It's 3am.
And you're wide awake again.
So you're lying very still.
Eyes closed.
Doing everything you're supposed to.
Breathing slowly,
Trying to get back to sleep.
And that trying is the hardest part of all this.
So tonight,
We're not going to try.
We're going to float instead.
On Chibs at Karakay.
And welcome to this floating sleep meditation.
For letting go.
And resting.
Before we begin.
Please make sure you're somewhere safe.
Where you can fully relax.
Not driving.
Not operating machinery.
Just free to let your whole system rest.
First,
We'll take the weight out of your body.
And allow sleep to come back on its own.
By the end of this meditation.
If you haven't already drifted off.
You'll be more than ready to fall into a deep sleep.
Restorative sleep.
Tonight.
I'll be speaking calmly.
And directly.
To the deeper parts of your mind.
The part that's been running your breathing and your heartbeat all night.
Without once asking you for help.
And as I do.
Your body will begin handing its weight over to the bed.
A little at a time.
Until holding yourself up stops being your job.
And once nothing's being held.
That's when the floating starts.
And that floating is its own kind of bliss.
Weightless.
Warm.
And asking nothing of you.
There's nothing here to get right.
You don't have to concentrate.
Or follow every word.
Or stay with me until the end.
If you disappear somewhere in the middle.
That's exactly what's meant to happen.
So just make yourself comfortable.
In whatever position your body's asking for.
Now allowing your attention to settle into the places where your body meets the bed.
The back of your head.
Resting into the pillow.
Your shoulders.
Your hips.
The backs of your legs.
And underneath all of it.
The mattress.
Already carrying your weight.
Already doing this.
It's been doing it for hours.
You've never once had to hold yourself up here.
And now noticing the breath.
However it's arriving right now.
Fast or slow.
Shallow or deep.
It's perfectly fine,
Exactly as it is.
Just watching the breath the way you might watch a tide.
Coming in.
And going out.
Rising.
And falling.
Nothing to control.
Nothing to correct.
And as you watch.
You may notice it starting to slow,
All on its own.
The in-breath easing.
And the out-breath easing with it.
The tide never hurries.
And tonight,
Neither do you.
And before we go any further.
Just letting yourself notice how quiet it is right now.
Everyone who needs you is asleep.
Nothing is being asked of you now,
Not for hours.
Whatever's waiting for you.
It's still waiting in the morning.
None of it needs you.
In the middle of the night.
Can allow the mattress to take a little more of your weight now.
So the muscles don't have to work so hard.
And you may notice.
There's a way of handing over just 5% more.
And then another 5%.
Whenever you like.
Not all at once.
Just a gradual giving in.
A gradual letting go.
And each time you hand a little more over.
There's a little less for you to hold.
Nothing to hold now.
And here's the strange thing about weight.
The more of it you hand over.
The less of it you feel.
The muscles stop bracing.
The joints stop holding their shape.
And the body starts losing track of where it ends.
And where the bed begins.
Heavy.
And weightless.
At the same time.
That's the floating.
So let's start where wakefulness actually lives.
Bringing your attention up to your eyes.
At this hour,
The eyes are usually the last thing to give in.
Still scanning.
Still checking the dark.
Still half expecting something to need looking at.
Allowing the small muscles around the eyes to soften now.
The outer corners releasing.
The eyelids growing heavier.
Resting down.
No longer holding themselves closed.
Simply resting closed.
And allowing that softness to spread up into the brow.
The forehead smoothing.
The space between your eyebrows widening.
And down into the jaw now.
Allowing the teeth to part very slightly.
So the jaw can hang.
Loose.
And heavy.
The tongue softening away from the roof of the mouth.
The whole lower face giving up its shape.
And now down into the chest.
If you woke with that fizzing.
Humming.
Switched on feeling.
The chest is usually where it sits.
You don't have to get rid of it.
You can allow it to be there.
While everything around it softens.
The ribs loosening.
The muscles between the ribs,
Releasing.
The chest becoming warm.
And heavy.
And quiet.
And your hands.
Wherever they are resting.
Allowing the fingers to uncurl.
The palms opening a little.
Nothing to reach for.
Nothing to pick up.
Nothing to check.
And the legs now.
Allowing the thighs to become heavy.
The knees to soften.
The carbs to release down into the mattress.
Right through the ankles now.
And into the feet.
And if there's any restlessness left in them.
Any small urge to shift.
Or move.
Or push the covers away.
Allowing that urge to drain out through the soles of your feet.
And now the whole body.
Softening together.
Heavy where it meets the bed.
Weightless.
Everywhere else.
And now I want to say something to the part of you that's been working so hard tonight.
Bodies wake in the night.
They always have.
The only thing that turns it into a long night is the trying.
So you can stop working at this now.
You don't have to earn your way back to sleep.
You don't have to get anywhere.
You don't have to hold anything.
And here's the part that matters most.
What you're in right now.
The softening.
This weightless,
Drifting quiet.
This is ready rest.
Your body is already recovering,
Even if you're awake.
You don't have to be asleep for this to count.
So sleep can come whenever it's ready.
Will be floating either way.
And you can allow yourself to be carried now.
