Welcome.
Thank you for being here tonight.
And forgiving yourself this time.
To rest.
Relax,
And to let the day drift quietly behind you.
Tonight,
There is nothing you need to do.
But subtle into your bed.
And listen while this story carries you gently towards sleep.
So settle in now.
Finding whatever position feels most comfortable for you.
Letting your body rest fully into the surface beneath you.
Feeling held.
Feeling supported.
Feeling the gentle weight.
Of your body.
Sinking softly.
Into stillness.
And as you settle,
You might take a slow breath in.
Filling your lungs gently.
And letting it go with a long,
Easy sigh.
Another breath in.
And as you release it.
Letting your shoulders soften.
Letting your jaw relax.
Letting the energy of the day.
Dissolve from your body.
And mind.
Tonight from the comfort and warmth of your bed.
We will explore a place far,
Far away.
Somewhere vast and quiet and deeply calm.
Tonight we'll visit the mysterious depths.
Of the sea.
And as we go.
I'll share a few interesting things.
About the ocean.
Quiet wonders from the deep.
The kind of facts that soften the mind.
And remind us how strange and beautiful.
Our world really is.
You don't need to go anywhere at all.
You can simply rest.
Exactly where you are.
Warm and cozy.
And safe.
While your imagination drifts down through the water.
The way a bedtime story has always known how.
To carry us gently toward sleep.
Picture if you like.
A calm,
Warm sea.
At the end of the day.
Its surface,
Smooth and unhurried.
Rocking softly.
On its gentle swell.
Above it,
The last soft light of evening.
Below it,
The wide and patient waters.
Resting quietly.
As they always have.
The ocean is the largest thing.
In our world.
Covering more than two-thirds of the planet.
And holding nearly all of the Earth's water.
About 97 drops of every hundred.
Almost all the water there is.
Resting in one large body.
And it is not only white.
It is deep.
If you could count all the living space on Earth.
Every forest.
Every meadow.
Every open sky.
More than 99 parts in 100 would be here in the sea.
Nearly all the room there is for life on Earth.
Lies in its oceans.
And yet we have seen so little of it.
Even now,
Less than a third of the ocean floor.
Has ever been carefully mapped.
We have clearer maps of the moon.
And of the surface of Mars,
Then of our own deep sea.
So much of it is still a gentle mystery,
Quiet and waiting,
Far from the worries of our world.
From the activity of our days.
A place as gentle and strange as a dream.
And so we begin to sink.
Down through the warm surface water.
Where the sunlight still reaches.
Glowing soft and golden green.
This is the sunlit layer.
The top of the ocean,
Reaching down about 600 feet before the brightness fades.
Hear tiny ribbons of light drift past,
Shimmering,
Swaying,
Moving in slow and easy currents and though it looks like empty water.
It is teeming with life.
A single drop of this sea can hold thousands of tiny living things.
Far too small to see with the naked eye.
Drifting softly.
Carried along.
By the same calm waters.
These tiny drifting plants have a quiet gift.
As they float in the sunlight.
They breathe out oxygen into the world.
So much of it,
In fact.
That about half of every breath you take begin here.
In the sea.
Every second breath.
A gift from the ocean.
So as you breathe slowly now,
The sea is breathing with you.
The way it always has been.
And just as these tiny lives rest in the water.
You rest in your bed.
Held gently.
Breathing slowly.
Both part of the same soft evening.
And with each breath you take.
We sink a little deeper.
The light growing softer.
The water growing cooler and calmer.
The world above more quiet and distant.
Drifting downward past 600 feet,
Then deeper still.
A golden light begins to fade.
Softening around us into a deep and tranquil blue.
This is the twilight of the sea.
Where sailors once called the deep dusk,
Where the last of the sunlight dissolves into shadow.
And the water turns the color of an evening sky.
Reaching down more than half a mile.
Growing calmer and darker.
With each foot.
It is quiet there,
Calmer than almost anywhere in the world.
The surface and its waves are far above.
And down in the blue,
The water barely moves.
Resting in its cool,
Quiet dust.
And down here something lovely begins to happen.
In this gentle darkness,
The creatures of the sea began to glow.
For down in the deep,
Most loving things make their own soft love.
Scientists who have studied these waters.
Found that about 3 of every 4 creatures here can generate their own light.
It is one of the most common languages on Earth.
This soft glow.
Spoken by more creatures than almost any other.
And hidden from us all this time.
In the soft dark of the deep.
Tiny lanterns drift through the blue.
Soft blue-green sparks,
Glowing and fading,
Like stars rearranging themselves in slow motion.
A small jellyfish pulses by.
Trailing ribbons of pale light.
Opening,
And closing,
Opening and closing.
In a slow and peaceful rhythm.
Like a heartbeat.
Like a breath.
You might let your own breath match that gentle rhythm now.
There in the comfort of your bed.
Slowly opening slowly closing.
Breathing in.
And breathing out.
Each breath softer than the last.
There is so much peace in this blue quiet.
So much room to rest and simply be.
And as the soft lights drift and glow.
We sink a little deeper still.
Carried down by the calm.
And patient water.
Deeper now into the wide and open waters.
Were the great gentle creatures of the sea.
Move slowly through them.
Somewhere in that deep blue.
A whale is singing.
A low,
Warm hum.
Moving through the water.
Soft.
And deep.
And soothing.
A whale's song is one of the farthest traveling sounds in all of the natural world.
