Good evening.
I'm Glenda Cedarleaf,
And welcome to this sleep meditation.
We'll be taking a peaceful journey into the beauty of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.
Nestled along the border of Minnesota and Ontario.
Here among quiet forests.
And glacial lakes.
You can let your imagination carry you into a gentle wilderness adventure.
As you slowly drift into a deep and restful sleep.
So now allow yourself to become comfortable in the ways that you know best.
Gently close your eyes.
Feel your body as it settles into the support of your bed,
Bandesya.
Let your neck and shoulders relax.
Wiggle your fingers and toes.
And then allow your hands and feet to rest.
Taking a slow,
Easy breath.
Exhale.
Breathing out tension.
Your jaw,
Relax.
Your arms loosen.
Your legs growing now pleasantly heavy.
And all the while as you feel the softness of your sheets and blankets and pillow.
Let the bed beneath hold you completely.
As though the Earth itself is supporting you.
It's early morning and you are riding in your car or truck.
Feeling at peace,
Knowing that everything is already prepared for the days ahead.
The canoe is secured.
The gear is loaded.
And there's nothing left to do now but travel north.
And with every mile,
The pace of ordinary life slips farther behind you.
The farther you travel,
The quieter everything becomes.
A gentle sense of anticipation begins to grow within you.
As the roads gradually grow quieter.
Towns become smaller and farther apart.
Traffic fades away.
Replaced by winding two-lane highways.
That curves through tall forests.
And alongside sparkling lakes.
You lower the window and breathe in the fresh country air.
Eventually,
Lake Superior appears beside you.
Vast and shimmering,
Stretching as far as the eye can see.
The highway rises and falls along the shoreline.
Passing through small,
Quiet towns.
As you journey through the quaint towns of Lützen,
Toftee,
And Schroeder.
You'll soon spot it.
The welcoming sign for Grand Marais.
The final stop before venturing onto the Gunflint Trail.
The Gunflint Trail,
Which originally served as an indigenous footpath.
Later transformed into a mining wagon road,
Leads you through unspoiled wilderness.
This is your gateway into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.
This road feels less like a highway and more like an invitation.
Tall pines stand on either side,
Rising into the blue sky.
Sunlight filters through the branches,
Moving in soft patterns across the pavement.
Now and then the forest opens just enough to reveal the shining lake.
Before the trees close gently around you again.
There is no hurry here,
No rush to arrive.
The drive itself is part of the journey.
You find yourself scanning the roadside for a glimpse of a moose.
Or perhaps a deer passing between the trees.
The air is cool and clean.
The sky is open and calm.
And with every mile on this trail,
Your breathing becomes slower and easier.
Your thoughts begin to spread out.
Like mist lifting from a lake.
You think of the simple comforts waiting for you,
The canoe,
The paddles.
The food carefully packed away.
And you are anticipating a warm meal by the fire tonight.
Fresh coffee in the morning.
A sleeping bag ready to welcome you after a beautiful day outdoors.
Simple things.
Good things that somehow feel even more satisfying in the wilderness.
And eventually,
At last.
.
.
You arrive at the end of the road and pull into the quiet parking area at the entry point.
You open the door and step out into the cool northern air.
Pausing for a long,
Deep breath,
You take a moment to look around.
And truly appreciate that you have arrived.
You and your companions now start to unload and carry everything down to the water's edge.
A quiet anticipation begins to grow.
As you now recall the scent of pine needles and cedar.
The peaceful crackle of tonight's campfire.
Good food packed carefully in your canoes.
Meals you've been looking forward to all week.
That will be prepared over the fire at night.
A favorite cab dessert that you will enjoy.
Fresh coffee to sip on as dawn's early mist rises above the lake.
Simple meals somehow made extraordinary by the wilderness that surrounds you.
One by one,
The packs are carefully loaded into the canoes,
Sitting in the water at the edge of the lake.
Steady and ready.
You have just what you need for this journey.
Together you and your companions.
Now set the canoes out into the water and you step in.
Smiling as you feel them rock gently beneath you.
You dip your paddle into the still water.
Listen to the soft splash as it enters.
And the quiet drip as it rises again.
Each smooth stroke carries you farther into peaceful wilderness.
The first paddle stroke slips into the lake with a soft splash.
And then another.
And just like that,
You are moving,
Gliding forward across the still water.
Leaving the shore behind.
Leaving the noise and demands of everyday life behind too.
There's something special about those first strokes.
The sound of the paddle entering the water,
The pull,
The gentle swirl at the end of each stroke.
The quiet drip as the blade rises again.
Paddle,
And glide.
Paddle,
And glide.
Soon the rhythm becomes natural,
Effortless.
If you paddle on one side,
Your partner adjusts with you.
When it's time to switch,
You both do so almost without thinking.
A quiet teamwork,
Graceful and practiced.
The canoe moves exactly where it needs to go.
The lake stretches around you like polished glass.
Reflecting sky and clouds so perfectly that the horizon seems to dissolve.
As you look ahead,
A portage appears,
Connecting one lake to another.
While gearing up to traverse this forest trail,
You feel the reassuring thump of the canoe yoke resting on your shoulders as you journey through the woods.
A breeze brushes gently across your face,
And the warmth of the sun rests lightly on your shoulders.
And then eventually you approach your campsite.
You know right away that this will be your forest home.
