Welcome.
I'm glad you're here.
You've chosen a meditation designed to support you as you fall asleep and remain asleep through the night.
My voice will gently guide you for a short while and then it will fade away,
Leaving you with a steady sound of rain all night long.
You don't need to stay awake for this.
You don't need to concentrate or get it right.
If you fall asleep at any point,
Your body will continue receiving exactly what it needs.
Take a moment to sense that tonight.
There is nowhere else that you need to be,
Nothing that you need to monitor,
Nothing that you need to hold together.
Begin by noticing where your body makes contact with the surface beneath you.
The weight of you being met,
Supported,
And held.
You might notice the rise and fall of your breath,
Or the temperature of the air around you,
Or the feeling of stillness beginning to arrive.
There's absolutely no need to change anything.
If your body feels tired,
Restless,
Tense,
Or alert,
All of that is welcome here.
Sleep doesn't require your body to be perfectly relaxed.
It only asks that you allow yourself to stop efforting.
Let gravity do a little more of the work for you now,
As if your body is gently sinking,
Settling,
Being claimed by rest.
Notice the sound of the rain.
Rain is steady,
Predictable.
It doesn't ask anything of you.
Let the rain become something your nervous system can lean into,
A signal of continuity,
Of safety,
Of rhythm.
Each drop can be a reminder that you don't need to stay alert tonight.
The rain is keeping watch.
If your mind begins to wander,
That's okay.
You don't need to follow through to any thought conclusions.
You can imagine thoughts dissolving into the rain,
Softened and carried away.
Again and again,
You're invited back to this simple experience.
You're being supported,
Being accommodated,
And being allowed to rest.
Tonight,
You might want to offer your body a quiet reassurance.
Right now,
I'm safe enough to rest.
You don't need to be completely calm.
You don't need to feel peaceful.
Your body can rest or sleep,
Even while parts of you are still unwinding.
If there are places inside you that are still holding on,
Watchful,
Protective,
Alert,
You don't need to push them away.
You might gently let them know,
Nothing needs to be solved tonight.
We can return to this tomorrow.
Let your jaw soften,
Your shoulders drop,
Your belly soft and unguarded.
If sleep comes,
Let it come.
If it comes slowly,
That's okay too.
Your body is still resting,
Even if you're not asleep.
In a moment,
My voice will begin to fade.
You don't need to listen for when it goes.
You don't need to stay aware.
The rain will continue steadily through the night,
Offering a familiar,
Grounded presence if you wake at any point.
If you do wake,
You can simply listen to the rain.
No story,
No effort,
Just sound and rest.
Allow yourself now to drift into sleep,
Into softness,
Into the kind of rest that comes when you are no longer trying.
