BX Creek Trail Sleep Story | 8 Hours Restful Sleep
Relieve nighttime overthinking with this 8-hour sleep journey. Following along with me into a beautiful forest trail, nestled in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia. This 8-hour track features a story, read twice and paired with relaxing body scans and nature-inspired sleepy affirmations. Designed to keep you anchored in safety even if you stir in the night. This is an invitation to let go and trust the current of your own rest. Leave the day behind and allow the steady hum of the forest to carry you into your deepest sleep. Story by Susan Guttridge Music credit to Cenaris Nightingale
Transcript
Hi,
Thank you for being here and for choosing me to narrate you into sleep.
I'm Susan and tonight this longer sleep story is designed to act as a container for your night,
Holding you safely as you rest and as you drift into sleep.
You've done all the things of the day.
There is nothing more you need to accomplish.
And here,
Listening,
There's nothing required of you.
You don't need to stay awake for any part of this.
Simply listen to the sound of my voice and the soft music beneath it as you leave the busyness of the day behind and turn toward the quiet restfulness of sleep.
As we begin,
I'll guide you into relaxation with a body scan,
Helping your body release any lingering tension from the day.
Then I'll share a story I wrote for you and I'll read it through a second time even more slowly than the first,
Allowing sleep to come in its own time.
Along the way,
I'll give some reminders to deepen and lengthen the breath.
And I'll offer some kind reassuring words meant only to support deep rest and ease.
And later,
As the night continues,
The music will remain with you,
Steady and peaceful,
So that if you happen to awaken,
It can quietly accompany you back to sleep.
And if you do awaken at any point during the night,
There's nothing you need to do,
Nothing you need to think about.
The sounds,
The music will continue to be here,
Offering you calm companionship until morning.
So for now,
Allow yourself to settle in.
This time is for rest.
You are safe to let go.
Close your eyes if that feels right for you,
Or simply let your gaze soften,
Perhaps resting on one point in the room.
Take a moment to adjust your pillow and your blankets,
Wrapping them around you like a reassuring hug,
And just ensuring your body is supported in exactly the way it needs right now.
Notice the weight of your body on the mattress.
It's steady,
Reliable,
Supportive.
You don't need to hold yourself up anymore.
You can give your weight over completely.
Take a slow,
Deep breath in through your nose.
And as you exhale,
Imagine a comfortable warmth beginning at the very top of your head.
And breathing at a pace that just feels right for you.
Notice this warmth spread downward from the top of your head,
Smoothing your brow,
Smoothing the tiny muscles around your eyes,
Softening your cheeks,
Your jaw.
Let your tongue rest easily in your mouth.
There's nothing left to say today.
Your voice can rest now.
Allow that warmth to drift into your shoulders,
Feeling them gently melt away from your ears.
And if they feel heavy,
Let them be heavy.
They have carried enough for today.
Now they're off duty,
Resting comfortably on your mattress.
Bring your awareness to your arms,
Elbows,
All the way down into your hands and the tips of your fingers.
Maybe you notice some of that warmth or tingling,
Maybe a stillness even as your nervous system begins to settle into safety.
Draw in a slow breath,
Filling your chest and your belly.
Feel your ribs expand.
And as you exhale,
Sense the area around your heart softening,
Tucked safely behind the shelter of your ribs.
And just letting that warmth continue its slow journey downward into your sit bones,
Allowing this area to sink just a little deeper into your bed.
Feel the muscles of your thighs begin to relax,
Your knees softening,
And your legs grow pleasantly heavy and still,
Just supported.
And let your awareness drift now down to your feet,
From your heels,
To the arches,
To the very tips of your toes.
There is nothing more your body needs to do.
Your whole body can rest now,
Quiet,
Still supported.
And if a thought drifts into your awareness,
It's okay to notice it as if it were a distant cloud passing through the sky.
Just noticing it and then allowing your attention to return to the slow rhythm of your breath and the sound of my voice.
This is your time to rest.
You are exactly where you need to be.
I invite you to allow this sense of settledness to remain with you,
Like an anchor resting calmly beneath the surface.