It feels peaceful,
Protected.
Timeless.
You're pleasantly surprised to see a small stack of dry-cut firewood near the fire grate.
Thoughtfully left there for you by those who had used this campsite before.
And so you begin to make camp.
There's plenty of daylight and you feel so thankful that you began your adventure early in the morning.
You find just the right limb that looks strong and extends out.
And together.
You hang the food pack.
And then you select the ideal spot for your tent nestled beneath the trees.
Setting up and securing your tent.
Unrolling your sleeping bag.
While already picturing the cozy warmth it will offer later tonight.
And you collect a few pieces of firewood scattered across the forest floor.
Aware of the rough texture of the bark under your fingertips and the reassuring weight of each log that you carry.
Everything is falling into place and camp is ready.
There is still some daylight left,
And a pair of looms can be seen in the distance.
The water is calm.
The forest welcomes you with the scent of evergreen needles.
Moss.
And leaves.
As evening approaches,
The campfire is lit.
Flames rising and growing.
The wood burns clean and warm.
Carrying the fragrant scent of cedar,
Fir,
And spruce smoke.
Wafting into the cool air.
You sit on a log bench beside the fire.
And the warmth touches your face.
Cool evening air rests softly against your neck.
As you sit around the fire.
Sometimes there's conversation.
Easy,
Unhurried,
Meaningful.
There are also long,
Peaceful stretches of silence.
Broken only by the soft pop and crackle of the fire.
Everyone seems at ease here,
Present,
Mindful.
Open You are so grateful that these companions are just who you want to be with.
And the quiet satisfaction of having made it here together.
Thinking of the work that brought you to this moment.
The planning,
The packing,
The driving,
The paddling,
The carrying.
The setting up of care.
And now as you sit beside the fire.
In the middle of the wilderness,
It all feels worth it.
And it all came together.
As the light begins to fade,
The sky softens into gold,
Then rose,
Then violet.
Then deepening blue.
The silhouettes of the pines grow darker against the horizon.
And then the first stars start to twinkle.
Eventually dozens,
And then thousands emerge,
And then the number of stars become beyond your comprehension.
Yet it feels plausible that a billion stars are now illuminating the deep indigo expanse above you.
The lake mirrors each star,
Creating a second night sky resting beneath your canoe.
You become aware of the generations that came before you,
Who also gazed up at these stars.
In this moment,
You can truly feel a sense of awe as you are enveloped by the vastness and mystery of this starlit night.
And then somewhere out on the lake,
You hear a loon call.
A haunting,
Beautiful voice that echoes through the stillness.
Then from farther away another answers.
And the sound lingers in the air.
Ancient and wild.
Eventually,
The fire burns lower.
The glowing coals settle into a softer light.
And it feels natural to make your way now toward the tent.
And now,
For the first time all day,
Nothing needs your attention.
Nothing except this beautiful place.
You walk back to the shoreline and look out across the lake.
Taking it all in slowly.
So grateful to be here.
You find your tent easily among the trees,
Sturdy and welcoming like a little woodland cottage at the end of a long and satisfying day.
You unzip the door and crawl inside.
The space is cozy,
Safe,
Familiar.
You settle onto your sleeping pad.
Which feels just right beneath you.
Then you slide into your sleeping bag,
Warm and comfortable.
Outside,
The wilderness continues softly around you.
A faint ripple at the shore.
The continued call of the loom.
A quiet breeze stirs the branches overhead.
And sometimes an evergreen needle drops and you can hear it softly brush the outside of the tent and then gently slide down to the forest floor.
Small waves slap gently against the rocky shore.
An owl offers a soft call from deep in the trees.
And as you lie here in your cozy tent,
You find yourself imagining tomorrow's canoe adventure.
When you'll be gliding at a steady pace.
With the canoes of your companions nearby,
Feeling a sense of freedom and lightness like the flock of geese that gracefully fly above you.
As you float along,
You see many lakes,
And each is unique.
Some with islands.
Some are shallow with many twists and turns.
Others are banked by high rock formations or tree-covered rocks.
All created in some ways by giant glaciers that long ago slowly carved the land away.
And you continue to paddle and feel each stroke becoming slower.
And as you feel your canoe paddling slow,
Your breath becomes deeper.
Your thoughts quieter.
Your thoughts are as smooth as the lake itself,
Drifting now peacefully without leaving your attention.
Here in the tent,
You are completely at rest.
Resting in the gratitude for this time to feel hell.
Sheltered.
At peace.
Safe.
And as you continue to breathe in the fresh forest air.
You may notice that your breath is now as calm as the water itself.
Sleep approaches you gently,
Naturally,
Like the quiet night settling over the lake.
Any remaining thoughts just drift away like ripples fading off in the distance.
The tall pines stand watch outside.
The stars shine above the treetops.
The lake rests in darkness.
And you too can rest now.
And you are drifting deeper and deeper,
Settling into safety and stillness.
The stars remain overhead.
The pines gently sway in the night breeze.
And the boundary waters quietly hold this peaceful place for you all through the night.
Knowing that when morning arrives.
You will be up sipping and savoring your coffee as the gentle mist rises off the lake.
Sleep deeply and peacefully.
And let the calm,
Timeless beauty of the wilderness carry you gently into dreamland.
Sweet dreams.
And good night.
You you
