Encountering The Gingerbread Man: Bedtime Tale

This is a bedtime story that begins with a gentle relaxation process, before progressing to the story, where you find yourself walking through a meadow, heading towards the smoke of a campfire you see in the distance. At the campfire, you encounter a gingerbread man. You sleep in a tent by the campfire as you drift into a series of healing dreams.

The next morning, you wake up and notice the gingerbread man has gone. You continue your journey, walking through the landscape, following a river before finding your way to a cabin, just as the sun is setting once more. At the cabin, you meet a friendly cat. They invite you in and let you stay the night.

The next day, you continue to explore the landscape before heading home to bed and drifting peacefully asleep into Slumberland.

Transcript

So just take a moment to allow your eyes to close and allow yourself to begin to relax and as you begin to comfortably fall asleep I'm gonna tell a bedtime story in the background and I don't know whether you'll drift asleep faster to the sound of my voice or whether it'll be to the spaces between my words and just before we progress to the story allow yourself to get comfortable perhaps shift about a little releasing any tension from the day and notice perhaps a gentle healing light enveloping your head,

Passing healing comfort and well-being down through your head and as I talk you can notice that as it moves down and softens and relaxes deep within you through the muscles,

Through every fibre of your being,

Down your neck,

Around your jaw,

Around your face,

Down to your shoulders,

Down your arms,

All the way to the tips of your fingers,

Down your back and front,

All the way down to your stomach,

Down into your legs,

All the way to the tips of your toes and as that continues I'm just gonna softly count from ten down to one to help you drift deeper inside,

To help calm any thoughts,

To help you focus easier,

More effortlessly on this story ten,

Nine,

Now with each number and with each out-breath you can drift deeper and more relaxed into the experience,

Eight,

Seven,

That's it,

And deeper so easily and so effortlessly,

Four,

The relaxation continuing to spread comfortably down through your body,

Softening and relaxing those muscles and as your body relaxes and prepares for sleep,

So your mind calms and drifts and dreams,

Three,

Two,

That's it,

All the way,

One,

That's it,

As we now begin the story,

And you find yourself walking through the most beautiful meadow,

The sounds of the rustling leaves of distant trees,

The distant hint of songbirds singing,

The way the grass of the meadow flows almost like waves on an ocean,

As that hint of a breeze tickles the tops of the grasses,

Occasionally wafting the sweetest scent of wildflowers to your nostrils,

Four,

Watching as bees and butterflies flit from plant to plant,

And way off in the distance,

Somewhere towards the horizon,

Five,

You can see a thin tendril of smoke meandering up towards the sky,

And you continue to walk through this meadow,

Each footstep the most comfortable dull thud on the soil beneath,

And as each foot slides forward through the grasses,

It gently rustles around the feet,

Before the next dull thud of a footstep,

And you walk slowly,

Gently,

Peacefully,

Almost just meandering through this meadow,

Curious about that smoke in the distance,

Pondering what it could be,

And,

Based on its size and the color of the smoke,

You feel it's likely the smoke of a campfire,

And you continue on through the meadow,

And as you walk through this meadow,

So occasional fluffy clouds drift into view and creep across the sun,

The shadows gliding across the landscape below,

The temperature cooling slightly as shadows pass across your body,

And then warming again once the shadow moves on,

And occasionally a few clouds in the sky will bunch up,

And the sun has to pierce it's way through the cracks and crevices between those clouds,