And now,
With your mind quiet and your body comfortably supported in your bed,
I'll lead you through a nature story that I wrote for you.
The Willow Leaf Imagine it's summer afternoon in the Okanagan Valley,
Nestled in the heart of British Columbia.
The sun is high and golden overhead,
Steady and familiar.
Beside you,
You feel a gentle nudge against your hand,
The cold,
Wet nose of your dog,
Your trusted canine companion.
He looks up at you with bright,
Expectant eyes,
His tail happily wagging back and forth.
He,
Too,
Feels the call of the forest,
A shared,
Silent agreement that it's time to seek the coolness of the shaded woods together.
You felt in the mood for a hike,
And you knew the perfect place for one on a hot day.
So you're heading toward the shaded sanctuary of the BX Creek Trail,
A forested path where the flowing water begins from high above,
Trickling,
Winding,
And spilling out in a beautiful waterfall,
And then continuing its unhurried journey,
Winding through the forest.
Under carefully crafted bridges,
And eventually flowing along its carved path through the city below.
As you pass the trailhead and step onto the dirt path,
You straighten your backpack,
Feeling the familiar,
Supportive weight of the straps against your shoulders.
You notice the sound your dog's paws make on the dirt path,
A soft,
Rhythmic scuff-scuff.
You notice how the dry,
Sage-scented heat of the valley fades,
Replaced by the scent of damp earth and ancient cedar.
It's as if you've crossed into an invisible threshold,
Into a sanctuary where time moves differently.
You notice your senses shifting,
Becoming comfortably alert and present as you adapt to the subtle,
Distinct change in light and temperature.
You've been here countless times,
Yet each time,
You find yourself pausing to marvel in wonder.
Stepping into this forest feels like stepping into another world,
An enchanted forest,
Where the air itself feels like an invitation to slow down.
As you descend further along the path,
The temperature drops just enough to feel refreshing,
A reprieve from the hot summer sun.
The welcomed coolness of the air settles around you,
Like a soft layer of silk.
The trail beneath your feet is a mosaic of ancient roots,
Pebbles,
And damp earth.
It feels springy in places beneath your hiking boots,
Supportive,
Meeting you with each step.
And with each step,
You notice the weight of the day slowly draining away out of your body,
Releasing through the soles of your feet and the bottoms of your shoes,
With every step dissolving into the ground below.
All around you,
Rise the tall,
Majestic giants of the forest.
Western red cedars with their shaggy bark.
Douglas firs reaching upward,
Their branches weaving together to form a natural canopy.
Pale green lichen hangs from the branches like delicate lace.
You smile,
Recalling its other name,
Old Man's Beard.
You watch it sway,
Almost imperceptibly,
In the forest breath,
Soft,
Mossy threads that give the trees a sense of ancient wisdom.
It feels as if the forest itself is a kind,
Watchful guardian,
A timeless presence that has stood here for centuries,
Inviting you to rest deeply within the sanctuary of its care.
Rays of light filter through in radiant patterns,
Dappling the forest floor with sunlight and shadow.
The warm sunlight illuminates the ferns and moss and the fallen logs softened by time.
The sound of the creek follows you as you walk,
At first a gentle murmur,
Then slowly deepening,
Becoming a steady,
Flowing presence.
A sound that asks nothing of you and needs no attention.
It's simply there,
In the background of your thoughts.
As you move closer,
You hear the white noise rush of the falls,
Water rushing over smooth,
Silver-gray rock,
Rock shaped patiently by years of flowing.
A fine mist rises into the air,
Cool against your skin,
Clearing,
As though the day itself is being rinsed away.
Your dog walks easily beside you,
Content,
Unhurried,
Moving with the simple confidence of an animal who knows he's safe and cared for.
Where the water begins to rush and plunge over the falls,
The path winds further from it.
And you follow it to a wooden staircase.
You carefully descend,
Grateful to the park workers who,
Many years ago,
Designed and built the stairs for all to enjoy.
