Deep Unwind: Summer Road Trip 🚗

Deep Unwind: Summer Road Trip 🚗 

There's something about a summer road trip that invites you to let go...

The destination matters, of course—but somewhere along the way, the journey itself becomes the point. Mile after mile, the landscape unfolds, thoughts begin to soften, and life settles into a slower, steadier rhythm.

In this Deep Unwind, you'll travel the legendary Route 66 through the wide-open landscapes of Arizona. After getting nourished in a cozy roadside diner with a good friend, you'll climb into a classic station wagon and head west beneath an endless blue sky. As the miles pass, you'll find that the road isn't simply carrying you across the country—it's carrying you inward.

This Unwind includes: Guided hypnosis, deep relaxation, Route 66, sensory visualization, nervous system regulation, parasympathetic relaxation, personal growth and American landscapes.

Transcript

SPEAKER_02 0:00

Hi everyone, this is Jessica, and welcome to Unwind, a podcast where we come home to ourselves, so we can explore relaxation and ask the question what do we find when we unwind? What are you finding when you're unwinding? See, it rhymes either way. Participle or just a great verb. I love it. Um what are you finding though? I want to hear from you guys. See, I think relaxation is like the great current where everything flows and all sorts of good things happen when we tune in to that current. So let's talk about it. You can reach me on Instagram or my website or at Patreon. That's patreon.com. Search for Jessica Porter. Follow, support, do whatever you want. Let's talk. Okay. Tonight. Summer road trip. You know, when I first moved to California, I drove out here from Maine. But it wasn't the first time I had traversed America by car. In fact, when I was 28, I took a four-month road trip by myself, visiting friends along the way. But in my little red Jeep, I went to 37 states. It was amazing. And a really important experience in my life. And I think what's amazing about a road trip is that you basically have to surrender to the experience. I mean, like with regular travel sure, you have to surrender to the traveling part. I mean, you can't. It doesn't make sense to get all upset on a plane. You can't speed it up. You know, airports can be crazy, but the traveling part of a trip is finite. And when you get to the place you're going, you can reestablish some illusion of control if you want to. Like your bags are packed the way you want them to be. You're in a hotel that you want to be in, etc. You're doing what you want to be doing. You can feel more agency. But a road trip? Well, the travel is the experience. The unfolding. The unwinding. As you cover mile after mile, still connected to the earth. As the planet unfolds beneath you. Believe me, I count myself as a lazy person in that equation. What I mean is that, you know, other spiritual pursuits. Like meditation. I mean, we can meditate for hours at a time and we release layers of ourselves. Like we allow the ego to soften and sort of melt some of its pattern. I mean, that's one of the big benefits purposes of meditation. But moving your body through space pokes the ego at every turn. Change, different strangers, new time zones, new languages, new currency, new weather. You name it. It takes you right out of your comfort zone. Everything's new, every mile. It forces you to grow. And that's what I love about a road trip. Is that you think you're just covering distance outside of you. But the distance you're covering is inside of you, too. You change on a road trip. I say all this because I'm going on a road trip with my friend Amy this summer. And by the time this episode is out, I may be on the road. And I'll be posting about it on the socials and Patreon. It'll be two middle-aged women. Two cats who just even on a regular day when I take them in their cases in the car to the vet. Scream like I'm murdering them. Uh-oh. All four of us going across America. And we will be changed by that. I am so excited. Watch out, America. We're coming for you. So tonight, we are going on a drive on historic Route 66, heading west in Arizona. So get yourself into a cozy and comfortable position. And let's unwind. Just let your eyes close softly and gently. Huh. As you settle in to your inner world. Notice your breath. That wave of the breath. How cool it is that you have this wave going all the time. And as you hang out with your breath, you're coming into alignment with other waves and other rhythms inside of you. As you begin to unwind. Let them rest. And as your eyelids are resting, feeling nice and heavy, all the muscles around your eyes are softening and relaxing. And as those muscles around your eyes are letting go, your entire nervous system is following. And as your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, I'd like you to imagine that they cannot open. Logic will tell you that you can open your eyes, and that's true. But your imagination is keeping them closed. So now let's play our little game. As you test your eyelids by wiggling your eyebrows, just give them a tug while your eyes remain closed. Because you are with your imagination. As your eyelids are feeling heavier and even heavier. And you are going deeper and deeper. It's a ball of yarn. These are all the thoughts you've been thinking all day. And you imagine now that one end of that ball of yarn is coming out a little hole in your forehead. And now you're pulling on that yarn. And as you're pulling, the ball of yarn is unwinding. Unwinding. And your thoughts are releasing. Releasing. And the ball of yarn is getting smaller now. Smaller. Smaller. Now it's unwinding completely. And the other end of the ball of yarn is coming out that hole. And your mind feels clear. Open peaceful. As your head becomes heavy on the pillow, and the muscles of your face are softening. As you are going deeper and deeper.

