Surrender and unwind in this calm sleep story and guided bedtime meditation for deep healing sleep.
You are listening to October Nights.
In this bedtime story,
Travel through time and return to the laundry club for a cozy gathering on a crisp autumn night in the basement laundrette of a historic brownstone.
You join the quirky and beloved characters of this monthly gathering in a city of artists and dreamers.
Comforted by the sounds of the washing machines and smells of fresh laundry,
You share stories,
Laughter and decorate pumpkins.
One by one each member slips away to their quaint apartments and you return to yours.
You fall asleep on freshly cleaned linens,
Still warm from the dryer.
It's time to dream away.
I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.
I am Michelle and as you tune in,
Think of my voice as that of a dear friend and guide.
I am here to remind you of your powerful imagination and the ability you have to self-soothe before sleep.
This magical transitional time is a bridge between your waking and sleeping life.
You have earned every moment of peace,
Comfort and joy that may be found right now.
Now is the time for soothing thoughts and serenity.
Any thoughts that do not serve you may be placed on the highest shelf of a closet and revisited at another time.
As these thoughts pop up as they are known to do,
Visualize placing them in a box and tucking them away for later.
You are free to customize this experience however you want.
You may skip the breathing exercises or tune out my voice and fall asleep at any point you like.
Do what feels right for you.
You know better than anyone what you need and desire right now.
Get cozy in your bed and wiggle out any remnants of the day.
In the sanctuary of your room and mind,
You may go deeper within your interior world.
Scan your body for any place that is holding tension and release it into the night.
Take in a deep breath and inhale until your body rises and expands.
Open your mouth into a great big yawn.
You signal to your body that it's okay to settle down and prepare for sleep.
Then let out a sigh.
Take in another deep breath and fill your belly and lungs for 1,
2,
3.
Open your mouth and yawn.
Then sigh it all out for 3,
2,
1.
At your own pace,
You consciously inhale and exhale one last time before returning your breath to normal,
Safe,
Relaxed,
And ready to take an adventure through time.
Manhattan in the 1960s teems with possibilities for creative types and dreamers.
The energy of hope permeates the fast-paced dwellers who share the tiny concrete island.
With a limited space,
The only place one may reach is for the stars.
Innovators focus on the potential rather than limitations.
And so each passing day,
The city continues to grow upward in a never-ending expansion.
The humid warmth of summer has at long last been replaced with the cool reprieve of October.
You find yourself on an uptown train that opens onto the platform in a station on the Upper West Side.
Melodic notes of longing sing out from the saxophone of a busker who stands in the center of the busy platform.
Like the evening cry of a loon,
The familiar tones of his playing seem to say,
I'm still here,
Are you?
In residence answer his call with loose coins that drop into his sapphire velvet-lined case.
And when you reach into your pocket to drop a few coins into his case as well,
You are overcome by the rippling effect of living in a city.
In this moment you recognize that everyone is connected,
Be it by choice or chance.
You walk through the turnstile beneath the vibrant glow of station lights and ascend the subway steps into the solve of darkness and quietude along Central Park.
While at once the flurry of activity underground is soothed by the stillness of this quaint neighborhood,
The street and sidewalks glisten from the remnants of an afternoon rain shower.
The air smells of wet sidewalks and sweet,
Damp leaves.
You walk along the stone walls that line the park.
Fallen leaves are stirred by a gentle breeze caused by Mother Nature and speeding yellow taxis.
The sidewalk is layered with a mosaic of leaves in shades of copper,
School bus yellow,
Rusty orange and gold.
If you leave,
Stick to the soles of your tawny boots as you cross Central Park West and walk towards your quiet street of low-rise buildings.
Autumn decorations are out in full force on your quaint street as the month leads up to a block party.
Cottony webs cascade down the broad railings of brownstones and land on scarecrows,
Skeletons and corn stalks.
Pumpkins and gourds pepper the stairs and terraces of neighboring buildings.
And in tradition,
You will meet in the cozy basement of your building to carve and paint pumpkins for display.