Step by step,
Downward,
You reach the bottom,
And there the path opens out to reveal the majestic waterfall.
The water gathers in a deep,
Cool pool beneath it.
Your dog trots ahead to the water's edge,
Playfully dipping into the shallows,
Then,
Stepping back onto the pebbly shore,
He shakes himself dry,
Sending a spray of silver droplets into the light.
You feel a small smile tugging at the edges of your mouth,
For you can't help but revel in his effortless moment of joy.
Your gaze shifts from your dog to the waterfall itself.
You notice how the constant,
Heavy pulse of the waterfall seems to wrap around you,
A steady hum of nature that masks the noise of the day.
In this space,
Where the water is the only sound,
The what-ifs and shoulds of the day begin to fade,
Washing away with the constant flow,
Leaving your mind as clear and quiet as the stones beneath the surface.
From the pool,
The creek narrows and turns,
The water returning to its slow-flowing pace,
And you return to the path,
Winding along beside the water.
After a while of walking along the trail,
The creek widens into a deeper,
Still pool.
You notice the water here moves very slowly,
So slowly it becomes reflective,
Mirroring the green canopy like a cathedral high above.
Stepping off the trail,
You notice a large,
Flat rock warmed by the sunlight,
Just warm enough,
Comfortable,
Inviting.
You sit,
Resting your elbows on your knees,
And enjoying the moment's rest.
Your dog circles once,
Sniffing the earth,
Then circles back and settles at your feet,
His breathing rhythmic,
Comforting,
A calm anchor beside you.
Across the water,
You notice a tall,
Elegant willow tree growing,
Its long,
Slender branches hang low,
Their tips brushing the surface of the water in some places.
Each leaf clings lightly to its branch,
Alive,
Present,
And yet ready at any moment to let go.
Behind you,
There is a soft sound of footsteps.
You turn to see a woman approaching.
She moves quietly,
As though she belongs to this place.
She stops at a respectful distance,
And you share a simple nod.
Nothing more is needed.
Her gaze drifts toward the willow,
And you find your gaze following hers,
And you acknowledge the beauty of the magnificent tree.
She smiles,
Her head bobbing silently in a nod of agreement.
It is,
She began.
Her voice is soft,
Yet it seems to carry the resonance of the creek itself.
When she speaks,
She offers more a reflection than an invitation for conversation,
A quiet sharing of truth that feels as natural as the wind in the cedars.
I see each leaf,
She whispers,
As a guest that has stayed for a season.
The willow is a gracious host.
It welcomes the leaf in the spring,
And it blesses its departure in the fall.
It understands that to hold on too tightly is to stop the flow of life.
She pauses there,
Her gaze resting on the vibrant green and the soft fading yellows in the canopy high above.
You know,
She says,
Leaves are not unlike our thoughts.
Some thoughts are full of life,
And some are ready to be released.
The willow doesn't cling when the time comes.
It understands that the beauty of the leaf is not in the holding,
But in the freedom of the release.
You listen,
Captivated by her words.
It feels as though she's giving voice to the ancient wisdom of the forest itself,
Guiding you toward a deeper understanding with a gentle,
Unassuming strength.
Looking at the willow,
You notice a single leaf detaching from a branch.
It hovers for a heartbeat before coming to rest on the water's surface.
You notice that it doesn't fight the current.
It moves with it,
Gracefully.
Effortlessly.
You watch as it journeys downstream,
A serene,
Peaceful embodiment of the art of letting go.
When my mind feels busy,
The woman continues,
I imagine my breath is the breeze,
And my thoughts are the leaves,
And I simply trust the water to know where to take them.
Almost instinctively,
You take a breath in,
As you watch the willow,
Its branches ever so subtly swaying in the breeze.
You realize that you don't need to judge the leaves or count them,
Or even understand why they're falling.
You only need to allow the breeze of your breath to meet them.
Another small leaf releases on the gentle breeze of your exhale,
Drifting downwards.
Slowly.
Turning once.
Then again,
Until it meets the surface of the water.
There the leaf floats.
It does not fight the current.
It moves with it,
Gracefully.