Casting wide rays of light to dance across the landscape,

And it takes most of the day walking through the meadows,

And walking up and down undulating hills,

To begin to close in on the source of that smoke,

And as you do,

Night begins to wrap the landscape below,

In the most beautiful deep dark blue hue,

With sparkling diamonds dusted through the night sky,

And as the sun has set over the horizon,

And the sky has turned deep shades of blue,

So the distant orange flickering glow of a campfire,

Dances through woodland,

And you head into those trees,

And carefully in the darkness,

Work your way around those trees,

Feeling your way through with your hands,

The fingertips running across the bark of the trees,

Noticing the texture and the temperature of the trunks of those trees,

The soft creaking of the branches,

As they dance gently in the breeze,

And as you near the campfire,

Heading through these trees towards a clearing,

You can hear the distant popping and crackling of that fire,

The way the light dances and moves as the fire flickers,

The orangey glow permeating the landscape,

And before you've even reached the clearing,

You can hear a soft mumbling friendly sounding voice,

And smell the sweetest most pleasant smell,

And you head out of the trees into the clearing,

You see the campfire flickering away,

A small tent near the campfire,

Its sides blowing gently in the breeze,

You see the silhouette of somebody sat near the fire,

The fire the other side of them,

You approach that person from behind,

You make sure to be making enough noise to be heard,

So as not to startle them as you approach,

And as you arrive at that person,

Its you that's perhaps a little startled,

When you realise that they're a gingerbread man,

And that it is this person who smells so sweet,

And you speak as you approach,

Introducing yourself,

They turn to face you with a smile and gesture for you to sit on a log near the fire,

And so you sit down softly on the log,

You share about how you saw the fire,

Just the smoke in the distance and thought,

I'm going to investigate that,

And you set off on a long journey,

Roaming through meadows,

Up and down undulating hills,

Through that patch of woodland,

And out here to the clearing,

And the gingerbread man explains,

They're on a trip,

And they've set out to find themselves,

And the only way to find themselves,

Is to get away from everything that's not you,

So that what's left is just yourself,

And they're on their way to a remote location,

Somewhere they'll be able to be alone,

To relax and meditate,

To truly discover themselves,

As it's getting very late,

They offer you some food and drink,

And you have a backpack with you,

And a tent,

And they notice this and offer for you to set up the tent near their fire,

Perhaps camp with them the night,

And so you set up your tent,

And then for hours into the night,

You sit with the gingerbread man,

Sharing tales and wisdom,

Sharing your life lessons you've both learned,

And the fire very slowly and gently burns down to embers,

Until it's just the faintest glow on the ground,

Emanating a gentle warmth,

And as the stars overhead continue to twinkle and dance their way through the night,

The occasional shooting star streaks across the sky,

You head to bed in the tent,

You wrap up so cozy and comfortable,

Feeling so relaxed,

Breathing in the fresh air of nature around you,

Almost being lulled asleep to the gentle pulsing of the sides of the tent,

As the wind pushes and pulls on the tent as it blows past,

And as you rest there,

So you drift,

Peacefully and comfortably,

Entirely effortlessly asleep,

And you drift into the most pleasant dreams,

You imagine yourself,

Sorting some files,

Not taking long about it,

Just sorting some files,

Making sure that everything's in its right place,

And as you do that,

Feeling a sense of achievement,

That accomplishment you get,

From fulfilling a task,

You dream of walking along a seashore,

Seeing a curious looking stone,

Picking that stone up,

And as you walk,

You absent-mindedly,

Playing with the stone in your hand,

Running your fingertips over the smoothness of the stone,

Moving your hand in a way that lets you judge the weight of the stone,

Being able to smell what that stone smells like,

And then after some time of walking along the seashore,

The slight sloppy sound of each footstep as you walk in that transition between the ocean and the land,

The sound of the sea as it rolls up onto the shore and pulls back again,

The sounds of seabirds,

You feel a sense of wanting to stop,

Resting by the seashore,

Gazing out across the sea,

That stone somehow feeling heavier and heavier,

And feeling compelled to let it go,

Throwing it as far as you can,

Watching it as it arcs through the sky,

Spinning and rotating as it goes,

Before plopping down between two waves,

Sinking to the bottom,

And a part of you understands that the sea is technically now ever so slightly deeper,

In a way that's completely unnoticeable,

You're aware that something under the sea has shifted,

There's a stone there that wasn't there before,

Things in the sea have changed,

And only you know this,

Anyone else who visits this space,

Even finding the stone,

Won't realize things were different once,

And now they've changed,

And feeling lighter,

You continue walking along the seashore,

Just as you continue drifting and floating deeper and deeper into a dream,

And while you continue,

In this dream the landscape shifts,

And your mind doesn't pay any real attention to that shift,

It feels so natural,

And something you wouldn't even question,

As the sea's waves turn to grass in a meadow blowing,

And moving in the breeze,

As the sand beneath your feet turns into the more solid ground of a meadow,

And you see a single tree in this meadow,

And you can hear crying,

And you head over to that tree,

And the crying gets louder and louder,

And as you arrive at the tree,

So you ask,

What's wrong?

