The Healing Garden: A Sleep Story And Guided Meditation

Find yourself in a picturesque seaside town on the cusp of autumn before a storm rolls in. Strolling through Main Street, you pass historic homes before arriving at your own Victorian home. You walk beneath a trellis of rambling roses to the lush garden in full bloom that you have nurtured. Before the rain arrives, you collect healing plants that you steep into a colourful tea. You curl up on a velvet couch as the storm brews outside and you dream away fireside.

Transcript

Sleep is but a story away in this guided sleep meditation entitled The Healing Garden.

Tucked within a bucolic seaside town,

You find yourself walking through a historic village of Victorian homes.

On the cusp of autumn,

You enter your property lined with picket fences to come upon a garden in full bloom,

Gathering healing remedies before a storm rolls in and you retreat to the safety of your Victorian home.

You steep a special tea with plants from your garden before finding comfort in the living room before a fire as the storm continues into the night.

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

My name is Michelle and as you are listening,

Please think of my voice as that of a guide and fellow adventurer.

I am here to help you open the doors to possibilities and dreamy landscapes that wait for you,

Conjured and enhanced by your own imagination.

You know what you need better than anyone else and should you wish to drift to sleep before the end of the story,

Please do.

You may always return to this story and notice how even when sleeping,

The story may pleasantly affect your dreaming life.

These lasting impressions will help you find beauty as you cross over the bridge between your waking and sleeping life.

It's time to dream away.

Take cozy and snuggle up beneath the comforts of your bedding as you wiggle out any lasting impressions of your day.

Take in a deep breath and let it turn into a hearty yawn before you sigh all the air out.

As you exhale,

You may imagine yourself walking along the main street of a seaside town.

Near the town's harbor,

You can make out the rocky shoreline beneath a thin veil of silvery fog that floats above the placid sapphire waves of the ocean.

Every now and then,

A vibrant white crest of a wave shines through the gray fog.

The mist further drifts through the main thoroughfare like a lazy wanderer.

Your comfortable broken-in loafers step on the cobblestone sidewalk,

Creating a soft patter as you walk past antique shops and a flower shop and local bakery.

Smells of freshly baked bread and lilacs and the salty mist of the sea are like aromatic ribbons that weave together into one harmonious fragrance that reminds you of the heart of this quaint village.

You enjoy the sensation of the fog upon your skin as the lasting impressions of summer hint the air with humidity and delicate warmth that is about to be interrupted by an incoming cold front.

In anticipation of sweater weather,

You long for the cozy season,

But also relish the fleeting warm expressions of summer.

You pass by the local barber shop with its iconic red,

Blue,

And white striped barber's hole,

It is an insignia used since the Middle Ages and as antique light has served the shop for generations.

A family of four walks by as the children lick soft serve ice cream from sugar cones as their parents guide them along.

Their recently adopted puppy launches forward on a leash eager to greet you as the parents try to regain control and their inexperience shines.

You politely nod and smile,

Petting the puppy's downy fur as you enjoy the small town exchange.

You say goodbye and then continue onward as you come to Mansion Street and veer away from the center of the village.

The street inclines on a hill that affords all the homes lovely views of the sea.

Sush,

Deciduous trees line the streets a month or two shy of when their vibrant green leaves will transform into autumnal shades before drifting to the ground.

The historic homes are painted in an array of pastels in shades of periwinkle and lavender and raspberry and buttercream.

You walk to the top of the hill and arrive at a cream-hued wooden picket fence that surrounds your sprawling Victorian home.

You take in the beauty of the historic house with intricate details in the siding and roof with hand-carved swirls that remind you of a rainbow twist lollipop.

You look up to the roof walk,

High atop the house it juts against the overcast sky where storm clouds are rolling in from a distance.

The trim and shutters of this storybook home are in your favorite hues and surround the ornate bay windows on the first and second floors as well as the octagon-shaped windows that provide lookouts on the third floor.

You feel the cool rough wooden surface of the gate as you open it and step on the burgundy and blue-gray flagstones that line the walkway to the front steps of the veranda.

The kelly green grass grows high,

Not quite yet in need of a mow,

But you step off the stone walkway to explore the garden in the back of your property.