Nights like this make a city of millions feel as intimate as a small town.
Silvery blue clouds move across a waxing gibbous moon,
Just days shy of being a full hunter's moon.
The street is cast in the warm golden tones of street lamps and silvery moonlight.
The nip in the air is both sharp and pleasurable,
And you relish the warmth of the earth-toned sweater and slacks that you wear.
The sills of double French windows of a pianist's apartment are adorned with pumpkins and lanterns.
The warm glow and melodic sounds of his evening practice session slip out of the slightly cracked window onto the street.
You inhale the night air and smile,
Comforted by the city of music.
He ends the piece and looks out the window to catch your gaze.
He nods and you wave in a familiar and kind exchange before he returns to the black and white keys.
You come to your building and ascend the reddish-brown steps that lead to the foyer.
An autumn wreath made of red maple leaves,
Dried sunflowers,
And pine cones hangs on the front door.
You smell the faint aroma of dried flowers and are suddenly drawn to the warmth of the building.
You remove your key from a sweater pocket and insert it into the cast iron lock.
You open the heavy door and a rush of warm air greets you with the aroma of butternut squash soup and baked apples.
The rich scents are clues about the menu for tonight's laundry club gathering.
The heavy door slowly closes behind you with a tired squeak and soothing soft click.
It is a barrier from the sounds of the city and seals you into the safe cocoon of your building.
You ascend the soft,
Carpeted stairs to your second floor apartment and unlock the door.
An overstuffed laundry bag rests against the molding of the door frame.
You step into the kitchen to grab a box of specialty teas from Sri Lanka to bring to the gathering.
Your beloved pet comes running towards you and rubs against your legs.
Their eyes are still sleepy after being awoken by your return.
You leave your apartment and your pet leads the way down the stairs.
A soft patter of pet paws is followed by your heavy footsteps.
You balance the laundry bag on your shoulder and the tea box beneath your other arm.
Your arm softly brushes against the gold damask pattern of the burgundy silk wallpaper and your bag glides across the mahogany wood paneling.
The staircase is narrow and conjures thoughts of when the building was a family's primary residence before it was converted into apartment dwellings.
You are happy to be part of the different kind of family that is formed with the changes brought by time.
You count each step as you descend in what has become a ritual of consciousness and gratitude.
You appreciate every working part of your body for its ability to bring you up and down the stairs.
You descend the last set of stairs that lead to the cavernous basement hallway.
You walk by a window and look out at the courtyard.
The ivy drips down brick walls and the outdoor space is decorated with Halloween decor and small fire pits.
You hear the soft drums of the dryers in motion and the murmurs of your neighbors who have gathered before you.
All at once the smells of apple turnovers,
Butternut squash,
And fresh laundry travel on the warm air.
And while the basement is often cool this time of year,
It becomes a haven on nights the laundry club gathers.
The dryers and clanking silver heat pipe that runs through every floor create a warm atmosphere.
You open the wooden door into the launderette and see that nearly everyone has gathered.
Dorothy is often the earliest to arrive in the late afternoon and has already finished her laundry.
She is the oldest resident of the building and carries a grandmotherly charm.
The more you get to know her over time,
The more you witness the bawdy side of her that reminds you of Broadway legends.
You set down your laundry bag and greet everyone.
Your pet races towards Dorothy and rubs against her legs.
You bring the box of specialty tea to your dear neighbor and her eyes light up with gratitude.
She rises to arrange the tea by a hot plate that warms a kettle of water.
Tom,
A middle-aged writer,
Sits comfortably in a plush velvet armchair as he finishes up a crossword puzzle.
Dressed in a tweed blazer with shoulder patches and brown slacks,
Tom often looks like the face of an ad for smoking pipes.
He sits in the golden glow of cast iron wall lamps as he toils away on the puzzle.
Tiffany-style lamps are scattered on side tables and illuminate the room in colorful light.
Miniature gourds are scattered about the lamp bases and are a gift from Ed.
Ed is the newest member of the laundry club.
