The Coziest Attic For Sleep: A Rainy Escape

Let the sounds of rain and soft thunder soothe you as find comfort in the attic of a Victorian home in a seaside village. Nostalgic and serene, this cozy space takes you on a journey through pleasant memories as you discover old trinkets and beloved possessions in an old chest. Fall asleep beneath a well-worn patchwork quilt in a charming nook as the rain drums on the window and sleep comes with ease. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Set your worries free and relax with tonight's bedtime story for grown-ups.

You're listening to The Coziest Attic.

Prepare yourself for a deeply comforting retreat to a sleepy nook within a historic Victorian home high above a charming seaside village on a rainy day.

This nostalgic journey will connect you to blissful memories,

Offering a safe refuge among beloved items from the past as you are gently lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of rain upon the roof tucked beneath a handmade quilt.

Snuggle up and embrace the warmth of the sleepy tale.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I am Michelle and as your guide and friend on this journey,

I will help you unlock access to your own inner sanctuary.

Because when you are worried or having trouble sleeping,

You may uncover ways to self-soothe before you drift across the gateway between your waking and dreaming life.

You may let go of my voice at any point you wish as this experience should be personalized to your needs and desires.

My voice will always lead us to safe and comforting places and you may let it drift into the background as waves of sleep arrive.

Tonight's story was inspired by novels I used to pour over as a teen.

Hold up in my room on a rainy day,

Dreaming of magical seaside towns.

From John Updike to John Irving,

I would get lost in the tales of New England,

Craving my own coastal cottage or Victorian mansion hideaway.

It's also inspired by the power of our senses,

Of the smells and tactile sensations of mementos and things that can instantly transport us back through time.

As we prepare for sleep,

These memories and thoughts can help us reconnect with feelings of safety and coziness.

I invite you to embrace a moment of playfulness,

Letting your body wiggle and stretch and take all the space you need to,

Playful like a pup settling in its bed.

Now come to stillness.

This is your time,

Your sacred space,

Earned at the close of another day.

Let out a generous audible sigh,

Casting away any thoughts that dare to interfere with this nightly escape.

When you're ready,

Sip in the night air like a dreamy tonic,

Inhaling through your nose and then release with a sigh.

I'm going to count us down and you may continue to inhale,

Perhaps yawn and sigh at your preferred rhythm.

This relaxation exercise will help repair our senses for the cozy embrace of the attic.

With each descending number,

Allow yourself to sink deeper into comfort,

Clearing your mind for a night of play.

Let your mind settle on the image of the soft faded colors of a patchwork quilt and the warm glow of a lamp casting gentle light on it.

As you do,

Allow your eyes to gently rest,

Noticing any tension held in your forehead or around your temples as it begins to soften and gently release.

4.

Tune into the calming sounds,

The rhythmic patter of rain on the roof,

And the faint,

Comforting rustle of old pages that you leaf through.

Feel the muscles of your jaw relax,

Your lips softly parting,

Releasing any tightness you might be holding.

3.

Become aware of the comforting physical sensations,

The gentle weight of your head sinking into the pillow,

The soft cushioning beneath your body,

The comfort of your covers.

Allow your shoulders to drop as any tension in your neck and back melts away.

2.

Imagine the gentle aroma of aged books and the faint,

Sweet scent of brewing tea wafting through the dry attic air.

Notice the gentle rise and fall of your chest and abdomen,

Feeling your breath soften as it becomes effortless.

Allow yourself to fully experience the profound feeling of a deep sense of peace,

A sense of belonging,

Being exactly where you need to be right now.

Allow your arms and legs to grow heavy,

Feeling waves of relaxation undulating through your entire being.

And in a state of peace,

It's time for the story to begin.

Imagine yourself in a mystical village by the sea,

In a region that has always spoken to you in some way.

This coastal area is known for its morning mists that usually give way to warm sunny afternoons.

But today is different.

A rainstorm hovers and the air feels damp and cool.

Your breath condenses in tiny clouds and you can feel the dampness in your bones even as you hug yourself to keep warm.

A scarf around your neck,

A gift from long ago,

From someone who loves you very much,

Takes flight on the increasing winds that warn of the storm's increasing intensity.

An umbrella,

Not just any umbrella,

But one you selected to boost your mood on the grayest,

Rainiest days.

Adequately keeps you dry even as you invite the cool salty mist to land on your lips.

A subtle taste of this maritime world.

Your cozy galoshes land on the reflective slate sidewalk,

Made uneven by the passage of time and the enduring roots of tall old trees that have gently pushed up the earth around them.

You find a quiet strength in your balance in spite of the increasing wind as you gracefully move through this hushed harbor town.

The grand victorian homes that surround you bloom in varying vibrant hues.

Deep sapphire,

Sage,

Warm apricot,

Lavender,

And raspberry pinks.

