The Secret Garden On The Roof | Guided Sleep Story

In a bustling city an unexpected invitation brings you to a Beaux-Arts building, where a kind soul has crafted a tranquil oasis above the concrete canyons. You explore the wondrous maze-like garden and fall asleep in a hammock beneath a canopy of sunflowers. Come dusk you awaken to a new world, as candles flicker and you take in the city lights in the harmonious garden. As you return to your cozy apartment, you wonder if it was all but a reverie. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Drift to sleep with this calm bedtime story for grown-ups.

You are listening to The Secret Garden on the Roof,

Set in a bustling city on a sweltering day.

You receive an unexpected invitation to a secret oasis atop a historic apartment building.

The rooftop garden drips in wisteria,

Honeysuckle,

And serenity,

And offers a cool reprieve from the urban canyons below.

You explore the maze-like garden and discover a hammock where you nap beneath a canopy of sunflowers.

You awaken at dusk to enjoy a crackling fire overlooking the city and mystical garden.

Come nightfall,

You return to your cozy apartment and fall asleep,

Wondering if it was all but a reverie.

It's time to dream away.

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

I am Michelle and as you are listening,

Think of my voice as that of a trusted friend who wants you to feel your best and most relaxed.

Let my words unlock the unlimited healing powers of your imagination.

When you can't sleep,

You may be using your imagination for worry,

But tonight we flip the switch and use it for pleasure and inner peace.

With your eyes closed,

Settle into the support and comfort offered by your bed.

Delve into the sanctuary of your room and mind as unwanted thoughts drift away like floating clouds that reveal a blue sky.

Adapt each detail in a way that complements your intentions and desires.

Give in to the gentle tug of sleep.

At any point in this journey,

You deserve a night of sleep that comes as easy as the tepid waves of an incoming tide.

As the expert on being you,

Investigate your body for any holding or tension.

Let out an exaggerated sigh,

Shrug,

Wiggle,

Do whatever feels right to shake off the day and turn your attention to the sacred time for repose.

Inhale slowly as if taking in a healing tonic that will soothe every part of your body.

Imagine the air smells of your favorite flowers in bloom.

Open your mouth and yawn.

Feel the soft kiss of a breeze on your face as you luxuriate in this surrender.

And then sigh.

Let everything go on this breath.

Any holding,

Any tension,

Any resistance to the process of coming down from the day.

Enjoy two more rounds of this pattern of breathing on your own.

Each round goes deeper as you inhale,

Yawn,

And sigh.

And just when you think you are the most relaxed you could ever be,

You explore even more delicious and soothing moments of letting go.

As you inhale,

Yawn,

And sigh,

Your breath returns to normal and in this welcome state of feeling good,

It's time for the story to begin.

The weather is unusually warm for this time of year.

As you walk up a bustling avenue in midtown Manhattan,

Peering to the north is the green promise of Central Park,

Where tourists flock from around the world to take in one of the most famous city parks.

But on days like this,

Even 843 acres doesn't feel like quite enough space to find the solitude you desire.

The air is sticky and heavy,

Making you feel as if your legs and arms could sink through the steamy concrete sidewalk.

A white puff of condensation rises from an orange and white striped steam pipe at the crosswalk and drifts to the piece of blue sky that reveals itself between skyscrapers.

The subway rumbles below you,

And a current of warm air escapes sidewalk grates and blows against your legs.

You lean against a fire hydrant near the bus stop as taxis and bicyclists breeze by,

Racing their way north.

The sun is high,

And its persistent rays beat down on the sidewalk as beads of perspiration form on your forehead.

And yet even in this noisy,

Energetic frenzy,

You become still and observe the world around you,

As if watching a movie unfold.

You focus on the dozens of characters going about their day.

A food delivery team rolls catering carts down the sidewalk,

Avoiding well-dressed office workers on their lunch breaks,

Who quickly weave between the crowds of families and couples visiting Manhattan.

Everyone has a story,

And your mind wanders to imagine where each person has come from and where they are going.

Lost in the soupy air and your own thoughts,

The soft squeal of bus brakes surprise you,

And you stand to attention.

The doors open,

And you wait for a nanny and two small children to board before you.

You ascend the stairs,

And the bus door closes behind you,

Dampening the clamor of sirens and a jackhammer penetrating the concrete.

The outside noise is replaced with the soothing hum of the bus engine.

The bus driver smiles at you as you pay.

His charismatic grin and playful energy reveal the traits of a soul who has learned to not sweat the small stuff.

Even when the small stuff is magnified by city noise and traffic and soaring temperatures,

The air conditioning washes over you,

Restoring you.

As you wander to the back of the bus,

You steady yourself,

Finding balance by grasping the cool silver handrail overhead as the bus takes off.