Effortlessly.
Carried.
Just as it needs to be.
You follow the journey of another leaf on the water's surface,
As it slowly floats downstream.
And as you watch the water,
You can't tell but notice that your body feels a little lighter.
A little more at peace.
The willow understands something important.
Its leaves do not cling.
There is no struggle.
No effort.
You watch as another small leaf releases on the breeze.
Drifting downward.
A slow dance.
Turning once.
And then again,
Before meeting the surface of the water.
There the leaf floats.
Gracefully.
Effortlessly.
Carried.
Just as it needs to be.
You smile as the realizations of what the leaves represent.
And you turn to speak,
Only to realize that the woman has quietly walked on.
Only you remain,
With your dog near your feet,
And the steady sound of water.
You feel a deep calm settled over the canyon.
Your body feels relaxed.
You're breathing slower.
Deeper.
Your mind less interested in holding on to those old sticky thoughts.
From the day.
And you notice the steady,
Warm presence of the rock beneath you.
Its smooth surface.
Holding you.
Without effort.
You reach down and rest your hand on your dog's warm,
Soft fur.
He seems half-asleep,
Yet wags his tail in a slow rhythmic acknowledgement of your affection.
When you stand,
It feels unhurried.
Easy.
You take one last look at the water.
A ray of sunlight finds its way between the branches of the willow.
The comfortable,
Cool air against your skin.
Allowing the memory of the kind interaction to settle within you.
You turn,
And as you begin to walk back,
Your steps feel lighter.
It feels as though you've let go of the weight of the day,
And are carrying the peace of the forest with you.
A peaceful spaciousness inside.
With each step,
You feel comfortable.
With each step,
You return home.
Just like the leaf on the water,
You too are being carried.
Carried by the rhythm of your breath.
The magic of the forest.
Carried by the quiet of the night.
Carried closer to rest.
Closer to sleep.
You are safe.
You are supported.
And you are ready to allow sleep to meet you.
As you continue to rest comfortably in your bed,
You may find that the sound of my voice simply becomes part of the background stillness.
Perhaps you notice the way the bed supports you.
And as you notice that support,
You might find that you can let go just a little bit more.
It's interesting to wonder which part of you will drift off first.
Your tired mind,
Or your relaxed body.
While your conscious mind listens to the quiet rhythm of my words,
Your deeper inner mind can begin to dream.
You don't even have to listen closely,
Because your inner mind already knows the way.
Back to the creek.
Back to the cool,
Peaceful sanctuary of the trees.
Any sounds you hear.
The house settling.
The gentle hum of the night.
Are all just signals of safety.
Reminders that there is nothing to do.
But relax and sink deeper and deeper into sleep.
Every breath you take is like a wave carrying you away from the shore.
The shore of doing and deeper into the ocean of being.
You may begin to notice a comfortable warmth at the very top of your head.
Spreading downwards.
Smoothing your brow.
Softening the tiny muscles around your eyes.
Relaxing your jaw.
Your tongue rests easily in your mouth.
There's nothing left to say today.
Your voice can rest.
And that warmth continues spreading downwards into your shoulders.
You may notice them melting away from your ears.
Resting comfortably in your bed.
They have carried enough for today.
Your awareness drifts downwards to your arms.
To your elbows.
To your forearms.
Into your hands.
And into the very tips of your fingers.
Into your toes.
Enjoying the warmth that's there.
The stillness.
As your body settles further into safety.
A slow breath moves through your chest.
Into your belly.
And your ribs expand like a gentle tide.
And on the exhale,
The area around your heart softens.
Safely held behind the shelter of your ribs.
And following the warmth as it continues its journey downwards.
Passing your sit bones.
Allowing this area to sink a little deeper.
Into your bed.
And your thighs begin to relax.
Your knees soften.
Your legs grow pleasantly heavy and still.
And your attention drifts to your feet.
To your heels.
Along the arches of your feet.
To the very tips of your toes.
There is nothing more your body needs to do.
Your whole body can rest.
And just knowing that if a thought drifts into your awareness.