Their artistry evident in delicate gingerbread trim,

Elaborate scalloped patterns beneath bay windows,

And silent widow's walks reaching for the clouds.

Each pointed roof and ornate design stands in splendor.

Their colorful pastel and earth tone palettes are a comforting contrast against the deepening bleak gray underbellies of the clouds overhead.

No matter how many times you walk through the village,

There's always another detail that stands out,

Revealing a sign of care and effort.

Meticulous hands crafted these homes and tended to these gardens.

And this love is imbued in a silver mist.

It vibrates through the village and makes you wonder,

What would the world be like if everyone could experience this kind of care and attention to beauty?

You follow a street and turn onto a lane with a sharp incline,

Feeling a soft burn in your calves as you ascend.

The homes on Castle Hill were erected long ago,

A safe retreat from tides that dare to rise.

Offering elevated views of the harbor.

But today,

When you look behind you through the silvery lavender hue of the fog,

You can barely make out the silhouette of the marina in the distance.

The raindrops slither down your umbrella in slender streams,

Plopping onto the earth below in fat drops.

Just as the tempo of the rain increases,

You come upon your Victorian home.

Behind a picket fence,

A sprawling emerald green lawn glistens in the rain.

Cherry blossoms add pops of cotton candy pink,

Their petals falling with the rain as if in competition.

Flower boxes overflow with a rainbow of tulips in full bloom,

From shades of crimson to eggplant and butter yellow.

As the rain nourishes them,

You feel a wave of appreciation.

These vibrant colors rely on gray days to thrive.

The rain splats against the slate sidewalk and bounces off your rubber boots.

A few droplets land on your hands as they sneak under the canopy of your umbrella.

But you don't mind,

Awash with a wave of relief at being home.

You approach the picket fence as your fingers land on the cool,

Wet surface of the metal latch and you unlock it.

A familiar squeak of the hinges welcomes you home,

Along with the sound of the fence automatically closing and latching behind you.

The energy shifts,

Bringing a sense of bone-deep safety as you are enclosed within the confines of your property.

The landscape is saturated with your energy.

All the fixtures,

Colors,

And designs reflect your preferences.

The home has three floors,

With graceful bay windows on the first and mullioned windows on the second,

With charming Juliet balconies.

Every window is adorned with colorful shutters that feature subtle nautical and lunar cutouts.

You take just a brief moment to take in the beauty of this four-bedroom home that is all yours.

You continue up your walkway comprised of colorful flagstones like purple and burgundy lily pads afloat on a snow-white river of landscaping rocks.

You step lightly,

Slowing down to take in this quiet moment of splendor,

Allowing yourself to even dance in the rain.

Your home looms majestically as you come up on stairs that lead to a grand wraparound porch wide enough to host at least 20 people on warm,

Dry summer nights.

The music of another time seems to still play on,

Carried now by the soft patter of raindrops upon the petals of the flowers.

A porch swing sways in the breeze with gentle whispering creaks.

The air smells of fresh-cut grass and flowers and the smell of fresh rain.

You walk to the front door and notice the ornate patterns of the stained-glass window that comprises more than half of the entryway.

Running your hand over the design,

The beauty of it always gives you a sense of joy when you return home as you focus on the vibrant jewel tones of sapphire blue,

Chartreuse,

And deep green.

You open the heavy door and step into the foyer where a mahogany wood antique coat stand awaits.

You hang your wet coat,

Removing your shoes and setting them on the mat below you before placing your feet into plush slippers.

This is just the kind of day you were hoping for.

A quiet afternoon to explore past memories stored in a hope chest in the attic.

And as the warm dry air of the house hugs around you with tranquility,

A sense of adventure stirs within.

You approach the staircase that leads to the second floor with its deep mahogany banister that has been polished to shine even in the dimly lit space.

You ascend the stairs,

Feeling the cool smoothness of the banister beneath your palm.

It's the kind of fixture that conjures childhood fantasies of sliding down it.

A quiet smile touches your lips as once more you feel this hint of playfulness still within you.

At the top of the grand staircase,

You reach a long hallway carpeted with a weather-worn Turkish runner that softens a gentle cushion beneath your feet.

Along this passageway,

A row of stained glass windows mirroring the front door's beauty casts cool tranquil hues onto the wall and floor.

It almost looks like a rising sea around you.

At the far end,

A small white wooden door just three-quarters the size of the others with an angled top reveals itself.

You reach for the black cast iron ring,

Unlatch it,

And duck beneath the low frame.

Stepping onto worn wooden stairs,

They wind gently in a circular motion.

A gradual mystical ascent as if inviting you into a secret fairy tale realm until you reach the warm creaking wooden floors of the coziest attic.

The attic is like a home unto itself.

Nestled quietly is a small brown leather side table with antique metal studs where a magnificent Tiffany lamp rests,

An antique from the turn of the 20th century.