It can cross an entire ocean.
Hundreds upon hundreds of miles of quiet water.
One whale calling gently to another in the dark.
A slow conversation that can last for hours.
And other voices are powerful enough to cross a whole sea.
Down in the deep,
They sound soft and gentle.
A great blue whale moves slowly through the water,
Vast and calm,
Unhurried.
Is the largest creature that has ever lived upon our earth.
Larger than any dinosaur that ever walked.
Its heart alone weighs as much as a grand piano.
Nearly the size of a small car.
Beating slowly.
.
.
And steadily.
Deep within its enormous body.
That heartbeat is so strong it could be heard from two miles away through the quiet water.
And when the whale dives down into the deep.
Its great heart slows and slows.
Until it beats only a few times each minute.
Sometimes as few as two.
Just two slow beats in a whole long minute of stillness.
Imagine that gentle rhythm now.
So slow,
So calm.
Giant heart at perfect rest.
Far down in the peaceful darkness.
You might let your own heart soften toward that calm.
Your breath slowly your body growing heavier.
And warmer with each passing moment.
The whale glides on through the water.
As though it weighs nothing at all.
Its slow heartbeat hums through the sea.
Its gentle song drifts for miles through the dark.
A quiet lullaby moving through the water.
The way this story is moving through your mind,
Carrying you deeper into calm.
Deeper into rest.
Deeper towards sleep.
And further down.
Trusting.
Into the deep.
And tranquil dark.
Here,
The water is wonderfully still.
And yet,
It is a soft.
And restful darkness.
The way a darkened room feels at the very end of the day.
When you are finally.
.
.
Gratefully ready.
For sleep.
The deep ocean is the calmest place on our planet.
Far below the reach of storms and waves.
The water rests in a deep and ancient peace.
In fact,
The water down in the deep.
Has rested far from the sunlight.
For hundreds,
Even thousands of years.
The water here tonight.
Last touched the surface of the world centuries ago.
Long before you were born.
And has moved slowly through the dark ever since.
Patient and unhurried,
Drifting on a rhythm of centuries.
This is a place of deep and ancient time.
The creatures there can live for centuries too,
In the cold,
Calm waters.
They are corals that have grown slowly for more than 4,
000 years,
Older than the oldest stories we know.
Their creatures alive.
In the deep tonight.
Born hundreds of years ago.
In a world without telescopes.
Without electricity.
Drifting peacefully through the dark.
All this long while.
And the deep holds quiet gifts as well.
Hidden in those calm,
Dark waters.
Are healing things we are only beginning to see.
To discover.
Remedies drawn from coral.
And sponge.
From the small creatures of the deep.
That have brought comfort and healing to people all over the world.
And so much more still waits there,
Resting in the dark.
Quiet gifts.
The sea is keeping safe.
Until the day.
We find them.
There is generosity in the water.
Quiet promise to soothe,
To mend,
To make whole.
You can let it soothe you now.
From all these miles away.
The way a story soothes,
A lullaby soothes.
Reaching you softly in your bed.
Time moves so gently there,
Slowly,
Patiently,
Without any hurry at all.
And tonight,
You are part of that ancient comb.
Your breath,
Slow and soft.
Your mind,
Quiet as the deepest water.
So far away.
So peaceful.
Here and there.
The gentle lights drift by.
A soft glow passing slowly in the distance.
A trail of pale sparks.
A quiet shimmer in the dark.
Like the embers of a fire burning low.
Like the last few stars.
Before sleep.
And now,
At last.
.
.
Our stories settle softly on the ocean floor.
It has come a long,
Long way down.
Deeper than mountains are tall.
In the deepest parts of the sea.
You could rest the tallest mountain on earth.
Beneath the surface.
And still have a mile of water.
Above the pain.
That is how deep.
That gentle stillness goes.
And here we finally settle.
Onto a wide and gentle plane.
Of soft,
Pale sand.
Stretching quietly in every direction.
Smooth and undisturbed.
Resting in perfect peace.
The way snow settles onto a field.
Slowly.
Softly.
Without a sound.
The sand has rested here for thousands of years.
Holding the weight of the sea with steadiness,
Ease,
And calm.
As far from noise and hurry as any place can be.
The deepest quiet on Earth.
Resting.
At the bottom of the world.
While you rest.
At the surface of yours.
Warm in your bed.
Wrapped in your own soft blanket.
Held by your own stillness.
The soft lights drift far above that quiet floor,
Glowing faintly in the dark.
Like distant stars over a sleeping field.
And the gentle whale song still hum softly through the water.
A quiet lullaby from the heart of the sea.
There's nothing for you to do now.
At rest.
Held softly in your bed.
The quiet of your room surrounding you on every side.
Warm and safe and still.
With each slow breath,
You sink a little deeper into peace.
Each exhale carrying you further into rest.
Further into the soft.
And gentle dark.
Further into sleep.
The day is far behind you now.
As far away as the bottom of the sea.
In another world entirely.
And here in your bed.
There is only calm.
The slow and peaceful rhythm of your breath.
And the gentle stillness of the night.
You might let the ocean's soft lights grow dimmer now.
You might let the whale song play.
Fade softly into the distance.
You might let the whole world grow quiet around you.
As you drift down and down into deep and peaceful sleep.
Resting,
Softening.
I didn't go.
Held by the deepest comb in all the world.
You are safe.
You were held.
And all is well.
