Hello,
My friend.
Welcome to your sleep story.
My name is Stephen Dalton.
I'm an Irish storyteller,
And it's my great privilege to be the voice that you listen to as you go to sleep tonight.
One of you recently requested that I write a story about a sloth,
And I jumped at the opportunity.
I've always loved sloths and how they move so slowly and how they do so little in their days.
So I came up with a character called Sol the Sleepy Sloth.
When I was in acting school in London,
I had to study animals,
And my chosen animal was the sloth.
I had to study how it moved and how it saw the world.
Okay,
Let's do the relaxation session now,
Which will take a few minutes,
Before tonight's sleep story.
I'm going to count down from ten to one,
And as I do,
Allow yourself to let go more and more.
Ten.
Feel the support of the bed beneath you.
Or the floor.
Or whatever you lie upon tonight.
Really feel that support.
And as you do,
Allow yourself to let go a little more now.
And beneath whatever you lie upon,
Know that the earth is supporting you.
Feel the solidity of it.
The constantness of it.
It is always there,
Supporting you.
So just let go now.
You are safe.
Allow my voice to be an anchor of safety for you tonight.
Know that I will not take you anywhere that is unsafe.
Allow my voice to be a friend.
To be a calming guide.
And see if this feeling of safety can enable you to let go a little bit more now.
Feel into your body.
Where are you holding tonight?
Maybe it's in your feet.
Maybe your lower legs.
Maybe your belly.
Maybe your chest.
Or maybe your face.
I know I always hold in my face.
See if you can just relax everything now.
Seven.
The day is done.
Whatever has been,
Has been.
And whatever will be,
Will be.
Whatever thoughts you may still be having tonight,
They are not useful now.
Don't fight them.
See them for what they are.
Thoughts.
Allow them to arrive.
Even welcome them.
And then,
Gently,
Watch them depart.
Like leaves on a moonlit river.
Or clouds passing in a moonlit sky.
Six.
Peace lives within you.
It is always there,
Waiting to be found.
See if you can find it tonight.
See if you can say hello to that peace.
For it is your constant friend.
And if you do feel it,
Where do you feel it?
Is it in your head?
Or is it in your heart?
Five.
This is your moment.
This is your time.
You have nowhere to go.
Nowhere to be.
Allow that fact to enable you to let go a little more now.
To really be in this moment.
Four.
Perhaps feel a little gratitude now for the shelter you have tonight,
For the simple things,
Like your body and your breath,
For the ability to listen to this sleep story tonight.
Three.
Begin to engage with your imagination now.
Begin to see a beautiful rainforest and one particular tree,
A very inviting,
Homely-looking tree.
And begin to see a kindly-looking,
Sleepy-looking sloth.
Enjoying its time on its favorite branch.
Two.
Check in with your body one more time now.
See where you might still be holding.
And if you are holding anywhere,
Feel the release.
Completely letting go now,
As I tell you tonight's sleep story.
Saw the sloth is sleepy today.
In fact,
Saw the sloth is sleepy most days.
He lives in the heart of a quiet rainforest.
And Saw's life,
Well,
It's all about taking it easy.
He spends most of his time resting in the crook of a sturdy branch,
High up in a tree that he's claimed as his own.
Now the world around him is alive with movement.
Birds hopping from branch to branch.
Insects buzzing about.
Monkeys flying through the sky.
But Saw prefers to stay still.
Watching the day unfold at its own pace.
The sun is rising.
And Saw slowly opens his eyes.
It's a new day.
But there's no rush.
He blinks lazily.
Slowly stretches out one of his long arms.
And then curls back up.
Letting out a deep,
Contented sigh.
The morning light filters through the leaves,
Casting soft patterns on the forest floor below.
But up here,
Saw feels perfectly hidden and perfectly at.
He takes his time,
Moving slowly,
Feeling the rough texture of the bark under his fingers as he shifts his position.
Saw's favorite part of the day is this.
The early morning.