SPEAKER_00 12:00

Heavy and relaxed. Good.

SPEAKER_02 12:13

And that wave of peace now is moving down through your torso into your chest around your heart. Wave peace moving down through you. Down into your pelvis. All the way down into your feet and your toes. Full wave of peace from the top of your head down through your arms. Down through your torso. Down through your legs as your whole body feels heavy, heavy on the bed, and your breath sinks deeper into your belly as you bring your awareness to any sounds that may be going on around you. And deeper. They're just vibrations moving through your body, taking you deeper, just as my voice is also taking you deeper and deeper. Imagine now you are in a diner on historic route sixty-six. Outside the Arizona sun shines brightly in a vast blue sky. But you are inside, cool and comfortable. You run your hand along it, cool beneath your fingertips. It smells of coffee, hash browns, and fresh cherry pie. Sunlight is pouring through the large front windows, casting warm rectangles of light across the black and white tile floor. This place has welcomed travelers for decades. Road trippers, truck drivers, families on vacation. Cool, sweet, perfect on this summer afternoon. Across the room, you see a chrome jukebox. It has colored lights shining behind curved glass. A song begins. Peaceful, easy feeling by the eagles drifts through the diner. It causes you to sway slightly in the booth as you go deeper and deeper. Clinking against plates. You nod to each other. Slide out of the booth and stand up. Have a good trip, says the waitress. Warm and dry. The sun is strong. You walk towards your car. It's a nineteen seventy-four Ford Station Wagon with fake wood siding. The perfect car for a road trip. Feels so nice to walk. As you take some deep breaths. You feel good in your body, relaxed, comfortable, out here, in the middle of nowhere. You look out across this tiny stretch of town. You see old storefronts, faded signs, the cloudless sky expanding endlessly overhead. You open the car door and settle into the passenger side of the wide bench seat. It's almost like a vinyl sofa extending from one side of the car to the other. They don't make them like this anymore. The upholstery feels toasty, soft. It's been warming in the sun. Your friend starts the engine. The air conditioner comes to life. You fasten your seatbelt and slide on your sunglasses. The car moves forward slowly. You hear the crunch of gravel as you drive across the parking lot. And as you ease back onto Route Sixty Six, you feel a subtle shift inside of you as you let go and relax going deeper and deeper. You're heading west. So the sun is coming through the windshield. So you bring down the sun visor. You drive through this tiny town. Now you're on the open road. The afternoon is opening, and something within you is opening too. The town slips far behind you, and the road stretches far ahead. Your friend's hand is resting comfortably on the wheel. The radio is playing softly. It's a country song this time. And the horizon seems impossibly wide. You open the glove compartment and take out an old paper map and unfold it just to get a sense of where you're going. Stretching more than two thousand miles, it linked towns and cities, mountains and plains, deserts, and the coast. For generations of Americans, this road became a symbol of movement, possibility, adventure. It soon earned the nickname The Mother Road. Families traveled along Route 66 in search of opportunity. Vacationers loaded their station wagons with suitcases looking for a break from daily life. College students set off west with nothing more than curiosity, pack of gum, and a tank of gas. The mother road has inspired musicians, writers, dreamers. And as the miles pass beneath you now, you understand why. Nothing to organize. Nothing to manage. Route 66 asks only one thing of you. To continue. To simply step on the gas and be. Again and again. A steady rhythm. A moving meditation. As you look out at the hills, tracing their outline.

SPEAKER_00 31:10

Now up at the sky, so big, so blue.

SPEAKER_02 31:24

Now your awareness is floating inside of you into your past. Remembering, reliving as layers of your life are breathing and releasing, rearranging themselves as the mother road holds you. On both sides of the road. You notice their silvery bark and twisting branches as they reach out to one another. You open your window and smell the faint scent of the junipers, resinous, sweet. Driving through the shade of them as you go deeper and deeper. Standing alone against the sky.