More than half the seats are empty,

But you continue to the back of the bus,

Where a lone woman with long silvery gray hair sits and does a crossword puzzle.

You settle into the plastic blue seat across from her and rest your head against the window.

Close your eyes,

Feeling the vibrations of the bus as it continues towards Central Park South and turns west.

You begin to breathe deeply and focus on the sound of your breath,

Allowing everything else fade.

And then,

You hear the woman's voice.

You're feeling okay,

Dear.

Your eyes flutter open,

And you see the woman has folded her crossword and placed it in a wicker purse.

She wears a coral shift dress and an ivory linen blazer with navy trim.

She is poised and kind.

Her eyes sparkle with curiosity and concern.

You look quite tired.

The heat can be something.

You smile faintly and nod and let her know you are enjoying the cool air and have been on the go so much you didn't realize how much you needed to sit.

You may not always be so open to a stranger,

But something about the hot day and her friendly eyes become a truth serum.

You reveal that you could use a vacation,

But vacations are expensive.

The woman listens and then says,

They are indeed,

But you know what else is costly?

Stress.

Stress is expensive.

This makes you laugh because you haven't thought about it that way.

The bus winds around Columbus Circle and continues up Broadway.

The woman introduces herself as Marjorie and reveals she lives 20 blocks uptown.

She has the faintest accent that has been weathered by decades in the city.

The more you interact,

The more familiar she seems and you realize you must have crossed paths with her before in your neighborhood.

Marjorie tells you about a secret rooftop garden above the Beaux-Arts building where she has lived since the 70s.

She describes it in vivid detail,

Explaining how she grew up in a small stone cottage surrounded by fields of lavender.

She moved to New York as a teen and declares the city has always been her greatest love and true home,

But she needed a place where she could nurture things and connect with nature.

The garden became her refuge.

You realize the bus is a few blocks away from your stop and press the yellow tape to signal the bus driver to stop.

You tell Marjorie that her garden sounds like a dream and the mere thought of it is relaxing.

Marjorie notes that you are getting off at the same stop and asks if you would like to see the garden.

It's not that common for a total stranger to propose something like this,

But it is often why one chooses to live in this city.

Every moment offers the chance for something unexpected.

And so you agree to come along.

As the bus pulls up to the curb,

You follow Marjorie through the back door.

You accompany her down a side street of low-rises and brownstones and arrive at a glorious 15-story building on the corner.

No detail was overlooked in its design.

Cupolas and turrets offer the charm of a castle.

Granite,

Terracotta,

Limestone,

White brick,

And copper make up the facade.

Scrolls and ornamentations in stone surround French windows and elaborate black iron Juliet balconies.

Marjorie says the building was in disrepair when she first moved into her apartment on the top floor and had access to a private section of the roof.

In the 19th century,

When the building was first erected,

The entire building aimed to be self-sufficient by creating a rooftop farm.

Of course,

The city eventually shut it down.

Marjorie leads you through a revolving side door and the rush of cool air from the marble lobby offers a reprieve from the outdoor heat.

Vases of dried eucalyptus are arranged on tables throughout the lobby,

Adding a sweet aroma to the air.

She guides you past two doormen who stand behind a gold and black desk.

They greet Marjorie by name and she brings you to the elevator bank and presses the button.

You enter the first elevator of the six when the doors open and ride to the 15th floor.

The elevator opens next to a square spiral staircase that runs the entirety of the building.

Sunlight pours through a sky well and illuminates the lacy designs of the black metal balustrades and white marble stairs.

Marjorie leads you to a small hallway that has a hidden door you would have missed.

She unlocks and opens the door to reveal a narrow circular staircase that winds its way to the roof.

You follow her through the cool shadows of the stairwell that leads to another door.

She opens it and white gold sunlight pours over you.

You follow her outside into a mini forest of potted white birch trees and tall reeds of bamboo that rustle in the breeze.

The air is many degrees cooler up here,

Away from the concrete and traffic and surrounded by plants and trees.

The sun filters through the leaves.

As Marjorie leads you to a pergola dripping in honeysuckle,

The aromas of their sweet nectars permeate the air.

A crystal pitcher full of raspberry lemonade and ice sits on a mosaic table that Marjorie made decades ago.

She invites you to join her for a drink and a small bite to eat.

You sit on a colorful silk cushion in a white wicker chair.

She opens a basket that contains cool wet towels that smell of lemongrass.

She offers you one to cleanse your hands and face of the city grime and does the same.

Marjorie pours you and herself a glass of lemonade,

Enhanced with raspberries,

Grown on the roof.

You hear the footsteps and shuffle of a young man arriving with a tray of tea sandwiches.

Marjorie introduces you to her grandson Aaron.

He kisses her on the cheek and says he hates to dash,

But has an early rehearsal to attend.

