Sleep story · rain, green
A garden in the rain — a slow story for the end of the day, after a long day — for a restless night
Steady rain on leaves, and a chair under an awning that stays dry.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
A snail is making its way along the bottom of the wall, going nowhere in particular. The rain on the roof of the awning is a lower sound than the rain on the leaves. Somewhere in the hedge, a bird is sitting it out.
The rain has settled into the kind that will last all afternoon without getting heavier. Water runs off the gutter in a thin, continuous line. The earth smells the way it does after a long dry spell.
Let your palms open if they were closed. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
Feel your wrists loosen. Your fingers can stop doing anything at all.
There is a wooden bench that nobody has sat on for an hour. Under the awning it is dry, and the sound is a steady, unhurried patter.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
There is nothing to do about any of it, which is the good part. The leaves in the border are dark and glossy and moving slightly.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
The watering can by the tap is full and nobody needs it. The path has gone darker where it is wet, and there are two small puddles near the step.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Your chest can be still now.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
Somewhere in the hedge, a bird is sitting it out. The rain has settled into the kind that will last all afternoon without getting heavier.
If you feel emotional, you don't have to explain it to anyone, including yourself. Notice whether you're breathing or holding. Start breathing again.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Let your hands be completely still.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Sleep.
Let the quiet be boring. Slower. Let the next part go past without you.
Nothing here needs following closely. Leave it there. The words can start to blur now.
Use it at the end of a long day, not at the start of one.
The end. Sleep well.