Hello my friend.
Welcome to your sleep story.
My name is Stephen Dalton.
I'm an Irish storyteller and it's my great privilege to be the voice that you listen to as you go to sleep tonight.
Now a lot of you often say to me that you could listen to me reading the phone book,
Which is a very nice compliment of course.
But it got me thinking about how it's sometimes nice just to hear really simple,
Almost mundane things.
And I started to develop a character in my head.
She's a sweet lady called Hope,
And she has a very simple,
Very content,
And pretty quiet life.
So welcome tonight to the world of Hope.
Okay,
Let's do the relaxation session,
Which will take a few minutes before tonight's sleep story.
I'm going to count down from ten to one,
And as I do,
Allow yourself to let go more and more.
Feeling the support beneath you now,
Of the bed,
Or the floor,
Or the earth beneath that.
Feel that constantness of the earth,
Our home.
Feel the peace that it offers you.
Remember,
You are safe.
My voice will only take you to safe places.
Allow my voice to be an anchor of safety tonight,
As you move closer and closer to sleep.
The day is done.
Whatever has been,
Has been.
Whatever will be,
Will be.
Allow yourself to really be in this moment.
If thoughts arrive,
Just welcome them.
Don't fight them.
See them for what they are.
Just thoughts,
And then let them float away.
Seven.
Feel into your body now.
Notice any tension.
Anywhere you still might be holding.
It's time to let go now.
Maybe you're holding in your hands.
In your feet.
Maybe in your face.
Just release now.
Six.
This is your moment.
You have nowhere to be.
Nothing to do.
Nowhere to go.
You deserve this moment.
You deserve rest.
Allow that fact bring about more peace now.
Breathe into that knowledge.
Witness the peace within you.
It's always there.
Peace lives in you.
All of the time.
It's just waiting to be seen.
Feel that peace now.
Perhaps allow a little gratitude now.
For this moment.
For the simple things.
The safety.
The shelter you have.
The ability to just lie here and listen to my voice.
Three.
Tune into your body again.
Are you holding anywhere still?
Really let go now.
Maybe you're holding in your belly.
In your chest.
Two.
Begin to engage with your imagination.
Begin to see a very simple log cabin in a letting go now.
As I tell you tonight's sleep story.
Welcome to Hope's World.
The world of hope.
Now you might think that by my using such grand phrases as the world of hope that I am about to introduce you to a very exciting world.
No.
This is a world where not a lot happens.
So let's meet Hope.
How would you describe Hope?
She kind of looks like most people I suppose.
She's,
Well,
She's hope.
Hope is kind.
Hope is sweet.
Hope is humble.
And Hope,
Today,
Is doing nothing.
In fact,
Hope is an expert at doing nothing.
It's not that she's unhappy.
In fact,
She's a very content soul.
It's just that Hope doesn't have to do much.
So she chooses to do nothing in this moment.
It's raining outside.
And at the moment,
Hope is sitting on the couch.
She listens to the rain.
She likes the sound of the rain.
It reminds her of childhood.
She breathes in and noticing her breath.
She feels very grateful for all she has.
She lives a simple life.
And that's okay.
She has all she needs.
And she doesn't want for much.
She lives in a beautiful log cabin.
A lot of which she built herself.
Far from most things.
And she likes this isolation.
She doesn't feel isolated anyway.
She has friends.
And they come by from time to time.
And besides her human friends,
The trees are her friends.
And the deer.
And her dog,
Fred.
And her cat,
Melissa.
Then,
Hope decides to take a walk in the rain.
She stands up and walks to get her raincoat.
She likes this raincoat.
She's had it for about 50 years.
She puts it on and steps out into the rain.
She breathes in the smells.
It's beautiful here,
She thinks to herself.
She likes the sound of the rain against her coat.
And she likes how the rain makes the leaves in her yard look a bit shinier.
When I say yard,
I mean forest.
She starts to walk.
Fred by her side.
And he seems to like the rain too.
He follows behind her,
His tail wagging happily.
Melissa,
The cat,
On the other hand,
Watches them from the window,
Preferring to stay dry.
Hope takes in the simple beauty of her surroundings.
The raindrops make soft tapping sounds as they hit the leaves and the ground.
