Rainy Night at Camp | Bedtime Story & Sleep Meditation

Journey to a campground with your beloved dog where a tidal estuary runs into the Atlantic Ocean. You enjoy a perfect day at the beach, exploring the tidal pools with an unexpected guest that reconnects you with your inner child. At sunset, you return to your campsite with your dog and enjoy a meal and campfire before a rainstorm rolls in. You seek refuge in a vintage pop-up camper and fall asleep to the sounds of rain falling on the canopy. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Fall asleep easily as you listen to this calm bedtime story and sleep meditation for grown-ups.

You are listening to Rainy Night at Camp.

In the sleep story you enjoy a rustic campground where a tidal estuary joins the Atlantic Ocean.

By day you explore the dunes and tidal pools with your dog and an unexpected guest who reminds you of sensations and experiences you have long forgotten in time.

At nightfall you return to your site to enjoy a campfire before a rainstorm arrives.

You seek shelter in your vintage pop-up camper and fall asleep to the sounds of rain on the canopy.

So find a safe place to get cozy and fall asleep.

It's time to dream away.

I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I am Michelle and as you listen think of me as a trusted friend and fellow traveler through time and space.

I hope my imagination will spark yours to experience rich sensations and good feelings on the sleepy adventure.

When the day comes to a close,

Sleep is your utmost priority.

Bedtime offers a time to revel in a sacred ritual.

You may always use your creative powers to self-soothe and take a mental vacation.

Silence concerns that do not apply to this moment for tranquility and restoration.

Personalize this experience in every way necessary to accommodate what you need most before drifting across the bridge to your sleeping and dreaming life.

Trust yourself infinitely and don't overthink.

You may simply feel your way along.

There are no rules.

So enjoy the ride and drift to sleep whenever it feels right.

This is your sanctuary.

This is your journey.

Allow a tide of gratitude to wash over you like the late summer water of a slow incoming tide.

Silky,

Sparkling and soothing,

These waves travel up your toes,

Over your legs and torso,

Over your fingers and arms,

And over your neck and face.

As gentle as a bay breeze,

The healing wave of energy ripples over you again and again as you sink deeper into your bed.

Turn your attention to your breath.

Inhale the night air and let out a sigh.

It can be soft.

It can be audible.

This is the first sigh of the practice that gives your body permission to release everything.

Inhale slowly as if sipping in a soothing elixir that sends all your nerve cells into hibernation.

Expand your body until it becomes so light and expansive that you could float across a night sky.

Open your mouth into a yawn and sigh as you exhale.

Release.

Let go.

Inhale again.

Imagine each molecule of oxygen sparkles throughout your body as it travels to parts near and far with a singular message.

Surrender.

Yawn and sigh as you exhale.

And welcome this tired sensation as you enjoy one more round of conscious breathing at your preferred pace.

And when you are done,

Settle in and prepare for a dreamy escape as the story begins.

In a passage from Thoreau's journals,

The nature lover penned,

I love nature partly because she is not man,

But a retreat from him.

None of his institutions control or pervade her.

There a different kind of right prevails.

In her midst I can be glad with an entire gladness.

If this world were all man,

I could not stretch myself.

I should lose all hope.

He is constraint.

She is freedom to me.

He makes me wish for a another world.

She makes me content with this.

The words from a man who reveled in nature in the 19th century have met up with you in modern times to cloak you in encouragement.

The smells of wet ash and sweet charred wood from last night's campfire waft on a late morning saltwater breeze.

Pine needles scatter across the sandy earth that surrounds your vintage pop-up camper.

This remarkable vehicle closes into a tiny cube and expands into a home away from home,

Offering a small kitchen,

Sitting area,

And bed.

Edison lights dangle around a gazebo tent that protects a gray-brown wooden picnic table during rain spells.

Your dog is the most loyal traveling companion and smiled most of the journey to this campground site where a tidal estuary meets the Atlantic Ocean.

Depending on the wind's direction,

The area carries the smell of fertile wetlands and minerality from the river,

While other times the ocean's sweet and fishy perfume pervades the air.

Mornings at the campsite begin with hope and gratitude for another gleaming day in nature.

On this particular morning,

A threat of a late-day storm looms.

You learned this from a fellow camper who read the weather report from the newspaper.

Cell phone reception is limited in the marshlands and this creates a sense of peace and timelessness when gathering with people and sharing information.

Your pup smiles with an open mouth and softly pants after finishing a late breakfast,

Awaiting a walk to the beach.

Most campers have departed after the end of a holiday weekend and the campgrounds are quiet.

Soft sounds of running water and silverware and plastic plates clinking and clacking come from a nearby communal sink where a couple washes their breakfast dishes.