The son of Chinese immigrants,
He was born and raised in the West Village where he helped run the family's launderette.
A quirky character,
He is a constant source of laundry advice and cooking tips.
Ed arrives behind you with a milk crate of pumpkins and painting supplies for tonight's activity.
Over the summer,
Ed and Dorothy reconnected at a high school reunion and an old flame was reignited.
Having passed on the family business to his son,
Ed delightfully moved into the last empty apartment in the building.
He and Dorothy reconnected as if no time had passed.
Their rekindled love brings hope and new energy to the group and continues to evolve before your eyes as the perfect New York story of romance.
Madeline,
A young and energetic baker who lives on your floor,
Comes down the steps with her basket of laundry.
She is dressed in billowing chiffon garments and a burgundy paisley pattern.
You greet her and both begin to fill the washers with your garments and detergent.
Tom donates his finished newspaper to line the table oft used for folding laundry,
But will be used tonight as a pumpkin decorating station.
Ed gleefully sets out the pumpkins and supplies with the energy of a teenager in love.
Dorothy offers to prepare a cup of tea for you as you feed the washer with coins and start the machine.
You look through the circular glass door as the water fills the tub.
There is something so satisfying as watching the clean water stream down the glass and saturate your belongings.
The machine makes a whirling sound and spins and you watch suds form.
Charlie the building super enters the room still in his navy uniform.
Madeline invites him to help himself to some soup and turnovers.
The two of them are like siblings,
Always looking out for one another.
Watching them reminds you how everyone in the building looks out for one another.
Each member makes their way towards the soup bowls and fills the ceramic vessels with steamy butternut squash soup.
You take a warm apple turnover as well and retreat to an armchair to enjoy this comforting taste of fall.
The silky thick soup coats your throat with warmth.
The buttery pastry flakes melt on your tongue and leave a hint of cinnamon.
Madeline puts a record on the player and soft,
Crackling melodies sung by New York crooners play over the sounds of the washers and dryers.
Ed prepares the pumpkin station while everyone finishes eating.
The wash cycle ends and you and Madeline return to the machines and remove your damp,
Clean smelling items.
You place your belongings in the dryer,
Insert a few coins and then listen for the soft drumming sound to begin.
Everyone does their own thing at the same time,
Like members of an orchestra playing different instruments and parts,
Yet harmoniously coming together.
The laundry club is free of judgement and celebrates the unique qualities of every member.
In this special place,
You are reminded that it is okay to be the full expression of yourself at any time,
And in the company of this chosen family,
You are safe and loved.
Charlie and Madeline bring chairs over to the table for Ed and Dorothy to get comfortable.
You join the group and decide whether to carve or paint your pumpkin.
Tom remains in his armchair and rifles through the pages of a book for tonight's reading.
Madeline paints an autumnal scene of Central Park on her pumpkin.
Her fingers gracefully move with the same artistry used to create the most delicate of pastries and pies.
Ed and Charlie engage in a playful competition as they carve caricatures of each other.
Dorothy paints the silhouette of a cat in a barren tree while your furry companion sleeps by her feet.
Dorothy remains your pet's second most favorite person in the world.
You are lost in the meditative act of creation.
With no plan,
You spontaneously decorate your pumpkin and don't focus on the outcome.
You recognize how this approach plays out well in other daily feats.
Being present,
Being in tune,
And knowing that your attention to the present moment will always deliver a worthy outcome.
Tom clears his throat and begins the night's reading.
Autumn and Sunset by Mary Ann H.
T.
Bigelow Hail sober autumn!
Thee I love,
Thy healthful breeze and clear blue sky,
And more than flowers of spring admire thy falling leaves of richer dye.
Twas even thus when life was young,
I welcomed autumn with delight.
Although I knew that with it came the shorter day and lengthened night.
Let others pass October by,
Or dreary call its hours or chill.
Let poets always sing of spring,
My praise shall be of autumn still.
And I have loved the setting sun,
And then his rising beams more dear,
T'is fitting time for serious thought.