When he leaves,

Marjorie explains he plays the saxophone,

And while he's been part of bands and orchestras most of his life,

He always seems to most enjoy busking in Central Park on summer days.

Marjorie offers you the tiny sandwiches,

And you both eat.

The conversation pauses.

Once finished,

She tells you about the many plants and flowers she has rescued from the curb,

Nurturing roses and orchids to bloom.

Every piece of furniture was salvaged and restored or redesigned by her throughout the years.

As you sip on the perfectly balanced lemonade,

With just enough sweetness and acidity,

You feel your body cool down.

Your breathing becomes deep.

You hear a flutter and look up to see two hummingbirds dipping their beaks into the bright orange-red honeysuckle.

You are in awe to find these birds thriving atop the city.

Marjorie smiles and explains several creatures have found a home in her heavenly garden.

She snaps her manicured fingers and two fluffy white rabbits run beneath the pergola.

She picks one up and nestles her against her chest.

You reach down and pet the other one.

You notice a bowl of carrots on the tray,

And Marjorie tells you to offer one to the bunny.

You do and find yourself laughing as the bunny's nose twitches and he nibbles at the carrot.

Never could you have imagined that you would have this experience when less than an hour ago you were caught up in the frenzy of Midtown.

Once satiated,

The rabbits take off to a rabbit house that resembles a pastel-hued cottage.

Marjorie says she has some work to do and encourages you to explore the garden and enjoy it for as long as you would like.

You feel so good,

Refreshed,

And at ease.

You feel lighter,

No longer bogged down by the noise and heat of the city.

The ambient sounds of the city are distant,

And as you stand,

Marjorie turns on lo-fi music that plays throughout the garden.

The music surprises you,

Quite hip and modern for what you may have expected her to play.

The analog beats and wandering melodies make a soothing soundtrack as you explore the roof.

You follow a wooden path that winds around a slate-gray birdbath where three sparrows take a dip.

Wisteria hangs across a row of three trellises that you duck beneath.

To the right are lush rose bushes in an array of pinks,

Reds,

And yellow.

To the left you discover a hammock surrounded by dozens of sunflowers.

It's an ideal place.

You sink into the hammock,

Feeling the silky interwoven threads cradle you beyond the canopy of sunflowers.

You can see a clear sky and the outline of skyscrapers in the distance.

As you close your eyes and begin to drift,

You feel a sense of peace wash over you.

The sounds of the city fade away,

Replaced by the soft murmur of a nearby fountain and relaxing music.

You surrender to this magical moment of tranquility,

Feeling your body sink deeper into the hammock.

Every now and then,

The faint honk of a horn or a bus speeding uptown is heard.

These sounds no longer bother you,

But rather emphasize how lucky you are to be in the serene oasis.

You lucid dream,

Coming in and out of consciousness.

Your breathing takes on the sound of the ocean as you rock ever so gently back and forth in the hammock.

Ders to a dream,

Inspired by the garden.

You see the wisteria blooming in all its glory,

The sunflowers swaying in the gentle breeze,

And the raspberry bushes heavy with fruit.

In your dream,

You walk around the garden,

Admiring the beauty of each plant and flower.

You take a seat on the edge of a mermaid fountain that sprays your face.

You close your eyes,

Savoring the feeling.

One dream leads to the next,

And you find yourself transported to a far off land.

You walk through fields of lavender,

Feeling the soft petals brush against your skin.

Climb a mountain,

Feeling the wind whip through your hair.

You swim in a crystal clear lake,

Feeling weightless and free.

As your dreams come to an end,

You feel yourself being pulled back to the rooftop.

Yet you take some time to open your eyes,

Enjoying a beautiful dance between consciousness and sleep.

Eventually,

You awaken to find the garden is transformed.

Citronella candles flicker softly,

Contained in antique glass and metal lanterns.

Scattered throughout the garden,

They cast a warm glow over the rows of flowers you have yet to explore.

You slowly rise out of the hammock and stretch your arms overhead.

A small fluffy dog comes running to greet you,

Brushing its tail against your legs.

You smile at this new friend and follow the dog through the rose garden.

On the other side,

You discover Marjorie standing by a glass-enclosed tabletop fire pit that crackles and pops in the cool evening air.

She looks out onto the city.

Edison lights are strung across the garden,

Creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

Their glow mirrors the twinkling lights of the city.

From this part of the garden,

You can see across the glistening blue-black currents of the Hudson River to the west and the dark vastness of Central Park to the east.

This part of the garden harmoniously balances nature and the wonders of the city.

Marjorie has changed into a cardigan and slacks and formally introduces you to her dog,

Simone.

She asks if you enjoyed your nap.

You smile and explain you haven't felt this relaxed in so long.

You feel a sense of gratitude towards her for bringing you to this remarkable space.

