Sleep story · winter, still
A field under snow (a sleep story), if you are fitting this around other people — for a restless night
Everything muffled, everything white, and no tracks but yours.
Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
There are no footprints anywhere except the ones behind you. The snow on the branches is holding, and every so often a small amount slides off. The sound of your own boots is the loudest thing for half a mile.
The air is so cold it feels dry, and your breath is visible for a long time. The fence posts are capped with snow and look shorter than they are. Your hands are warm inside your gloves and cold at the wrists.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
Let the mattress take all of it. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.
The farmhouse at the top of the hill has one window lit. Nothing in this field needs to be done today or tomorrow.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
Let your hands be completely still. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
The light is flat and grey and does not cast shadows. The snow came down all afternoon and has now stopped, leaving the field completely unmarked.
Notice the moment you realise you've drifted. That moment is the whole skill. Notice how quickly your mind labels things: good, bad, boring, nice.
Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
You do not have to count them. Stay.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Let the dark be ordinary. Just the breath.
It is designed to fit around other people’s schedules.
Let everything get quiet, including this.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for winter, still.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a garden in the rain, when you are at home and cannot settle — for winding down, A fire dying down — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have already had a long week — for jet lag or A hotel room somewhere, when you are somewhere unfamiliar — for jet lag.