It is an hour for solemn prayer.
Before the evening closes in,
Or night's dark curtains round us fall,
See how o'er tree and spire and hill that setting sun illuminates all.
So when my earthly race is run,
When called to bid this world do like yonder cloudless orb I see,
May my sun set in glory too.
The book closes in a quiet clap.
A moment later the dryers become silent and still.
The last song on the record plays and everyone in the room takes a moment and collectively sighs.
You walk to the dryer and remove your articles of clothing.
You carefully fold them and place them in the depths of your laundry sack.
You then take a heap of sheets and blankets and pile them on top.
You tighten the drawstring of the bag and your pet awakens and comes towards you.
The silver heat pipe clanks from time to time.
Madeline and Tom clear away the soup bowls and clean up the remaining crumbs while the rest of the crew cleans up the pumpkin station.
You stand for a moment and watch these remarkable neighbors work together.
You boil water in the tea kettle to make one last cup of a sleep inducing varietal.
You prepare the elixir for everyone in the room.
A gust of wind blows caramel hued leaves against the window and makes you all the more grateful for the warmth of the tea.
Everyone gathers around to get their tea and raise the cups in a toast to signal the end of the October meeting.
You taste the mint and lavender notes of the tea as it flows down your throat.
Madeline yawns first and the feeling becomes contagious as everyone in the room is led to yawn in a domino effect.
One by one everyone begins to return to their apartments for the night.
You gather your laundry sack and pause to look back at Ed,
The last remaining guest.
Ed tidies up the table and washes the last of the tea cups with a look of pure joy on his face.
You watch him and offer to help but he declines.
He places the tea cups on a towel to dry.
He then gathers the milk crate of decorated pumpkins,
Excited to arrange them on the front stoop.
You turn off the lamps and follow him to the hallway and up the stairs.
Your pet follows at your heels.
As you and Ed part ways in the foyer,
He turns his head and his eyes sparkle.
You know it was a lucky day when I moved into this building.
It may have been the luckiest day of my life.
You smile at his confession and wish him good night and somewhere you feel that your luck changed as well from the moment you joined the laundry club.
You ascend the steps to your apartment,
Feeling tired and sluggish.
Your arms and legs feel a slight burn with each step as you count your ascent to the second floor.
One,
Two,
Three,
Four,
Five,
Six.
You readjust the bag on your back and continue up the final steps.
Seven,
Eight,
Nine,
Ten,
Eleven,
Twelve.
At the top of the stairs,
You walk past Madeline's apartment and hear the faint sounds of the radio playing.
You open your door and your pet runs into the living room.
You follow and close the door behind you and relish the gentle click of the lock as you are now tucked away in your snug apartment.
Safe,
Serene.
Your sleepy pet follows you into the bedroom.
You make the bed and they hop on the sheets and blanket as you smooth them.
You walk across the hardwood floors to an antique armoire and put the folded clean clothes away.
You change out of your fall attire and bring freshly laundered cotton pajamas to your nose and inhale their soothing fragrance.
You change into them.
The pajamas are still warm from the dryer and feel soft against your skin.
You walk to the window and look out onto the city.
Orange and copper leaves swirl like tumbleweeds across the concrete below.
You draw the curtains closed and the room becomes dark.
You pull back the blanket and top sheet and climb atop the plush mattress.
Very deep breath and inhalation of the clean laundry brings you back to memories and love that you have shared in the basement launderette.
Your head sinks into the clean pillows and you close your eyes.
Your pet joins you on the bed and snuggles against your side.
You drift between the soothing moment and the sweet calling of sleep.
You travel on a wave of love and appreciation for this communal night.
These feelings of love and connection wrap around you like a cape and bring super powers that will enliven your dreams as you sleep through the night.
Relaxed,
Carefree,
And I am going to count you down to a night of deeply restorative and healing sleep.
One,
Nine,
Eight,
Seven,
Six,
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One.
Finding bliss,
Finding grace,
Finding peace,
Finding sleep.
It's time to dream away.
Good night.