As you look around the garden,

You notice new details that you hadn't seen before.

The flowers seem to be more vibrant,

The leaves greener,

And the air smells sweeter in the cooler temperatures of dusk.

Lavender grows out of white flower boxes surrounded by forget-me-nots and berry bushes.

You recognize a part of the garden where Marjorie grows tomatoes,

Zucchini,

Corn,

And herbs.

You take a deep breath in and savor aromatic notes of jasmine,

Roses,

Lavender,

And mint.

Marjorie invites you to join her on the cushioned bench of a porch swing.

As you take a seat,

You feel the warmth of the flames.

You settle next to her and look up at the twilight sky as the moon rises over Central Park.

Marjorie begins to tell you a story about her own life,

And as she speaks,

You feel yourself slipping into a dreamlike state.

The sound of her maternal voice soothes you,

And you feel an innate trust in this woman who was but a stranger hours ago.

She tells you about the little village where she was raised modestly and taught to be frugal.

Her childhood dreams had been fueled by romantic portrayals of New York in American cinema.

She would travel by train for over an hour a few times a year to enjoy these films.

At night,

She would return to the lavender fields,

Walking through the rows of purple flowers as the blossoms slipped between her fingers and look to the stars.

She would make a wish that she could one day live in a world where the beauty of her village and the allure of New York could coexist.

She explains that this garden is proof that those dreams came true in their own special way.

You sit in a comfortable silence and smile,

Admiring this woman for all she has done for you and all she has done by being such a beautiful soul.

In this chaotic world,

You hope to one day be invited back to the secret garden.

It is getting late,

And time is so easily lost in this enchanted world.

Above the city,

You let Marjorie know you should head home.

She puts out the fire and blows out the candles along the way as her dog trails behind you.

As you walk through the garden,

The Edison lights turn off by sensors,

Leaving a trail of the darkness of night in your wake.

When you arrive back at the elevator banks,

Marjorie's small dog zooms around the marble floors with one last burst of energy.

You thank Marjorie for sharing the magic of the rooftop garden with you,

Feeling grateful for this unexpected gift of peace and serenity.

She smiles and brings you close to her in a hug.

She looks you in the eyes and says,

Many things in life can be expensive,

But stress I believe costs us the most.

You smile and both promise to keep in touch.

As you make your way down to the busy streets of the city,

You carry the memory of the garden with you.

The sounds and smells of the city are still a bit overwhelming,

But you feel more at peace and centered than before.

You realize it is easy to be relaxed when everything around you is serene.

Carrying this harmonious sense of calm in the streets is a practice you aspire to maintain.

You take a deep breath in,

Hold it for a moment,

And then slowly exhale.

You repeat this a few more times as you continue for a couple of blocks and arrive at your historic apartment building.

You ascend the stone steps to the entrance,

Drifting as if in a dream.

You continue down the long cavernous hallway and ascend three flights of stairs.

You insert the key into the lock and listen for the familiar click as you enter.

You go through the familiar motions of preparing for bed and are soon tucked beneath your sheets,

Ready for sleep.

You drift with ease,

Letting go and imagining what wonderful things you would like to harvest in your own life.

Knowing that dreaming is the most enjoyable form of planning,

You surrender,

And brimming with hope and gratitude as you cross the bridge to your sleeping life,

Finding peace,

Finding repose,

Finding sleep.

To dream away.

Reviews

Excellent! Thank you kindly for this wonderful bedtime story!🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

This was absolutely delightful, Michele, thank you🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻I discovered the story yesterday morning by accident, realized I had never heard it before, and felt excited using it throughout the night, even though I fell (back) asleep almost immediately. Luckily, I woke up around 5 am, and was then able to catch most of the story. LOVE it. Imagine having access to that in the middle of Manhattan…The unexpected encounter, the invitation, the sheer magic of it all: heavenly!🙏🏻🌟🦋🌟🦋🌟🙏🏻

My condo building once had a rooftop patio, now gone and I miss it dearly! Although it was nothing like your story Michelle! Thanks

Wonderful story of a quiet & beautiful garden escape from a busy city. I felt so much peace in this secret garden. Now that spring is here, I have been outside planting flowers & herbs. My garden is my sanctuary. Thank you, Michelle.

Another wonderful story! Thanks for all the extra hours of sleep!

Very relaxing and soothing got me off to sleep nicely

Magnificent story I slept seven hours after this relaxing getaway. I love the time I spend in my garden with the smell of rosemary and mint and pineapple, sage and lavender. Enjoy my hummingbird visitor while drinking my coffee in the morning sun. Namaste.🙏🏽💝🥰

Thank you for this relaxing meditation session. Namaste 🙏

As always, fell asleep quickly & will have to repeat! Just love these bedtime stories! Thank you kindly for this wonderful story! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