Four guided sessions, each about one minute. No lessons, no streak to keep — just a short, complete pause before you go back to your day.
Rain against glass, and nothing else — no narration, no music underneath, no timer counting down at you. Just a window, and the rain on it, for as long as you want to sit with it.
In, hold, out — a soft ring expands and contracts at a gentle, unhurried pace, and you follow it. No counting out loud, no voice telling you you're doing it right. Just the shape of a breath to follow.
Hold one still touch on the screen, and hold it there. That's the whole session — no movement to make, nothing to get right, just the discipline of staying still for one minute.
Hold, then let go — a small weight you carry for a moment and then release, with a soft sound as it drops away. A physical shape for the feeling of setting something down.