And the tree explains that they're a weeping willow tree,

And the leaves are hanging low,

The branches are curved over at the ends,

They're almost shrouded within themselves,

Gently weeping as they talk,

They explain that they would describe themselves as an empath,

They're highly sensitive to picking up on emotion of other things and other beings,

And highly sensitive to finding the emotion within situations,

And they say it doesn't take much to look around and see the beauty of nature,

At night time they see the beauty of the heavens,

In the morning they see the beauty of a sunrise,

In the evening they see the beauty of a sunset,

They see the beauty of lovers picnicking beneath their branches,

Of families playing in the meadow with their children,

And so they find themselves always weeping,

Not tears of sadness necessarily,

But tears of connection to all things,

They explain they don't need any help,

It's just who they are,

How they are,

And sometimes it can just be overwhelming,

And so it's a learning they have to make for their whole life,

To learn to manage their emotions,

Their incredible sensitivity,

They don't want to get rid of that sensitivity,

Just to not be overwhelmed by it,

And the dreaming continues on,

As you transition from dream to dream through the night,

Saying goodbye to the tree,

Continuing on through the meadow,

Which gradually turns into,

Walking through an old fashioned town,

Rows of trees turning into rows of houses,

The open space before you,

Turning in to a street through this town,

And you see a vendor in the distance,

And some curious,

Almost magical looking smoke,

Rising gently from a pot on their table,

And that magic looking smoke intrigues you,

As you get closer and closer,

So you notice the smoke seems to be humming with musical notes,

And the vendor,

A very curious looking fellow,

Offers you a free drink,

From the pot that's smoking,

And with a ladle,

They lift up some of that liquid,

Pour it into a cup,

And hand you that cup,

Of purple glowing liquid,

Gently bubbling,

They say it's not bubbling because it's hot,

It's just comfortably warm,

It's bubbling,

Because it's got magic,

That's so densely packed in there,

It's desperate to get out,

And you drink that drink and feel the warmth of the drink,

Softly weaving its way down through your body,

Almost as if it's touching your soul,

Bringing such deep peace and comfort,

And a feeling of being connected to this world in a whole new way,

Like something that needs healing within you,

Is being healed as you dream,

And you start to have a vision while that healing liquid infuses through every part of your being,