With a gentle tug on its metal beaded chain,

The lamp awakens,

Casting a soft rainbow glow that bathes the room in tranquil colors.

A profound sense of warmth instantly unfolds you as the attic air,

Much warmer than the rest of the house,

Encourages your muscles to soften.

The last vestiges of any chill melt away like snow before a roaring fire,

Leaving you with a sensation as comforting as the first spoonful of warm soup on a winter's day.

There is a narrow rectangular window from which you can see the sea clearly on sunny days,

But now it appears a muted navy blue beneath a translucent white fog.

The rain intensifies and you hear its drumming on the roof,

Feeling grateful for the warmth and coziness of the attic.

There is an electric glass tea kettle on an elegant,

Antique opal tray that rests on an upturned milk crate.

It perfectly showcases how the coziest attic offers such an eclectic blend of mementos and puts things to use that were long ago retired.

As you turn on the kettle,

The vase illuminates with red lights as the contained water is heated.

Next to the kettle is a teacup and saucer and a wooden box of tea imported from India.

You remove a teabag that features some of your favorite flavors and place it in the cup,

Waiting for the water to heat up.

The attic smells of books and a bookcase runs the entire length of the opposing wall,

Filled with many original copies of the finest literature.

These books came with the house.

You go to them,

Running your hands against their spines,

As if going up and down the keys of a grand piano.

The tea kettle starts to bubble,

The light turns green as it shuts itself off.

You pour the hot water into the cup,

Instantly smelling the botanical redolence that wafts in steam,

Meeting your nose the moment the water cascades onto the leaves.

And this ritual reminds you of being a child as elders gathered over tea and caught up.

And taking you back to this experience,

Of running through a neighbor or a family friend's home while tea was consumed,

Makes you feel safe.

It reminds you of what it was like to not question the future,

But to live in the moment.

And right now,

You savor the moment.

A pair of old ice skates hang upon a nail on the wall,

Their laces tied in a bow.

From when they were carried to a nearby skating pond in the winter,

They conjure images of snowy days and the sound of metal blades cutting into smooth,

Newly formed ice.

You think of sleds going down hills of snow,

And how often the changing weather can inform someone of new joyous activities to come.

Another old wooden milk crate is flipped on its side,

With a vintage record player atop it and dozens of record albums lined up within.

Their cardboard covers have white patches,

Where the images have worn away over time.

And the coziness of this experience has the feeling of a needle coming upon vinyl and crackling softly as the music plays on.

Lightning flashes over the sea as thunder rolls gently in the far distance.

You take your teacup and saucer and walk over to a hope chest beneath the window.

A knitted afghan blanket rests atop the antique chest.

You take a seat on a cream shag rug near it,

Setting down your saucer and tea on a tiny footstool to your right.

You carefully remove the blanket and turn the skeleton key that is resting in the lock of the chest.

You turn the key and feel the lock click before you push up the heavy top and let it rest against the wall.

Inside the box are many precious items that you have collected or inherited throughout your life.

First,

You find a photo book from when you were a child.

You see yourself as a baby and a small tot,

Just learning your way in the world.

No matter how things played out,

You made it from that moment to right now.

But then,

Before there were pressures and made-up requirements to behave in a certain way,

You relied on your instincts and were unafraid to voice your needs and be completely transparent about how you felt.

And in this moment,

You allow yourself to wonder what it might be like to reconnect with that same authenticity,

To be transparent with how you felt and what you desired.

You are able to do that now,

To be honest with yourself,

To settle into these treasured items that are portals to memories of long ago.

And these memories inform you,

Perhaps even re-inform you,

Who you are.

You recognize the thread through time like a tender silver strand upon which these experiences hang,

United by the continuity of you,

Of your spirit or soul,

Or whatever it is that you can feel that has always been there.

The consciousness and awareness.

Only you know what this experience is like,

In spite of all the universal human emotions and feelings.

The story is uniquely yours.

And the coziest attic gives a chance for you to honor all of this.

And as you rummage through more items,

Your hand brushes against a piece of fabric.

You pull it out,

And it's the adult-sized costume of a character or aspiration you always dreamed of being when you were young.

You may not even wear it now,

But it awakens you once more to a sense of playfulness.

To the ways your desires have changed,

While some remain the same.

The imaginative part of your mind awakens.

It illuminates in a way,

Like a new birth,

Like a baby robin breaking through a sky-blue shell.

The spring's rays of sunlight break through.

You remember the joy of stepping into a new role,

Embracing qualities you admired,

And allowing yourself to pretend.

As an adult,

There are always roles that we play.

To fit in.

To work life.

To home life.

But when was the last time you had a chance to play a role,

Simply for the sake of fun?

You unlock this curiosity.

A sense of boundless possibility.

