Tonight the world is dim and quiet.
There is a garden that only opens after sunset.
You do not need to search for it.
It appears when you are ready to rest.
Taking a deep breath in.
And out.
Letting your body relax.
Imagine stepping through a small wooden gate.
It closes softly behind you.
Inside the air is cool.
The scent of night blooming jasmine drifts gently.
The sky above is deep indigo.
Stars scattered like soft lanterns.
There is no wind here.
Only stillness.
A narrow stone path leads you toward a small clearing.
Your feet are bare.
You feel the ground beneath them.
Calm.
Cool.
Steady.
Safe.
With each step your body begins to slow.
Your breath lengthens naturally.
You reach the center of the garden.
There is a patch of soft moss waiting for you.
You lie down.
The moss supports you effortlessly.
Notice the weight of your heels.
The backs of your legs.
The resting of your hips.
Nothing needs adjusting.
The earth is meeting you fully.
Bring your awareness to your feet.
Feel the cool night air around them.
And as you exhale.
Allow them to soften.
Ankles loose.
Calves heavy.
Knees resting.
The scent of jasmine deepens slightly.
Subtle.
Not overpowering.
Your thighs soften.
Your hips widen.
Your belly releases completely.
No holding.
No bracing.
Just the gentle rise as you inhale.
And the fall as you exhale.
Above you the stars glow steadily.
They do not flicker.
They do not fade.
They do not demand attention.
They simply exist.
Bring awareness to your chest.
Notice the rhythm there.
The heart beating quietly.
Supported.
Your shoulders sink further into the moss.
Arms heavy.
Hands open.
Fingers relaxed.
The cool night air touches your throat.
Your jaw loosens.
Tongue resting.
Forehead smooth.
The tiny muscles behind your eyes soften.
Your thoughts drift in.
Imagine them as fireflies.
They glow briefly.
Then fade into the night.
You do not chase them.
The garden holds everything.
There is nothing to prepare for tomorrow.
The night garden does not run on clocks.
Time slows here.
Your whole body now resting as one feels.
Feet to crown.
Supported.
Breathing.
Safe.
With each exhale,
You sink slightly deeper into the moss.
As if the earth is gently receiving you.
Your nervous system recognises this stillness.
It begins to descend.
Slower breath.
Heavier limbs.
Quieter mind.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to drift.
The garden remains.
The stars remain.
And you may sleep beneath them.
Thank you for watching.