Because that's what this is starting to feel like.
As if the bed has quietly turned into slow water.
Wow.
And steady.
And just deep enough to hold you.
Held right at the surface.
Carry gently along.
Nothing underneath you but support.
And on either side.
The banks moving slowly past.
Everything the day left behind is over there.
The conversation you keep replaying.
The thing you meant to send.
The list that starts assembling itself the moment your eyes open in the dark.
You can watch it all go by.
You don't have to reach for any of it.
Because it's on the bank.
And you're on the water.
And the water keeps moving.
Drifting.
Softening.
Floating further out with every breath.
And when a thought comes.
And one will.
It just joins the bank.
And slides quietly past.
Nothing to hold.
And the current is doing the work now.
Warm.
Unhurried.
Carrying you further from the shore than you've been all night.
Deeper into that soft,
Floating bliss.
Where the body has no edges.
And nothing needs holding at all.
And while you float here.
Your body is quietly getting on with the work it's been waiting all day to do.
The nervous system stepping down out of that middle of the night readiness.
And stepping into repair.
The heart rate settling.
The breath finding its own slow rhythm.
Muscles that have been braced since morning.
Finally letting go of what they've been carrying.
This is what deep rest is.
And it asks nothing of you.
Just floating.
In a soft,
Easy bliss.
Where the only thing happening is your body putting itself back together.
Nothing to hold.
And with every minute you stay here.
Floating.
Drifting.
Letting go a little further.
Your body is repaying itself for the day.
So there's nothing left to sort out tonight.
You've already arrived somewhere good.
And from here.
If you ever need to wake up for any reason at all.
You will.
Easily.
Naturally.
Just as you always do.
But if there's nothing that needs you.
No reason to wait.
You can allow yourself to sink even more fully.
Into this deep.
Restorative sleep.
And my voice can start blaring at the edges now.
Still here.
Just less distinct.
The words losing their outline.
Running softly into one another.
Turning into something.
You no longer have to follow.
You can let my words dissolve into the drift.
With everything else.
Just a warmth in the room now.
Carried along beside you.
And if you're already going.
Then go.
There's nothing here.
That needs you awake.
And now.
These simple phrases can drift softly in the background.
You don't have to repeat them.
You don't have to remember them.
They can simply be there.
Quietly.
Steadily.
While you sleep.
I don't have to try to sleep.
Is nothing wrong with being awake right now.
There's nothing to hold.
I can let go a little at a time.
My body knows how to rest without my help.
I am floating and I am held.
There's a quiet bliss in having nothing to hold.
This counts as rest,
Even with my eyes open.
I don't have to earn my way back to sleep.
Heavy in the bed and weightless everywhere else.
Nothing in the house needs me tonight.
I can drift without going anywhere.
I'm drifting into bliss,
One breath at a time.
This quiet is doing me good.
I am allowed to rest,
Just for now.
There's nothing to work out tonight.
Sleep comes to me when I stop working at it.
I'll be more rested in the morning than I think.
Morning will come.
And I'll be ready for it.
Tonight,
I let go.
I don't have to try to sleep.
There's nothing wrong with being awake right now.
There's nothing to hold.
I can let go a little at a time.
My body knows how to rest without my help.
I am floating and I am held.
There's a quiet bliss in having nothing to hold.
This counts as rest,
Even with my eyes open.
I don't have to earn my way back to sleep.
Heavy in the bed and weightless everywhere else.
Nothing in the house needs me tonight.
I can drift without going anywhere.
I'm drifting into bliss,
One breath at a time.
This quiet is doing me good.
I am allowed to rest,
Just for now.
There's nothing to work out tonight.
Sleep comes to me when I stop working at it.
I'll be more rested in the morning than I think.
Morning will come.
And I'll be ready for it.
Tonight,
I let go.
Coming back to the breath now.
The slow rise.
And the slow fall.
Nothing to control.
Nothing to correct.
Just the tide of it.
Coming in and going out.
The body.
Growing heavier.
Handing over the last of its weight.
Until there's nothing left to hold up.
The jaw letting go of its shape.
The mouth softening.
The eyes heavy and still behind closed lids.
Warmth moving through the chest.
Easing out along the arms.
Into the hands.
Into the fingers.
And the edges of you beginning to blur.
Where the body ends.
And the bed begins.
No longer clear.
Floating now.
Weightless.
Carry gently along.
Drifting into that quiet bliss.
The day still going past on the bank.
Smaller.
Quieter.
Further away with every breath.
Nothing to reach for.
Nothing to work out.
Nothing to hold.
Nothing more to do.
Nowhere else to be.
Just the quiet.
And the gentle sounds around you.
Folding softly through the dark.
Wrapping the whole room in something warm.
Awareness loosening its grip.
Coming and going.
Letting the last of the night slip by unwatched.
Softening into the bed.
Settling.
Into the dark.
Easing gently,
Towards sleep.
The hours ahead of you.
Long.
Warm.
And completely unhurried.
Drifting further out.
SLAVA deeper.
Sleep arriving now.
In its own time.
Without ever being asked.
Sinking gently.
Into a deep sleep.
Restorative sleep.
And sleep now.