It is your magical oasis that you have tended to throughout the spring and summer months.

And while caring for each flower and each plant,

You found yourself all the more focused on the importance of self-care and nurturing yourself.

Your feet sink into the plush grass and damp earth as you walk towards a white pergola dripping in soft pink rambling roses in full bloom.

The flowers are supported by the wooden beams trained to grow over the structure harmoniously depending on its support.

This type of rambler is known as the awakening rose and it's medium in size but gives you a larger than life feeling of purpose and sense of awakening as you walk through the passageway to the garden.

Like you,

Every flower has a history and story as well.

On the other side of the pergola,

Your garden awaits in perfectly organized raised wooden beds that you have built with your own hands.

Tomato plants grow up a white trellis so plump and vibrant in shades of red that you make a mental note to pick them and make sauces or can them to store for the winter months.

Eggplants,

Purple,

Black and fat,

Are nearby the other night shades.

Another section is dedicated to thick green zucchini and yellow squash so plump they look ready to burst.

Vines of strawberries dangle from a white trellis.

The berries are juicy and plump as well.

Sunflowers are planted between the garden boxes,

Leaning tall against the picket fence of the back of the property.

Their heads are so heavy,

They appear to be respectfully bowing towards the earth with humility.

Tall green corn stalks grow in another raised box,

Swaying gently in the late summer's breeze.

There is a slight nip in the air as a cold front moves in,

But it feels like a welcome reprieve from the humid stillness of the garden.

A hand-cast sculpture of a mermaid,

Standing as tall as you,

Takes center stage of the garden with her carved tresses flowing towards her seashell top.

She luxuriates in the middle of a circular fountain,

Where you often come and sit and write or read while seated on the stone ledge.

Her face is beautiful and wise,

While also serene and content.

Her tail is intricate,

With tiny scales individually carved by an artisan.

The craftsmanship of the mermaid often makes you think of all the unique features of you that have been designed by genetics and by time.

You are the embodiment of all that has happened to you in this life.

Just as she carries the memories of summers in the garden,

Having weathered many a storm,

And the craftsmanship of the artist who designed her.

The fountain sprays water from over a dozen spouts that fill the pool where she rests.

You continue to walk on the plush grass as dark purple black storm clouds move in overhead.

Their underbellies are ominous and puffy,

Giving a deeper urgency to your mission as you come to your favorite part of the garden.

There is a wooden sign made of driftwood that you discovered on the beach after a storm,

And hand painted the words,

The healing garden.

In this section you have cultivated all the wondrous herbs and plants that help to heal and soothe.

Some are key ingredients in preventative tonics,

While others carry on the tradition of healing ailments from centuries and centuries of practice.

Cumbersome extra-large terracotta planters house hibiscus flowers in full bloom that grow in brilliant shades of fuchsia.

When steeped in a tea,

They may soothe sore throats and boost immunity and lower blood pressure and cholesterol.

Inside the garden box,

Sprigs of mint grow with their tender green leaves that feel like felt when you touch them.

Their fragrance intermingles with the smell of the sea and incoming rain.

Chamomile flowers grow and appear like delicate daisies,

With their bright yellow centers and soft white petals taking over the edge of the raised garden.

Ginger roots grow deep in the soil,

Used to treat stomach ailments and bring warmth to the body.

A row of echinacea grows as well.

There is a row of lavender that you have used to steep and mix with carrier oils to help yourself relax and sleep.

Then you will dry bunches of lavender in the sunlight before hanging them over your bed or breaking up the dry petals and placing them in silk pouches that you then nestle within your drawers of clean linen and sleepwear.

You walk to a row of aloe vera that grows on the opposite edge of the healing garden,

Breaking off a piece of the plant.

You rub it on your hands,

Moisturizing your sun-kissed skin that is bronzed over months outdoors,

Enjoying the season and harvesting your garden.

You can recall the early months of the growing season when you started planting seeds in the sunroom of your Victorian home.

Watching with anticipation as the early sprouts began to appear,

You wanted to rush time to get to this point of full bloom.

And here you are,

In the moment of full splendor of all your work and all the miracles of nature.

Your garden is a reminder of all that is bigger than you.

