This is a sleep meditation.
A quiet bedtime story for your mind and nervous system.
There is nothing you need to do.
Nothing to figure out.
Nothing to remember.
You don't need to stay awake for every word.
And if your mind drifts,
That's perfect.
If sleep arrives before the story ends,
That's even better.
Let this be something you listen through as your body unwinds and your thoughts loosen their grip.
The story you're about to hear is an old teaching.
It's something to be shared,
Not analysed.
It's something to be felt.
Its purpose is not understanding,
But it's releasing.
So allow the day to just fall away.
And let tomorrow wait.
Make yourself as comfortable as possible now.
Dim or turn off the lights.
Settle into your bed.
Now,
Take one slow deep breath in through your nose.
And then exhale out of your mouth a long gentle breath.
And when you're ready,
Just let this story carry you.
And now that you're in a comfortable position,
Allow your body to soften.
Let your breath slow in through the nose and gently out through the mouth.
And with each exhale,
Feel yourself arriving more fully into this moment.
Now,
Imagine a long quiet road.
Dust beneath bare feet.
Morning air cool against the skin.
There are two monks walking this path together.
One is older,
Weathered by years of practice.
One is younger,
Earnest,
Disciplined,
But still learning the way.
Together they walk in silence.
Bound by vows of simplicity and restraint.
Each step is deliberate.
Each breath a prayer.
As they continue on their journey,
The weather changes.
The storm is brewing and the sound of water grows louder.
They arrive at a river.
It is wide.
It is fast moving.
And it is untamed.
The current surges and swirls.
It's powerful and unforgiving.
On the same side of the river bank as the two monks stands a young,
Beautiful woman.
She needs to cross the river too.
But she hesitates.
Fear flickers across her face as she watches the fast moving water rush past.
She turns toward the two monks and softly she speaks.
Please help me.
I cannot cross alone.
The monks pause.
Their sacred vows echo in their minds.
Do not touch a woman.
Do not desire.
The younger monk lowers his gaze.
He's uncertain.
His thoughts tighten and his body stills.
The older monk breathes.
And without debate,
Without resistance,
He steps forward.
And with calm strength he sweeps the woman into his arms.
And purposefully carries her across the river.
Feel the water around his legs.
And yet his heart remains steady.
Once across the river on the far shore he gently sets her down.
She bows in gratitude and walks away.
Her footsteps fading as she disappears through the trees.
The elder monk turns and continues down the path.
The younger monk follows.
But there is a tightening in his chest.
His thoughts begin looping and silent judgement grows and it becomes heavier with every step.
Minutes pass.
And still the young monk carries the thoughts,
The ruminations and the looping.
As the two monks near the village almost home finally the young monk speaks up.
Master,
We are forbidden to touch a woman.
But you broke your vows.
You picked her up.
You touched her.
How could you carry her?
The elder monk stops.
Turns towards the younger monk and in a voice calm,
Spacious and kind.
But as soon as I had crossed the river I put her down at the water's edge.
And the older monk continues.
I put her down.
So why are you still carrying her?
Let that question echo inside of you.
What have you already put down but are still carrying in your mind?
A word?
A moment?
A judgement?
Notice it now.
Without force and without shame.
And with your next breath out imagine you too setting it down.
Right here.
Right now.
What is the thing that you've been carrying that you do not need to carry any further?
The story is complete now.
There is nothing more to listen for.
Nothing more to hold.
If sleep has already come let these words fade into the background like ripples settling on still water.
And yet if you are still awake let your breath remain slow and easy.
Allow your body to grow heavier with every exhale.
Anything you were carrying today any thought,
Any worry any unfinished moment can be set down here.
You are safe to rest.
Safe to let go.
You are safe to sleep.
The river has been crossed.
And the path continues on its own.
So may you sleep gently.
May your sleep be deep.
And may you wake lighter than you arrived.