The sun pours through the feathery green needles of a pitch pine tree and warms your bare arms and legs.

The trees warp as they reach for the sky with perfect nooks for sitting lazily in the afternoon.

Their whimsical branches and trunks conjure thoughts of storybook forests.

You grab a canteen of cold water and unwrap your dog's leash from the bench of the picnic table.

You are ready to set out for your daily walk.

This getaway came without a plan but something inside of you knows that you should return home soon.

On one hand you feel a desire to stay forever and at the same time long to return to the familiar comforts of your bed at home.

As you and your dog wander down a sandy trail with scattered pinecones,

A chipmunk sails across the needle branches overhead and lands perfectly on an eastern red cedar tree.

Now and then a pinecone falls onto the earth and you must keep aware of your surroundings to avoid one landing on your head.

You savor the cool shade beneath the tree and suddenly hear a rustle behind the trunk.

Normally your dog would react but the pet is unusually calm and sniffs the air to get confirmation that all is okay.

You follow the sound behind the fragrant evergreen and see a small child sitting on a bed of pine needles in the center of a ring of pinecones they have collected.

You recognize this young child closer to their fourth birthday than their third,

Dressed in familiar clothing that you once wore.

Simply looking at the fabric reminds you of what it felt like at a time in your life when core memories formed.

The child turns to you and the Sun hits their irises with rich golden light that causes them to sparkle.

Their luminous eyes are so big you can see the reflection of you and your dog in them.

This child is a version of you from long ago.

Where have you been this younger version of you asks in a sweet inquisitive tone.

I've been waiting for you all morning.

The Sun came up a long time ago you know.

The child rises as if waiting for you is routine.

Nothing out of the ordinary here.

You watch a tiny hand that was once yours brush across the needles and silvery blue juniper berries that gather in clusters on the branches.

Watching the child explore reminds you how you once felt amazement from the tactile sensations of the environment around you.

Younger you yearns to touch and experience everything in nature.

The child stands quickly having up from the earth without hesitation or assistance.

Your dog pulls towards this younger you as a child reaches out a hand to squeeze your palm.

This entire situation is unexpected and quite peculiar.

Still you go along with it just as you would within a dream.

The trail leads to a gravel road that winds around a bayside beach and leads to the ocean.

All along the walk the child's tiny hand brushes across the top of a steel guardrail into light.

Rather than judge or admonish your younger self you brush your hand along the matte steel as well.

It's hot from the Sun and smooth to the touch.

Flowers grow from hardy shrubs and flow over and under the guardrail.

Pink Virginia roses with bright yellow centers flutter on the breeze protected by dark green toothed leaves.

You focus on the sensation of the wind.

How it feels on your skin and how it cools and massages you simultaneously.

The strands of hair on your younger self are wind-swept as you come to dunes so high you cannot see the ocean.

The expanse of crystal blue sky and feathery ivory clouds feel as vast as the ocean as you climb the sloping sand.

You unleash your dog and your younger self runs ahead with your pup.

You follow closely behind and follow the guidance of your mini-me.

Like the child your fingers dance through the tall slender tendrils of American beach grass.

You weave them like ribbons between your knuckles.

A monarch butterfly hovers over purple and pink beach peas and the child tries to chase it.

Your dog barks with enthusiasm to match the excitement of younger you.

You continue to the peak of the path between the dunes and see the ocean in the distance.

The tide is low and the beach is wide covered in tidal pools that reflect the blue sky and clouds.

The three of you run down the sandy hill to the tidal pools.

Younger you runs as if it would be impossible to stop if they tried.

A few beachcombers and sunbathers scatter the sand far away from where you end up.

Two seagulls fly overhead and squawk with authority and the child laughs and shouts out hello waving at the birds that are nearly half their size.

Younger you encourages you to hurry to the tidal pools and begins to jump into the tiny puddles.

Your dog digs deep into the cool wet sand and pushes its muzzle into the hole to take in the musky seaside smells.

The air is humid and thick but the breeze slices through it like a cake knife going through whipped frosting.

Come the child cries as they wrap their cold dripping hand around yours to encourage you to jump along.

You remove your flip-flops and then bend your knees and launch above the sand.

You aim to match the child's fervor as you splash in the warm tide pools.

The water is still but the sand remains rippled and rib-like revealing the not-so-distant past when the tide was high and leaving its mark.

Your young companion plops onto the sand.

You slowly lower yourself keeping your feet in a small clear pool of water.

Your pup lies down on the damp sand keeping a watchful eye on the distant ocean waves the color of green shade.

Together you and the child dig into the sand and pull out pearly white mollusks the size of a pinky nail.

