Sleep story · quiet, home
Sleep story: the house after everyone is asleep, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for a restless night
The hour when the house belongs to nobody and nothing needs doing.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
The lamp beside you is the only light left on in the whole house. Everyone went to bed an hour ago, and the house has stopped making the sounds it makes during the day. Outside, a car goes past and its headlights sweep across the ceiling, then are gone.
The radiator clicks once as it cools down. There is nothing left on the list for today. The fridge hums on and off in the kitchen, and that is the loudest thing in the building.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
The floorboards have stopped creaking because nobody is walking on them. The curtains are not quite closed, and there is a thin line of streetlight along the wall.
Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.
Notice the pull to make this mean something. It doesn't have to. Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Let the dark be ordinary. Just the dark.
Leave it there. Just the breath. Let the quiet be boring.
Midday is an underrated time for this.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.