Sleep story · rain, green
Sleep story: a garden in the rain, when you are doing this for the first time — 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 watering can by the tap is full and nobody needs it. The rain on the roof of the awning is a lower sound than the rain on the leaves. The leaves in the border are dark and glossy and moving slightly.
The earth smells the way it does after a long dry spell. The rain has settled into the kind that will last all afternoon without getting heavier. There is a wooden bench that nobody has sat on for an hour.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
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.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Your fingers can stop doing anything at all.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
A snail is making its way along the bottom of the wall, going nowhere in particular. Somewhere in the hedge, a bird is sitting it out.
Your ankles can go loose now. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
The path has gone darker where it is wet, and there are two small puddles near the step. Water runs off the gutter in a thin, continuous line.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.
Water runs off the gutter in a thin, continuous line. Somewhere in the hedge, a bird is sitting it out.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
A snail is making its way along the bottom of the wall, going nowhere in particular. There is nothing to do about any of it, which is the good part.
Notice the tone of your own inner voice. Is it kind? If your mind is quiet, don't grab at it. Quiet comes and goes too.
Feel your cheeks let go. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.
Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Softer.
Stay with the weight of your body. Slower now. Nothing here needs following closely.
Let them. They will find their own way out. Just the weight.
If this is your first go, stay with the plainest version of the instructions.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.