Younger you builds a wall of sand around a small pool of salt water and exclaims this is the special place where they can all be with their family.

You place all the mollusks you find into this pool.

They slip back into the wet sand like white envelopes pushed through a mail slot.

You may have arrived at points in life where you felt like you have seen it all but nothing could ever feel new or worthwhile again.

But as you sit in the sand and dip your finger into a tidal pool to trace the outlines of clouds reflected on the water you realize no moment is ever the same.

You delve into the sensory experiences that only happen now as you are.

Your younger self has reminded you of this magic in being present and alive.

You both lie back on the wet sand without concern about where the coarse grains of sand the color of peanut shells may end up.

On closer inspection you isolate pieces of the sand that glitter like caramel mirrors and sparkle in bits of opal shells.

You clasp your hands behind your head and watch the clouds.

Cotton ball tufts expand slowly into wispy fingers and feathery fronds to embrace the most vibrant blue sky summer has to offer.

You shade your eyes and lock out your peripheral vision.

As you do the sky becomes all you see and you imagine you are floating across it with the freedom of a seagull.

Your younger self grips your hand again with their sand caked rubbery fingers and holds on tightly.

And you know deep down there will come a time when that brave hand no longer reaches out with such purity and trust.

And as you remember how good it feels to have this connection you open yourself to the possibility of reaching out more when it feels right.

You forgot how nice it feels to hold hands like this.

Everything about this moment feels right.

The incoming salty mist covers your face and lips in a delicate net.

The air becomes cool as clouds conceal the Sun.

The compacted sand supports your spine and your body feels great in perfect alignment with the earth.

You are lost in the sky and in the wondrous feelings and memories that wash over you when you think of moments spent in nature.

The joy that came on every walk as a child where you collected mementos from the environment around you.

Even early in life you held on to the reminders that the world is a magical place.

Your dog awakens from a brief nap and comes between you and your younger self.

A wet sand-covered nose finds its way into the curve of your neck and tickles you first before moving on to the child.

You both begin to laugh spontaneously.

You hold on to the sweet melody of your younger voice.

A higher pitch is as refreshing as ocean waves that arrive at your feet as the tide comes in.

Together you stand and your dog brings a piece of smooth driftwood and drops it at your feet.

You and your younger self take turns launching the driftwood towards the lacy white crests of incoming waves.

Your pup retrieves it each time smiling with their mouth and eyes in this special time and place where joy is infectious.

The sky turns a deep shade of slate blue.

Not quite ominous,

But with a soft warning that a weather change is on the way.

You tell your younger self that a storm will come.

They reply,

The sky is too blue for rain.

When the rain comes it will change into the color of the color of dun dun dun.

That's when the storms here.

You laugh imagining the sound effects of color and what sound each color would make if it had its own melody and lyrics.

Without speaking you walk down the beach with your younger self.

Your dog trails behind you complacent and tired.

As you reach another path that cuts through the dunes and leads back to camp.

The small child stays.

I have to go now,

Your younger self declares.

But you can always find me at the beach or I'll meet you in your dreams with that fellow,

The child explains and then giggles while pointing at your damp sandy pup.

It's bittersweet to say goodbye until you remember that all parts of you and all the selves you have been and will be are always with you in spirit.

You smile and nod.

You tell your younger self to stay curious and strong.

You tell this three-year-old child on the edge of four that they are enough as they are.

They are worthy of love and must keep shining.

Your younger self looks back at you as if you're crazy because at this age your confidence was strong.

Younger you cannot imagine being any other way but such is the vigor of youth before the waves of life come crashing down with humility and doubt.

You both promise to remember each other and to look out for one another as well.

As your dog gets a second wind and leads you through the grass-covered dunes,

You smile and feel more full than you have in a long time.

The Sun lowers towards the bay and casts the campground in metallic magenta light.

The lustrous saturated pink and orange rays illuminate the underbellies of dark clouds that roll in.

Intuitively you know there is still time before the rain arrives.

You return to your campsite and hose off your pup and then yourself.

You use dry cedar wood to start a fire and the wood grains catch quickly,

Cracking and popping.

You feed your pup and prepare something light and easy for yourself.

The sky darkens and the threat of the storms still lingers somewhere in the near future.

You settle by the fire in a canvas chair that becomes snug around your body like a hammock.

Your dog dries off in the warmth of the firelight as the temperature drops significantly.

The winds pick up,

Cool and with a warning that the front has arrived.

All your belongings are secure and you feel well prepared for whatever nature has in store.

This preparedness makes you feel resilient and part of something bigger than yourself.

Across the grounds a camper plays a familiar song on an acoustic guitar.

