You've woken in the middle of the night,
And that's ok,
There's nothing you need to do,
There's nothing urgent the world can wait.
All that matters now is guiding your body and your mind gently back to rest.
And for that,
There's a place,
A quiet place,
Just a short walk away,
A little hut in the clouds.
So let's begin by imagining yourself on a soft path beneath your feet.
You're outdoors,
But it's not cold.
It's not uncomfortable either,
Just still.
A light breeze brushes against your skin,
The ground below is soft,
Something between moss and fog.
But never unsettles you,
There's a quiet pressure,
A grounded feel,
As if the earth beneath you knows where you're going.
Around you the world is quiet,
There are faint sounds in the distance,
Perhaps city sounds,
Maybe just hints of them.
But none of it really reaches you fully,
It's like you're listening through layers of velvet.
Closer by,
You hear countryside sounds,
Like a faint rustle of leaves,
A quiet owl calling,
A breeze moving through tall grass.
It blends together into a peaceful hum,
A blanket of life,
But nothing intrudes,
Nothing asks for your attention.
You walk slowly,
The sky above is pale and soft blue,
Turning to lavender,
There's no bright sun,
Just a gentle light that seems to come from everywhere.
Mist moves around you in gentle swirls,
Like you're walking through a dream that's still being painted.
And ahead,
You see it,
The hut.
It sits slightly above the path,
Built right into the clouds,
Not floating but held there,
Like a secret waiting to be found.
It's small but solid,
Made of pale wood,
Aged with time and weather,
But full of warmth.
A tiny curl of smoke rises from its chimney,
You can barely see it but it's a comforting sight.
You reach for the door and it opens before you need to touch it.
Inside the space welcomes you,
There's no clutter,
No corners filled with things,
Just space to breathe,
To rest.
Wooden walls,
Pale and smooth,
A window cracked open just slightly,
Letting in that clean air.
A faint scent of lavender and fresh rain lingers in the room.
In the centre of the room is a bed,
Not just any bed,
It's a bed made of clouds,
A thick soft nest of clouds gathered into a shape just for you.
The edges puff up gently,
Cradling your body without ever pressing.
The colour is somewhere between white and silver,
With hints of blue when the moonlight touches it.
You approach it.
The surface gives beneath your hands,
Cool at first,
Then warm.
You climb in,
Letting yourself sink just slightly,
Then float.
The bed adjusts to you,
It knows your weight,
It knows how to hold you,
It rises to meet your shape,
Then settles into stillness.
You lie back,
And now the quiet deepens.
The sounds outside the hut become even softer.
The breeze slips past the walls like a whisper,
The faint sounds of the city are just suggestions now.
The countryside settles into a hush.
You are safe here.
Begin at the top of your head,
Your scalp,
Your forehead,
Let any tightness ease away.
Your brow smooths,
The muscles around your eyes melt downwards.
Feel your jaw unlock,
Let your mouth fall gently open if it wants to.
Your tongue rests at the bottom of your mouth,
Heavy and soft.
Moving down to your neck,
Let it be long,
Let it be light.
The back of your head rests deeply into the cloud.
Now your shoulders,
Let them drop,
Feel them let go.
You don't need to hold them up,
The cloud does that for you.
Now your arms,
Your upper arms,
Then your elbows,
Forearms,
Wrists,
Hands and fingers.
Let every joint become still,
Notice the warmth building there.
And allow every part of your arms to relax.
Now to your chest,
You may feel your breath a little slower,
A little fuller.
Let your ribs expand gently on each inhalation,
And soften completely as you exhale.
Now to your belly,
Let it rise without effort,
Let it fall like a wave.
Everything here is soft,
Fluid and unworried.
Your back,
Your spine,
Each vertebrae,
All gently aligned and supported.
Let go now.
Allow your hips to loosen,
Feel them sink,
And as they do,
Sense a wave of relaxation moving down to your thighs,
Your knees,
Your calves and ankles.
Every joint unwinds.
Now down to your feet,
Each toe one by one releases their grip on awareness.
Now,
Your whole body,
Resting in a bed of cloud,
Floating but supported,
Warm but light.
The air in the heart feels soft on your skin,
A temperature that doesn't need adjusting,
A silence that feels like protection.
Outside,
The world keeps moving,
But none of it touches you,
You're beyond the reach of clocks,
Of screens and plans.
There's no past here,
There is also no future,
Only breath,
Only rest,
Only this cloud bed,
This hut in the mist.
Let your breath stay easy now,
Your body knows what to do,
So does your mind,
There's nothing left to think about.
Let sleep come back to you,
Let it wrap around you like the cloud you rest in,
You are undisturbed,
You are beyond interruption and you are already drifting to sleep.