You can notice it like a distant cloud passing through the sky.
And then allowing your attention to return to the slow rhythm of your breath.
And the sound of my voice.
This is your time to rest.
To rejuvenate for tomorrow.
You are exactly where you need to be.
Allow this sensation of settledness to remain with you.
Like an anchor.
Resting calmly beneath the surface.
Imagine it's late afternoon in the Okanagan Valley.
Nestled in the middle of the desert.
In the heart of British Columbia.
The sun is high and golden overhead.
Warm on your skin.
Steady.
Beside you.
You feel a gentle nudge against your hand.
The cold wet nose of your dog.
Your trusted dog.
He looks up at you with bright expectant eyes.
His tail happily wagging back and forth.
He too feels the call of the forest.
A shared silent agreement that it's time to seek the coolness of the shaded woods together.
You felt in the mood for a hike and knew the perfect place for one on a hot day.
So,
You're heading toward the shaded sanctuary of the BX Creek Trail.
A forested path.
And spilling out in a beautiful waterfall.
Then continuing it's unhurried journey.
Winding through the forest.
Under carefully crafted bridges.
And eventually,
Flowing along it's carved path through the distant city below.
As you pass the trailhead and step onto the dirt trail.
You straighten your backpack.
Feeling the familiar supportive weight of the straps against your shoulders.
You notice the sound your dog's paws make on the dirt path.
A soft rhythmic,
Gentle sound.
Scuff scuff.
The dry,
Sage-scented heat of the valley fades.
Replaced by the scent of damp earth and ancient cedar.
It's as if you've crossed an invisible threshold into a sanctuary where time moves differently.
You notice your senses shifting,
Becoming comfortably alert and present as you adapt to the subtle,
Distinct change in light and temperature.
You've been here countless times before.
Yet,
Each time,
You find yourself in a different place.
Pausing to marvel in wonder.
Stepping into this forest feels like stepping into another world.
An enchanted forest where the air itself feels like an invitation to slow down.
As you descend further along the path,
The temperature drops just enough to feel refreshing.
A reprieve from the hot summer sun.
The welcomed coolness of the air settles around you,
Like a soft layer of silk.
The trail beneath your feet is a mosaic of ancient roots,
Pebbles,
And damp earth.
It feels springy in places beneath your hiking boots.
Supportive,
Meeting you with each step.
And with each step,
You notice the weight of the day slowly draining away,
Out of your body,
Releasing through the soles of your feet with every step.
Dissolving into the ground below.
All around you rise the tall,
Majestic guardians of the forest.
Western red cedars with their shaggy bark.
Douglas firs reaching upward.
Their branches weaving together into a natural canopy.
Pale green lichen hangs from the branches like delicate lace.
You smile,
Recalling the other name it goes by,
Old Man's Beard.
You watch it sway almost imperceptibly in the forest breath high above you.
Soft,
Mossy threads that give the trees a sense of ancient wisdom.
It feels as if the forest itself is a kind,
Watchful guardian.
A timeless presence that has stood here for centuries,
Inviting you to rest deeply within the sanctuary of its care.
Rays of light filter in radiant patterns,
Dappling the forest with sunlight and shadow.
The warm sunlight illuminates ferns and moss.
The sound of the creek follows you as you walk.
At first a gentle murmur,
Then slowly deepening,
Becoming a steady flowing presence.
A sound that asks nothing of you,
And needs no attention.
It's simply there,
In the background of your thoughts.
As you move closer,
You hear the white noise rush of the falls.
Water rushing over smooth silver gray rock.
Rock shaped patiently by years of flowing.
A fine mist rises into the air,
Cool against your skin,
Clearing.
As though the day itself is being gently rinsed away.
Your dog walks easily beside you.
Moving with the simple confidence of an animal who knows he's cared for and safe.
Where the waters begin to rush and plunge over the falls,
The trail winds further from it,
And you follow along to a wooden staircase.
You carefully descend,
Grateful to the park workers,
Who many years ago designed and built the stairs for all to enjoy.