The melody is faint but the impression is deep.

It imparts a love of summer and the evocative power of music.

The fire burns down into embers and you refrain from adding more wood.

The sky changes to a deep shade of purple gray and gives the dun-dun-duh energy that your younger self forewarned.

The first fat raindrops begin to fall and sizzle on the glowing embers.

The smell of rain combines with fragrant notes of saltwater,

Cedar,

Wood smoke and pine needles.

You close your eyes and cherish the feeling of the raindrops landing on your forehead,

Your lashes and your lips.

You taste the rain and it carries a salty note from the sea.

When you open your eyes you see your pup sitting before the metal step that leads into the pop-up camper.

You look up at the stormy sky and the rain falls harder increasing its tempo and force before the deluge arrives.

Nature gives a warning always with the whispers of the breeze as the temperature drops,

The change in the smells in the air and the transformation in the clouds.

Perhaps you could anticipate these changes better by tuning into the present moment more.

You walk beneath the gazebo tent and unplug the Edison lights.

You swing open the door into the camper and your pup scurries up the steps.

You follow behind and hear the familiar dunk sound of the metal step.

The camper wobbles slightly as you climb into its dry warm.

You close the door behind you.

Rain patters on the canopy above the sleeping nook.

It reminds you of the sound of rain on a tent.

The camper is sturdier than a tent and able to withstand the test of the storm.

Once changed into your soft cotton pajamas,

You climb into the elevated bed and pat on the firm mattress for your pup to join you.

You nestle within flannel sheets and beneath a puffy unzipped sleeping bag spread across the mattress.

Your head sinks into a pillow and you open a journal to write down a singular message that sums up this unexpected day.

Always remember who you are,

Who you were and who you wish to become.

You put down the pen and journal.

Somewhere in time all these versions of you must exist in perfect harmony.

Perhaps that time is now.

You turn off the lantern and place it with a journal and pen on a wooden shelf behind the bed.

The camper rocks and sways in the wind,

Surrendering when necessary like the branches of the eastern red cedar trees.

Yet like the trunks of these trees,

The camper remains firm and grounded to the earth.

A safe enclosure for you to fall asleep.

And you drift to and from the present moment savoring the soothing pelt of each raindrop and the whistling wind.

Appreciating the warmth of your pet and their weight against your body.

Inhaling and exhaling with a deep sense of relaxation and accomplishment.

So tired from all the activity,

Fresh air and sunshine from the day,

That sleep will come hard and fast.

But before it does,

You cross a dreamy bridge as you hug your arms around yourself in the bed.

You imagine the version of you that is most compassionate and nurturing.

The version of you that makes you always feel safe in your body.

Perhaps it is a version of you far off in the future.

Or maybe it is a version of you that shows up time and again.

But you see this version of you in this dreamy space between wakefulness and sleep.

You feel a warm embrace and hear this version of you whisper that you are doing so well.

That you are a wonderful soul growing and learning and becoming better each day.

This encouraging voice reminds you of the voice that showered love and you're not quite for your old self.

And devoid of snark and doubt and full of optimism and hope.

You allow yourself to be swept away to the sweet state of bliss and sleep that awaits you.

You simply let go.

The rain will continue to patter into the night and the pop-up camper will sway and rock.

Lulling you into a deep sleep as it keeps you safe and warm and dry.

You will discover the deepest sleep that you have enjoyed in quite some time.

As you inhale the fresh clean air and exhale in soft sighs that come with respite.

Finding peace,

Finding hope,

Finding grace,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.

Reviews

This brought back so many good memories. Camping and being in nature has always been a favorite of mine. As a girl, my dad & I fished & cooked it over the campfire. Later, I backpacked when my daughter was growing up. Then I had an RV & traveled with my Standard Poodle. I fell asleep to the crackling of the campfire. Thank you, Michelle, for this wonderful sleep story.

I have followed you for about 2 years but just discovered this gem today. Beautiful imagery as always combined with the most heartfelt message. Thank you.

Great bedtime story! Of course I fell asleep and don’t recall much after the breathing exercises. 😂 Thank you kindly Michelle for this wonderful story that I will definitely repeat because I would love to hear all about camping! As a kid we had fond memories of sleeping in a tent trailer! 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I fell asleep very quickly. I love Michelle’s voice!

Love this guided meditation! So grateful to have found your meditations Michelle. Thank you so much.

Didn’t hear the end namaste

Wonderful, l highly recommend Michelle's Sanctuary..

Must’ve been a boring camp as soon as I arrived I fell fast asleep 😴🤣🤣 thanks Michelle🙏🏻 a fav for sure 💜

Another great story.