That you are part of something bigger and may choose to flow with this mystical energy and wonder.

You may do things that remind you that you are in harmony with life.

A small set of shears hangs upon a nail on the garden's wooden fence and you take them and begin to snip sprigs of mint and chamomile flowers and one hibiscus flower that is in full bloom to make yourself a fresh tea.

You then snip the lavender,

Bringing a few stems of the calm-inducing flower indoors to put in a vase.

The timing is perfect as the first big cold drops of rain begin to patter upon the plants of the garden in a soft staccato.

With your handful of recently trimmed plants,

The aroma of the mint is the most pungent as you hop across the yard towards the back door of the sun room.

The sun room is your favorite place in winter as the glass enclosure offers sunlight and warmth that you relish in the shorter days of the season.

You open the glass door,

Feeling the cold cast iron handle in your hands before the sky erupts into a downpour.

The heavy rain splats upon the glass enclosure as you close the door behind you.

The sun room is full of your favorite flowers in full bloom as well,

Reminding you of visits to the village's greenhouse and flower shop that inspired you to create your own.

A green thumb is not so naturally occurring as one may presume.

Like most skills in life,

It is developed by learning and by instinct,

A little bit at a time,

By experiences,

By successes and failures,

And by opening yourself to the wisdom of the world and to the wisdom of those with more experience.

Looking at the rainbow of delicate petals that surround you,

So colorful and vibrant in contrast to the dark gloomy weather that has painted the skies above,

You feel gratitude.

You feel hope.

And you feel the reminder that anything is possible and you are always learning and growing a little bit at a time.

Just as the seeds when they first began to sprout,

So too are you capable of discovering new things and growing in new ways.

It is never too late.

You walk towards a second glass door that leads into the comforts of a vintage kitchen.

With original farmhouse cupboards and wooden floors,

You open the door into a warm reprieve of cozy charm.

The door shuts behind you as lightning illuminates the room,

Following a soft clap of thunder in the distance.

You remove your shoes and place them on the doormat before stepping on the cool wooden beams of the kitchen that creak beneath each step.

In the center of the kitchen is an island with a marble countertop that feels smooth and cool under your hand.

As you set down the sprigs of mint and the chamomile,

Lavender and hibiscus flowers.

You walk towards the large stovetop where a cast iron kettle rests on the burner.

You push in the gas knob and listen to the click of the starter before a blue flame puffs when you turn down the knob setting.

Waiting for the water to come to a boil,

You grab a teacup and saucer and a jar of honey in which a wooden dipper swims in the amber liquid beneath a glass cover.

The end of the dipper is shaped like a honeycomb.

You bring these items to the island,

Setting them next to a glass teapot that is short and wide with a roundness like a Buddha belly.

You remove the top.

You take your healing plants to the farmhouse sink that is deep and white and rinse off your pickings.

You grab an empty vase from the windowsill behind the sink and fill it with water before placing the lavender stems in it.

You then take the mint and break off the leaves,

Dropping them into the teapot before removing the chamomile flowers from their stems and placing them into the pot as well.

Lastly,

You press the lush pink hibiscus flower through the narrow entry of the teapot before it can fully expand in the glass belly.

The fragrance of the slightly crushed petals lingers on your fingertips.

The rain continues to fall steadily and you look out the window above the sink to see darkness settling in over the backyard and garden.

The water comes to a boil,

Sending a sharp whistle into the air as you go to the burner and turn off the heat.

You carefully pour the liquid into the teapot,

Watching as the flowers and mint are submerged and begin to float.

The hibiscus rises to the top,

Floating in the middle like a flower atop a lily pad on a pond in the summer.

The tea steeps,

Becoming a vibrant shade of dark pink.

The white petals of the chamomile flower become pink as well.

You place the teapot,

Saucer,

Teacup,

Jar of honey,

And vase with lavender on an antique silver tray just as the power goes out.

Still light enough to see,

You grab a set of matches from a drawer in the island.

You strike a match and ignite an ivory taper candle that rests in an antique brass holder.

You place this on the antique tray as well and carry it,

Carefully balancing as you walk into the living room.

The room is cozy,

With a large fireplace originally built centuries ago.

There are photos of you looking happy on the beach with family and loved ones.