She walks down a familiar path,
Through the trees,
Feeling her feet moving through the wet ground.
There's no rush.
No place she needs to be.
No appearances to keep up.
She just walks,
With Fred the dog,
Occasionally running ahead,
And then waiting for her to catch up.
The trees around her cabin are tall and sturdy.
And Hope knows them well.
She watches them,
Day by day.
Sometimes,
Hour by hour,
Change with the seasons,
Year after year.
She loves how she knows this place so well.
She feels so safe here.
Always.
And she closes her eyes.
And she takes a deep breath,
Realizing in this moment that she is alive on planet Earth,
And is blessed to be alive.
And then she continues walking,
With her good friend Fred.
And then,
At one particular point,
For no reason other than the fact she feels like it,
She turns around and walks back towards her cabin.
And as she walks,
She feels content.
Her life might seem uneventful to others,
But for Hope,
It's just right.
She has her cabin,
Her pets,
And the quiet beauty of nature around her.
That's all she really needs.
And then,
Out of nowhere,
A big smile appears on her face.
Just because.
And now,
She opens the door of her cabin,
And heads back inside.
Ready to enjoy the rest of her day,
Doing whatever she feels like.
Or perhaps,
Doing nothing at all.
Hope shakes off the last remnants of the rain,
And Fred follows close behind.
The cabin is warm and welcoming,
And it's a stark contrast to the cool,
Moist air outside.
Hope closes the door behind her,
And she takes a moment to relish the quiet,
Cozy atmosphere of her home.
She hangs her raincoat on a wooden peg by the door.
A peg she installed herself,
Some years back.
It's nothing fancy.
Just a simple piece of wood,
But it does the job.
She then grabs a towel from the rack,
And gives her hair a quick rub,
Drying off the droplets of rain.
With Fred now lying down by the fireplace,
Hope decides to light the fire,
To keep her and the animals warm.
She gathers some bits of paper,
And some small pieces of dried out wood,
And places them in the fireplace.
Then places some larger pieces of wood,
Above the small dried out pieces of wood.
And she lights the paper,
And the fire starts to crackle,
And she starts to feel the warmth,
And so does Fred,
And so does Melissa the cat.
And they,
All three,
Are happy and at peace.
Now Hope decides to make a cup of tea.
She goes to the kitchen,
And she fills a kettle with water from the tap.
The sound of the water,
A familiar,
Comforting gurgle.
She doesn't measure the water,
Just fills it up about halfway,
Just enough for a cup or two.
The kettle,
An old,
Trusty thing,
With a few dents and scratches from years of use,
Goes onto the stove.
She turns the knob on the stove,
And with a small whoosh,
The flame comes to life,
Blue and steady.
Hope picks out her favorite mug,
A plain white one,
With no decorations or fancy designs,
And places a teabag in it.
Just a regular black tea,
Nothing exotic.
She's not much for flavored teas,
She likes to keep things simple.
As the water heats up,
Hope leans against the counter,
Listening to the kettle.
It starts with a low hum,
Gradually building up to a soft,
Whistling sound.
It's a familiar routine,
One that Hope finds comforting in its simplicity.
Then she lifts the kettle off the stove,
And pours the steaming water into the mug.
As the tea begins to steep,
Turning the water a rich,
Dark color,
The steam rises in gentle swirls,
Carrying with it the robust aroma of the tea.
Hope waits a moment,
Before finally taking her first sip,
A small pleasure in her simple,
Contented life.
As she stands there,
Drinking her tea,
A thought arrives that she decides to follow.
The thought that she would like to drool.
She walks towards her study,
A snug room nestled at the corner of her cabin.
The study,
Though small,
Is a comforting space,
Filled with items that reflect Hope's simple life.
A solid,
Well-worn desk,
A chair that's been perfectly broken in over the years,
And shelves lined with an assortment of books and mementos,
Some from when she used to travel a lot.
She rummages through a drawer,
Retrieving her basic but beloved drawing set.
A collection of graphite pencils of varying hardness,
A reliable sharpener,
A well-used eraser,
And her cherished sketchpad.
The sketchpad contains a visual diary of Hope's life,
And her surroundings.
Settling into her chair,
Hope flips open the sketchpad to a blank page.