Step by careful step,
You reach the bottom,
And there the path opens out to reveal the majestic waterfall.
The water gathers in a deep,
Cool pool beneath it.
Your dog trots ahead to the water's edge,
Playfully dipping into the shallows.
And stepping back onto the pebbly shore,
He shakes himself dry,
Sending a spray of silver droplets into the light.
You feel a small smile tugging at the edges of your mouth.
You can't help but revel in his effortless moment of joy.
Your gaze shifts from your dog to the waterfall itself.
And you notice how the constant,
Heavy pulse of the waterfall seems to wrap around you.
A steady hum of nature that masks the noise of the day.
In this space,
Where the water is the only sound,
The what-ifs,
The shoulds of the day begin to fade,
Washing away in the constant flow,
Leaving your mind as clear and quiet as the stones beneath the surface.
From the pool,
The creek narrows and turns.
The water returns to its slow-flowing pace,
And you return to the path,
Winding along beside the water's edge.
For a while of walking along the trail,
The creek widens into a deep,
Still pool.
You notice the water here moves very slowly.
So slowly it becomes reflective,
Mirroring the green canopy high above.
You notice a large,
Flat rock warmed by sunlight,
Just warm enough,
Comfortable.
Inviting.
And you step off the trail and sit,
Resting your elbows on your knees,
And enjoying the moment's rest.
Your dog circles once,
Sniffing the earth,
Then circles back to settle at your feet.
His breathing rhythmic,
Reassuring,
A calm anchor beside you.
Looking across the water,
You notice a tall,
Elegant willow tree growing.
Its long,
Slender branches hang low,
Their tips brushing the water in some places.
Each leaf appears to cling lightly,
Alive,
Present,
And yet ready at any moment to let go.
And behind you,
There's the soft sound of footsteps.
You turn to see a woman approaching.
She moves quietly,
As though she belongs to this place.
She stops at a respectful distance,
And you share a simple nod.
Nothing more is needed.
Her gaze drifts toward the willow,
And you find your gaze following hers,
And you acknowledge the beauty of the magnificent tree.
She smiles,
Her head bobbing slightly in a nod of agreement.
It is,
She began,
Her voice soft,
Yet seems to carry the resonance of the creek itself.
When she speaks,
She offers more a reflection than an invitation for a conversation.
A quiet sharing of truth that feels as natural as the wind in the cedars.
I see each leaf,
She whispers,
As a guest that has stayed for a season.
The willow is a gracious host.
It welcomes the leaf in the spring,
And it blesses its departure in the fall.
It understands that to hold on too tightly is to stop the flow of life.
She pauses,
Her gaze resting on the vibrant green and the soft,
Fading yellows of the canopy high above.
You know,
She says,
The leaves are not unlike our thoughts.
Some thoughts are full of life,
And some are ready to be released.
The willow doesn't cling when the time comes.
It understands that the beauty of the leaf is not in the holding,
But in the freedom of the release.
You listen,
Captivated by her words.
It feels as though she's giving voice to the ancient wisdom of the forest itself,
Guiding you towards a deeper understanding.
With a gentle,
Unassuming strength,
You notice a single leaf detaching from a branch.
It hovers for a heartbeat before coming to rest on the water's surface.
It doesn't fight the current.
It moves with it,
Gracefully,
Effortlessly.
You watch as it journeys downstream,
A serene,
Peaceful embodiment of the art of letting go.
When my mind feels busy,
The woman continues.
I imagine my breath is the breeze,
And my thoughts are the leaves,
And I simply trust the water to know where to take them.
Almost instinctively,
You draw a slow breath in,
And exhale a longer breath out.
As you watch the willow,
You realize that you don't need to judge the leaves,
Or count them,
Or even understand why they are falling.
You only need to allow the breeze of your breath to meet them.
You watch as another tiny leaf releases on the gentle breeze,
Drifting downward,
Slowly turning once,
Until it meets the water's surface.
There the leaf floats.
It does not fight the current.
It moves with it,
Gracefully,
Effortlessly,
Carried just as it needs to be.