When the air is cool and everything feels fresh.
But even though he's awake,
He certainly isn't in any hurry to do anything.
There's no need to rush breakfast or plan out the day.
Saw knows that the best way to live is to take it one moment at a time.
Of course,
The other animals in the forest are busy,
As they always are.
But Saw has long since decided that busy isn't for him.
He prefers to watch the world go by,
To let time pass slowly and enjoy the simple pleasure of just being still.
After all,
Why rush when everything you need is right here in the trees?
And so,
Saw begins his day the way he always does.
Slowly,
Peacefully,
Safely,
With no plans to do anything other than enjoy this quiet,
Easy life that he has made for himself.
Some time passes,
The morning stretches on,
And Saw begins to feel a faint urge to move.
It's not a strong feeling,
Certainly not one that he would call a need,
But more of a gentle nudge in the back of his mind.
A thought that maybe,
Just maybe,
He might consider moving to another branch.
He turns this idea over slowly,
And he looks around at the branches nearby,
All within easy reach,
All offering a new angle of the forest,
A different view of the day.
But Saw doesn't move right away.
Instead,
He stays where he is,
Still and thoughtful,
As if considering whether the effort is really worth it.
The branch he's on is perfectly fine,
After all.
Sturdy,
Comfortable,
And familiar.
He knows the way the bark feels beneath him,
The way the leaves above provide just the right amount of shade.
It's a good spot,
One that he's spent many days enjoying.
So,
Why move?
He shifts slightly,
Just enough to get a better look at the other branches.
There's one in particular that catches his eye.
It's a little thicker,
Perhaps a bit closer to the sun,
Which is now climbing higher in the sky.
Saw imagines what it might be like to lie there,
To feel the warmth on his back,
But imagining is one thing and doing is another.
He stretches one long arm towards the new branch,
His claws brushing against the bark.
Testing it,
Feeling its sturdiness.
But after a moment,
Saw pulls his arm back.
No,
He decides,
Not yet.
Moving is such an effort and there's no need to rush.
The branch he's on is still comfortable and the sun will reach him here in its own time.
So,
He settles back into his original position,
Sighing contentedly.
There's something to be said for staying put,
He thinks,
For enjoying what's already there,
Without feeling the need to chase something else.
And so,
The thought of moving to another branch drifts away,
Just like that.
Saw closes his eyes again,
Feeling the gentle sway of the tree in the breeze and lets the moment pass.
The new branch can wait after all,
There's no hurry in the life of a sloth.
With his decision made,
Saw lets out a long,
Slow breath.
And allows himself to fully relax into the branch beneath him.
His eyelids grow heavy and before long,
They close completely,
Drawing him into the soft embrace of sleep.
And as he dozes off,
The forest continues to hum with quiet life all around him.
Carrying on in its steady rhythm,
Indifferent to the sloth's peaceful slumber.
Above him,
The canopy of leaves filters the sunlight,
Creating a patchwork of light and shadow that dances across Saw's fur.
The trees sway ever so gently in the breeze,
Their movements creating a soft,
Rustling sound.
The leaves flutter,
Their edges catching the light in a way that makes them appear as if they're playing tricks on the eyes of anyone who might glance upward.
Birds flit from branch to branch,
Their wings barely making a sound as they go about their day.
They chirp and call to one another,
Their conversations light and musical,
Adding a soft background melody to the stillness.
Occasionally,
A bird might pause nearby,
Tilting its head curiously at the sight of Saw,
But they never stay long.
The sloth is a familiar figure in this part of the forest,
And his presence doesn't disrupt the natural flow of things.
Far below,
The forest floor is a world of its own.
Little creatures scurry in the undergrowth.
The shadows beneath the trees are cool and inviting,
Offering shelter to many little animals that make their home there.
The ground is covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves and moss,
Like a soft blanket covering the entire rainforest.
The air is warm,
But not stifling,
And carries with it the scents of earth and vegetation.
