Sleep story · sea, still
A lighthouse at the end of a long day (a sleep story), when you are on your own — for a night when you do not want to think
One light turning, a kettle, and weather you are on the right side of.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
A ship passes in the distance with its lights on, and then it does not. The window is thick and slightly green at the edges. The tea in your hands is too hot to drink and you are just holding it.
There is a chair pulled up to the window that fits exactly one person. Below, the sea is doing what it does at night, which is mostly nothing. The lighthouse turns once every fifteen seconds, and you have stopped counting it.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
There is a logbook open on the table with the last entry in someone else's handwriting. The light goes out across the water and comes back, and goes out again.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Feel your wrists loosen.
Feel your cheeks let go. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
Your coat is on the hook by the door, still wet at the shoulders. The room at the top is small, round and warm, with a kettle on a ring.
Let your palms open if they were closed. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
The wind is doing a low, steady thing against the glass. The lighthouse will keep turning whether you watch it or not.
Let the mattress take all of it. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
Notice the exact moment your attention left. You probably won't catch it. That's normal. If you feel numb, that's a valid thing to feel. Nothing to fix.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Your ankles can go loose now.
Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet.
Slower now. Let the dark be ordinary. Let the room get slightly further away.
Just the breath. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. Just the dark.
Being on your own is not required, but it does make this simpler.
Let everything get quiet, including this.