That is even more possible as an adult,

Where you can help shift your fate.

As you go through your life,

This experience may remind you to feel and to experience things fully,

Rather than to let your mind wander to worry or things beyond you.

And this thought is quite lovely as you sip on the tea.

The idea of just being as you are.

Right now,

In the warm air of the attic,

Nestled upon a shag rug,

You continue to explore.

Inside the hope chest,

You find a letter written to you from someone who supported you.

Maybe it was someone who you admired and wrote to,

And were so delighted they wrote back.

But this aspirational soul ignited a spark within you,

Inspiring you to chase after a dream.

Whoever it is,

Perhaps it's someone you forgot about,

You look upon the handwritten scroll,

And it is as if this person appears alongside of you,

In the form of a hologram,

Reading each word kindly written to you over your shoulder.

You hear this person's voice as the rain continues to patter upon the roof and the storm rolls in.

And you feel safe,

You feel loved.

You run your fingers upon the indentations of where the pen pushed into the stationery.

You accept these loving words.

You feel special.

You remember who you are,

The versions of yourself that once were,

Dreams of who you wished to become.

Here you are,

All of these reflections and aspects of you throughout time,

Coming together in this moment.

And going through the hope chest,

You find other relics from the past that make you feel happy.

You sip some more of your tea,

And feel the slightly sweet elixir cascading down your palate.

Soothing you deeply.

You inhale and exhale,

Feeling so good,

Cozy and warm.

And within the hope chest,

You pull out one last item.

It's soft and retains a transformative scent that acts like a time machine,

Bringing you back to a vivid,

Beloved memory.

The item reminds you of a deep feeling of love you once shared with someone.

A person,

A pet,

A version of you from long ago.

But this item holds great meaning,

Brings you a wave of happy reflections.

It's something that makes you feel that there is something bigger and beyond this moment.

And you,

You watch as the sky darkens outside,

The puffy storm clouds now rolling in fast,

And shades of dark plum black.

Lightning bolts zigzag through them,

Illuminating the darkness with white hot light.

You begin to put everything neatly into the chest,

But hold on to one item.

It's a stuffed plush toy that gives you a sense of security.

When you bring it to your nose and inhale,

The fragrance of another time fills the attic,

Bringing you back to moments of peace and tranquility.

Of early bedtimes on stormy nights,

Of nightlights and flickering candles,

And safe hideaway.

Of bedtime stories and the coziest blankets and pajamas this life has offered you.

You carefully put the lid down upon the chest and take the stuffed toy,

Feeling quite tired.

You desire a nap as you walk to the bed in the corner,

Hunching lowly so as not to hit your head on the sloped ceiling.

You feel the buttery soft cotton of the quilt,

Feeling loose stitches as you run your hand along it.

You grab a corner and peel it back.

Smelling the fragrance of fresh laundry as you climb into the plush bed with a stuffed toy in hand.

You feel safe as if you are in a little cave as the ceiling angles in a way to form a pod around you.

Your head falls upon the plush pillows as you relish in being dry and snug as the rain continues to fall.

It patters against the window as the wind begins to howl and as the rain cleans the glass,

You feel a cleansing as well deep inside your body as you just sigh it all out.

You close your eyes,

Nestling your face in the downy stuffed toy and feel yourself drifting,

Floating across the bridge to the sleepy world that awaits you.

Feeling so safe and tended to as you were when you first united with this toy.

And even now,

You are able to let go of it all,

To just be present to the sensation of relaxation and serenity.

Feeling calm,

At ease,

At peace as if a wave of bliss gently cocoons around you,

Resting heavily like a weighted blanket.

And you may let go of my voice,

Letting your dreams guide you to uncharted territories where anything is possible and where you may envision the best life for you.

Where you may find restoration to help you become the best version of yourself come morning.

But for now,

Rest at ease.

You are well.

You are loved.

You are safe.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.

Reviews

I loved the feeling of being in this warm & nostalgic Victorian house. Being a quilter, I always am snuggled beneath a quilt, so I felt cozy & peaceful in the bed. Thank you, Michelle, for this beautiful sleep story.

Michelle, I listened to this on repeat three times & fell asleep so soundly that I never heard any of your story. I put it on this morning hoping to hear the whole story & fell asleep again! I am exhausted looking after three granddaughters & guess I really needed the rest! Thank you kindly, as your voice is so hypnotic that all my worries evaporate as your lovely voice puts me to sleep so quickly. Will try to listen later today as I am curious about the story! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

Thank you, Michelle🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻How perfect that a rain storm was raging outside all night long - we need the rain - while listening to the story, drifting in and out, so lovely🙏🏻🌟😴🌟😴🌟🙏🏻

Lovely way to go to sleep. The sights and sounds were so real for me.

This was lovely Michelle, I liked the breathing section before the story as well. 💙