It's the smell of life itself,
Rich and full,
But subdued.
The occasional breeze brings with it the distant sound of water,
Perhaps a small stream trickling somewhere far off,
Completing the beautiful sounds of nature.
That surround the sleeping sloth.
There is no rush here,
No urgency,
Only the steady,
Reassuring pulse of the forest.
Cradling Saw,
As he enjoys his sleep.
After some time,
Saw's deep sleep begins to lighten.
The rays of the sun have shifted during his nap,
And now it shines upon him and he's not as comfortable as he was.
Slowly,
Ever so slowly,
He begins to rouse.
The idea of moving to that other branch begins to come back into his sleepy mind.
First,
Saw stirs just a little,
The smallest of movements.
A single finger twitches,
Testing the air.
The sensation of the sun shining upon his finger prompts him to continue.
Another finger follows,
Then his entire hand begins to uncurl from its relaxed position against the branch.
His claws,
Sharp yet gentle,
Grip the bark and then release their hold slightly,
Preparing for the slow journey ahead.
With deliberate care,
Saw moves his hand,
Shifting it along the branch in search of a new grip.
The rough texture of the bark slides beneath his palm.
A familiar feeling that grounds him as he wakes His movement is unhurried,
Each motion measured,
As though he's considering every possible angle before committing to the next step.
Once his hand is securely in place,
Saw begins to extend his arm.
It's a slow,
Almost imperceptible motion,
As though the weight of his own limb requires his full concentration.
His muscles,
Relaxed from the long rest,
Gradually re-engage,
Stretching out with the precision of someone who has perfected the art of moving as little as possible.
Saw reaches out with his other arm,
Bringing it forward to join the first and then the process repeats.
Fingers first,
Then the hand,
The claws curling around the bark to find a firm hold.
He pulls himself forward,
Inching closer to the edge of his current branch.
His movements are fluid,
But slow,
Almost like the gentle flow of syrup,
Thick and unhurried,
Each motion a deliberate choice.
Bit by bit,
Saw edges closer to the branch that offers the shade he now craves.
There's no rush,
There never is in the life of a sloth.
His pace is dictated by comfort,
By the need to remain calm and conserve energy.
And so,
With the sun warming his back and the promise of cool shade ahead,
Saw continues his journey,
One careful movement,
And by the time Saw finally reaches the other branch,
The sky above him has transformed into a deepening shade of twilight.
It's night time.
The sun,
Now a distant memory on the horizon,
Has left behind a gentle glow that lingers lightly in the sky.
The jungle around him is transitioning now from the busy activity of the day to the calm,
Peaceful rhythms of evening.
The air cools as the night begins to settle in.
Our nearest star has said goodbye to the day,
And all the other stars have come out to play.
I mentioned that Saw loves the morning.
He also loves the evening.
In fact,
Saw loves any opportunity to sleep.
And now that he is on his new branch,
He feels the satisfaction of a task completed.
A rare feeling for a creature who values rest above all else.
The effort it took to move,
To find the shade he sought,
Has left him pleasantly weary.
Exhausted,
In fact.
His limbs are heavy with the kind of tardiness that makes sleep all the more welcome.
He stretches out along the branch,
His body now perfectly aligned with the cool,
Comforting shade that the evening has brought.
The exhaustion from his very strenuous day by sloth standards settles in.
But it's a peaceful kind of exhaustion.
The kind that comes with knowing there's nothing more that needs to be done.
As the darkness deepens,
And the jungle hums around him,
Saul's eyes grow heavy once more.
The stars above are beautiful tonight.
As the cool night air brushes against his fur,
And the gentle sway of his new branch lulls him into a deep state of relaxation.
Saul the sleepy sloth does love his life here in the rainforest.
He has his home,
The tree.
He has his friends that come and visit now and again.
And he has all that he needs.
And so,
With a final contented sigh,
Saul lets go of the day and drifts back into sleep.
His mind clear,
His body still,
Perfectly at peace in his own little corner.
The End
