Sleep story · rain, green
A garden in the rain (a sleep story), when the house is busy — for an overtired night
Steady rain on leaves, and a chair under an awning that stays dry.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
The earth smells the way it does after a long dry spell. The rain on the roof of the awning is a lower sound than the rain on the leaves. The path has gone darker where it is wet, and there are two small puddles near the step.
The rain has settled into the kind that will last all afternoon without getting heavier. Under the awning it is dry, and the sound is a steady, unhurried patter. There is nothing to do about any of it, which is the good part.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Your chest can be still now.
Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
Water runs off the gutter in a thin, continuous line. The watering can by the tap is full and nobody needs it.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
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.
There is a wooden bench that nobody has sat on for an hour. A snail is making its way along the bottom of the wall, going nowhere in particular.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
Somewhere in the hedge, a bird is sitting it out. The leaves in the border are dark and glossy and moving slightly.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let your hands be completely still.
Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times. Notice anything you're holding onto from earlier today.
Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
Let them. Let the dark be ordinary.
Leave it there. Just the breath. Let the next part go past without you.
Let the room get slightly further away. The words can start to blur now. Slower.
It works with other people in the house. You do not need silence.
The end. Sleep well.