And you find yourself having a vision of standing in a stone ring,

On a cold day,

In a frost covered landscape,

Where the grass almost cracks and crumples underfoot,

And you find this is a winter solstice,

And you watch as the sun lines up,

The light of the sun shines through a crack,

Hits a mirror and gets split and bounces across the other stones,

It bounces off mirrors placed on those other stones,

Finding its way to a narrow point,

On what looks like a bowl of water,

Resting on a plinth,

And that bowl of water gradually begins to turn yellow,

Yellow like the sun,

An almost bright white yellow,

And you watch,

As people queue up to walk to that bowl,

They say a few words,

They drink from the bowl and walk on,

And as they walk on so you notice,

A gentle yellow glow spreading through each of those people,

As if infused with the life giving energy of that sun,

Through the life giving properties of the water,

And you drift even deeper,

And deeper asleep,

Eventually passing beyond the dreams,

Into a heavy physical relaxation,

Where your mind slows,

And deeper healing occurs,

And the next morning,

You wake up in the tent,

You open the tent,

And you find that the gingerbread man has gone,

The fire has been extinguished,

The space for the fire has been covered over,

And there's almost no trace they were ever there,

You have yourself something to eat,

Before packing your tent away and continuing your journey,

Just exploring the landscape,

Enjoying your time in nature,

And as you explore and walk,

A part of you keeps thinking of that gingerbread man and their journey,

Wondering whether they'll find themselves,

And you walk out of the clearing,

You hear the distant sound of a river,

And head in the direction of that sound,

Arriving at the river,

And following along the edge of the river for a while,

The air smelling almost purified by the water,

As it bubbles and bounces down the river,

Ducks meandering in the currents,

Swans swimming,

Almost as if there is no current,

And then one of the swans has made the decision to take off,

And you watch,

As it flaps and pushes its legs through the water,

Before reaching a point where you can hear,

Each breath the swan makes while its wings flap,

The splashing of its feet,

As it's now running across the surface of the water,

The white horses dancing behind the swan,

As it launches in the air,

Turns towards the nearby woodland,

And disappears beyond the trees,

And you follow this river,

As it weaves among low hills,

Patches of trees,

Spending another day of walking,

Keeping in mind your route home,

And as the sun begins to set again,

In the darkness that's gradually encroaching,

You notice some lights in the distance,

Like the gentle light at the windows of a cabin,

And it takes you many hours to slowly close in on that cabin,

You decide to knock on the cabin's door,

To see who lives here,

Perhaps they'll ask if you want to stay for the night,

But if not,

You walk on a little further,

And set up camp a little way from the river's shore,

But when you knock on the door,

An anthropomorphic cat,

With large eyes,

And soft fur,

About a quarter of your height,

Answers the door to you,

And gently asks who you are and where you've come from,

And you politely answer them and explain your experiences,

You explain you're on a journey,

You're just finding places to stay where you can,

You're just out walking for a few days,

Exploring some landscape you've never seen before,

Before heading home,

You're new to this area,

And you feel when you're new to an area,

The best way to learn about the area,

Is to explore it and talk to those who live here,

And the cat invites you in,

Makes you a drink and some food,

Gestures for you to sit by the fire,

And you sit down in the most comfortable of armchairs,

So comfortable in fact,

That just sitting in it,

You notice you're breathing calming,

You notice yourself starting to fall asleep,

And they come over and join you and hand you some food and drink,

They've made you some curious cakes,

They describe as rock cakes,

Only these cakes are so soft,

So tasty,

Almost melting in your mouth,

And so moorish,

It doesn't take you much to finish them without even realizing,

And the cat explains a bit about this area,

The history of this land,

And then as it gets later and later,

They ask if you'd like to spend the night,

They show you to a room,

And you settle down in the most comfortable bed,

And you drift and float peacefully asleep,

And your dreams mirror the previous night's dreams,

Only with subtle changes here and there,

You feel a teaching you something new and slightly different,

Perhaps building on what you'd learned the previous night,

And the next morning,

Unlike the gingerbread man who'd left,

The cat is still in their home,

Only they've made you breakfast,

And you're awoken by the scent of the most beautiful breakfast,

Almost following your nose to the kitchen,

And you enjoy that food,

Before saying your goodbyes,

Setting off to continue your journey,

And you continue exploring this landscape through the day,

Discovering what's out here,

And after another day of exploring,

You pitch up the tent,

And relax peacefully asleep for the night,

Before starting your journey home,

Following the right direction but a slightly different route,

To maximize the chances of new encounters and discoveries,

And to help you to learn more and see more of this landscape,

And it takes a few days of exploring the landscape to find your way home,

And once home,

You unpack all of your gear,

You pack everything away where it belongs,

You make everything nice and tidy,

And then you sit down and rest,

Before finding your mind drift and wander to your experiences,

And as night sets in,

You rest in bed and read for a while,

But it doesn't take long for you to discover you want to really just go to sleep,

And so you settle back in bed,

And over the last few days you've slept in incredibly comfortable places,

You've even thought of them as incredible comfortable places,

And yet nothing beats home,

Nothing beats your own bed,

And so you rest back in your own bed,

And you drift and float,

So peacefully,

So relaxed asleep,

Into slumberland,

Reviews

Thank you💜🙏💜😊😴🕊️🕊️🕊️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️