As you watch it float slowly downstream,
You notice that your body feels lighter.
Your mind feels even more at peace.
You realize the willow understands something important.
It's leaves do not cling.
There is no struggle,
No effort.
You smile and turn to speak,
Only to realize that the woman has quietly walked on.
Only you remain at the water's edge,
With your dog near your feet,
And the steady sound of the water.
You feel the deep calm settle over the canyon.
Your body feels relaxed.
Your breathing slower,
Deeper.
Your mind less interested in holding on.
You notice the warm,
Steady presence of the rock beneath you,
Its smooth surface supporting you,
Holding you without any effort.
You reach down and rest your hand on your dog's warm,
Soft fur.
He seems already half asleep,
Yet wags his tail in a slow,
Rhythmic acknowledgement of your affection.
When you stand,
It feels unhurried,
Easy.
You take one last look at the water,
A ray of sunlight dancing its way between the branches of the willow tree.
You feel the comfortable,
Cool air against your skin,
And you allow the memory to flow.
Of this moment to settle inside you.
You turn,
And as you begin to walk back,
Your steps feel lighter.
It feels as though you've let go of the weight of the day,
And are carrying the peace of the forest with you.
A peaceful spaciousness inside.
With each step,
You feel comfortable.
With each step,
You return home.
And you realize that just like the leaf on the water,
You too are being carried.
Carried by the rhythm of your breath.
Carried by the quiet of the night.
Carried closer to rest,
Closer to sleep.
You are safe.
You are supported.
And you are ready to let go.
And as you continue to rest,
You may notice that the sound of my voice is barely something to listen to now.
Just a soft presence blending into the stillness.
The bed continues to support you without asking anything in return.
And as that support remains constant,
Secure,
You can let go even more.
Without effort,
Your conscious mind may drift in and out while your deeper inner mind does what it already knows how to do.
Rest.
Restore.
Any sounds around you are steady reminders that you are safe.
Nothing needs your attention now.
The quiet of the room is around you.
And each breath continues slow and deep and natural.
Like a gentle current carrying you further away from doing.
And deeper into just being.
Your thoughts appear.
They can just pass like mist over the water.
There and then gone,
Leaving only stillness behind.
You are safe here,
Resting all through the night.
Your body knows how to rest.
Your heart knows its rhythm.
And your mind knows how to soften.
Drifting,
Settling,
Even deeper into sleep.
And from this quiet place,
You may notice my voice sharing some sleepy affirmations.
Quietly,
Gently,
You don't need to repeat them,
Or remember them,
Or even stay awake for them.
These words can simply pass through you.
Like a breath of kindness.
Mind and your heart,
Like the words of a love letter,
Meant only to reassure,
And then fade.
If sleep meets you at any point,
That's perfectly okay.
In fact,
It's welcomed.
And if you are already asleep,
These words can simply land exactly where they need to.
Your breath continues to flow in and out,
Steady,
Easily.
You are safe,
Right here,
Right now.
Right now,
In this moment,
You are completely safe.
Your body knows how to rest.
Just as the trees know how to grow,
Your system knows how to find its way back to peace.
It's okay to let go.
Just like the willow leaf on the water,
You can trust the flow of the night to carry you.
You have done enough today.
The day is complete,
And you are permitted to leave it behind.
Every breath is like a bridge.
With every exhale,
You move further away from doing,
And deeper into being.
Every breath is your bridge to peaceful calm.
The bed is steady beneath you.
The room is quiet.
And you are supported.
Your mind is resting.
While your body sleeps,
Your inner mind can organize,
Heal,
And find clarity all on its own.
Peace is your natural state.
Just like the still pool at the BX Creek,
The stillness is always there within you,
Just beneath the surface.
You are exactly where you need to be.
There is nothing to solve.
Nothing to change.
Only this moment of rest.
Tomorrow will wait.
The morning is a distant shore.
Now you are simply safely drifting in the quiet security of the night.
You are worthy of this rest.
You deserve this time of quiet.
You deserve this deep,
Restorative sleep.
Sound asleep.
