seated or lying down. Just allow your body to really settle in. Allow your eyes to close gently, or soften your gaze, and just begin by noticing your breath, gentle breaths in and out. There's no need to change it, just notice the inhale, and the exhale, and with each breath out, let the body soften, let the shoulders drop, let the jaw unclench, and let the nervous system know it's safe to rest. Now imagine this, you wake up one day, and you cannot remember anything. You don't know your age, whether you are 30, 40, 50. You don't remember your name. You don't remember where you live, or what your house looks like. You don't even remember your car, your job, or your history. You also don't remember the people who love you. You don't remember the animals who wait for you. You don't remember your beliefs, your opinions, even your preferences. You don't remember your successes, or your mistakes. Even your core values feel blank, as if the slate has been wiped completely clean. Notice what remains. You are still breathing. Your heart is still beating. Awareness is still here. There is still a presence, awake, sensing, perceiving. Even without memory, you still exist. Imagine looking at your hands. You don't know what they've done, but they are here. You feel the weight of your body, but you don't know where it's been, but it's here. There is a quiet aliveness moving through you. Something intelligent. Something steady. Ask gently, without words, what am I, if I remember nothing? Now widen this image. Imagine this amnesia is not an accident, but a design. Imagine that before this life, before this body, this name, this story, you were something vast. You were stardust, expansive light, source itself, moving freely, endlessly, and to choose to enter a human body. You chose this. You chose density. You chose form. You chose limitation. And with that choice came forgetting, not as punishment, but as an experience. Because to remember fully, you must first forget. Just like the person with amnesia, you arrive with no memory of who you've been. No recall of what you already are. The essence is untouched. Feel into that now. Beneath your name, beneath your roles, beneath your personality and your past, there is something older than memory. Something that does not depend on belief. Something that does not disappear when the story does. It is awareness itself. It is being. It is the same presence that looked out through you before you ever knew how to think. You don't need to remember your divinity to be divine. You don't need to remember source to be source. Just like the person with amnesia is still fully themselves. Even without access to the past. Now imagine this. Each breath in is a soft remembering. Not remembering facts, but remembering feeling. A subtle sense of home. A quiet recognition. A warmth in the chest. A spaciousness behind the eyes. And each breath out is a release of the belief that you are small, separate, or incomplete. You are not here to force remembrance. You are here to allow it. Remembrance happens not in the mind, but in presence. Not through effort, but through stillness. As awareness. As being. As the one who temporarily forgot, and is now gently, lovingly remembering. You don't have to know who you are. You simply have to be. Begin to notice your breath again. Begin to notice the body resting on the surface beneath you. Notice the subtle sounds around you. And carry this knowing with you. You are not broken. You are not lost. You are not late. You are source. Having a human experience. And forgetting was always part of the journey. I invite you to just slowly feel into your body. Feel into this experience. Gently start to wiggle your fingers and toes. Maybe gentle movements. In your own time. You can sit in this stillness if you'd like. In your own time. Come back into connection. And when you gently open your eyes, bring this remembrance of who you are. Thank you so much for joining me today. I love you. Because I can. May you bring this remembrance with you always. Namaste.