All of your cherished memories are collected in frames that line the mantle.

You set the tray down on a carved wooden antique table in the center of the room.

Sheer curtains below in the breeze,

Carried on the cold draught that has come in with the storm.

You close the heavy antique windows,

Smelling the fresh rain and salty air for the last time.

The room feels a bit chilly,

So you go to the fireplace and grab an old newspaper that rests on a magazine rack.

After crumbling a few sheets of paper,

You ignite them with a lighter and watch as they begin to engulf the dry wood that rests on a cast iron rack within the fireplace.

The fire crackles and pops,

Illuminating the room with a warm amber glow.

As you return to a sapphire blue velvet sofa and sit down.

You allow yourself to sink into the plushness of the couch,

Sinking deeper and deeper.

You reach towards the teapot on the table and pour the steaming ruby elixir into the teacup.

You then take the wooden honey dipper,

Swirling it in the jar of local honey before watching a long thin ribbon cascade into your teeth as you swirl the dipper.

You pay special attention to everything that happens in the moment.

As you put the dipper back into the honey jar,

Creating a thick wave as it sinks to the bottom of the glass.

You watch the steam rise over the teacup as rain water streams down the glass panes of the windows.

A bay window large and wide enough to sit in provides you a view of the pergola and roses as the rain falls steadily upon the soft pink flowers.

You raise the tea to your lips,

Inhaling the fragrant floral and minty aroma before sipping the soothing,

Slightly sweet beverage.

Lightning and thunder continue on as you are mesmerized by the comforting glow of the fire and the slender candle that slowly burns as wax accumulates like a waterfall.

You feel the softness of the velvet beneath your skin and the warm,

Tingling sensation that the tea brings down your throat and to your stomach.

Your body is warmed by the fire on the outside and by the healing tea on the inside as you feel yourself becoming quite heavy and sleepy from the elixir made from your garden and the soporific sounds of the rain.

The room is now quite dark before the flickering of orange flames in the fireplace and the light of the candle meeting the cool silver flashes of lightning outside.

You finish the tea and lie down,

Letting your head fall upon satin throw pillows.

A gold chenille throw is draped over the arm of the couch and you grab it,

Draping it over your body as you get cozy and close your eyes.

Tiredness engulfs you and a last wave of gratitude flows over you,

Making you feel at peace and content.

You are thankful for each breath as you deeply yawn and sigh it out,

Feeling your chest rise and then fall.

You are grateful for the positivity you maintain in the hardest of times.

How you find bliss even in a storm.

How you react determines how your life may play out.

It is the little moments,

Moments like these,

That make all the work and steps you've taken worthwhile,

Thinking of those little seedlings that became lush,

Vibrant plants that you then steeped into a healing tea that now grant you serenity and peace.

Change is a part of life and you are constantly changing and evolving and now escaping from to the sacred respite of sleep where healing may occur,

Where your body may restore itself.

As you surrender to the soothing sounds of the storm and fire,

Your eyelids as heavy as sandbags upon your tired eyes.

You smell the lavender as your breath becomes deeper and deeper and it makes you feel more and more relaxed.

I am going to count you down to this place of restorative and healing,

Dream filled sleep.

Ten,

Nine,

Eight,

Seven,

Six,

Five,

Four,

Three,

Two,

One.

Finding release,

Finding peace,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

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Reviews

I am really addicted to your stories, Michelle.
Thank you so much.🌷🙏🌷
Blessed Be;
Morgaine 🌸
PS: as soon as it is possible, I will donate, so sorry but IT changed it for Holland...

Thank you Michelle for another sweet and beautiful story. Enjoyed it and enjoyed your beautiful voice.

Great ❣️ Like a spiritual sleeping pill✨ thank you 🙏🏻

Love this one! Thanks, Michelle!

I was out in no time. I don’t even remember any of the story.

No idea what went on in this sleep meditation - I was out within minutes.

I feel blessed to have found Michelle’s Sanctuary for my insomnia.

So very soothing. Loved the visuals and the sounds.

love your story's
🙏

I fell asleep very quickly. Thanks!

I must admit I immediately asleep with such a gentle voice. Thank you Michelle for all you great work you share with us. 🙏