For a moment,
She gazes out of the window,
Watching the rain still gently cascading down,
Creating a rhythmic patter against the glass.
A natural lullaby for her artistic endeavour.
The scene outside,
Though familiar,
Holds a unique charm under the veil of rain.
The way droplets cling to the leaves,
The subtle dance of branches under the weight of the water,
And the soft,
Muted colors of the forest.
She begins to sketch.
Her pencil lightly caresses the paper,
Tracing the outlines of the trees outside as they sway subtly under the shower.
She loves drawing what she sees through the window.
It's meditative for her.
The soft scratching of the pencil on the paper harmonizes with the rain's patter.
Time is irrelevant here.
Time doesn't exist.
Time stands still as Hope immerses herself in her drawing.
She is deeply focused now,
And at the same time,
Deeply relaxed.
She breathes in and out,
Enjoying every second of this time.
Gradually,
The shape of the sketch begins to become clear,
An ode to the rainy day,
Capturing the essence of the moment.
And when Hope finally sets her pencil down,
The room has dimmed,
The evening rain casting a soft,
Grey light.
She leans back,
Her eyes lingering on her creation,
A serene depiction of the view that has given her so much peace.
Content with her drawing session,
Hope decides to return to her beloved sofa,
The centerpiece of her simple,
Cozy living room.
The sofa,
Well-worn and comfortable,
Is Hope's favorite spot in the cabin.
It's where she does her best thinking,
Or sometimes,
Her best not thinking.
Just sitting and letting her mind wander freely,
She settles into the sofa,
Sinking into the familiar,
Comfortable cushions.
Outside,
The rain continues its gentle melody.
Hope closes her eyes for a moment,
Listening to the rain,
Feeling the peace of her cabin,
The warmth of the room enveloping her.
In these moments of stillness,
Hope allows thoughts to drift in and out of her mind,
Without purpose or direction.
Sometimes,
She thinks about small projects she might undertake around the cabin.
Other times,
She reminisces about past visits from friends,
The laughter and stories shared.
Often,
She finds herself thinking about nothing in particular,
Just enjoying the sense of calm that washes over her.
As she sits there,
She feels a profound sense of gratitude.
Hope's life,
Though uneventful by most standards,
Is rich in ways that matter to her.
She appreciates the solitude,
The connection to nature,
The joy of simple pleasures like a cup of tea,
A walk in the rain,
Or the act of creating something with her hands.
Her life is uncomplicated,
Yes,
But it's also deeply fulfilling.
After spending a considerable amount of time doing nothing again,
Hope glances out of the window and notices that night has fallen.
The world outside her cozy cabin is shrouded in darkness,
But she,
As always,
Feels so safe.
She decides to call it a day,
And Hope begins her nightly routine.
She starts by tidying up the living room,
A habit ingrained in her over the years.
She fluffs the cushions on the sofa,
Folds the blanket she'd used earlier,
And places it neatly on the back of the sofa.
Satisfied with the orderliness,
She makes her way to the bathroom.
Inside,
The bathroom is as unpretentious as the rest of the cabin.
Hope reaches for her toothbrush,
An old but well-maintained one,
And squeezes a pea-sized amount of toothpaste onto it.
She methodically brushes her teeth,
Counting out the strokes as she was taught by her mother when she was young.
After rinsing her mouth,
She splashes her face with cold water,
A refreshing end to her simple bathroom routine.
Next,
Hope changes into her sleepwear,
A cozy old nightie and a dressing gown,
And slippers,
Of course.
She makes her way back to the living room,
Turning off lights as she goes.
By her favorite chair,
A small bookshelf holds a collection of well-read books.
She picks one out,
A novel she's been reading little by little each night.
It's a simple story,
Much like her own life,
But it's engaging and comforting in its familiarity.
Settling into her chair,
Hope reads by the light of a small lamp.
The words on the page capture her attention,
Allowing her to slowly unwind from the day.
Usually so content to wonder,
Hope focuses on the story,
Following the gentle narrative.
After about half an hour of reading,
Her eyes begin to feel heavy,
A sure sign that sleep is not far away.
Closing the book,
She places it back on the shelf and stands up to turn off the lamp.
Hope goes to her bedroom,
Bringing Fred the dog and her little cat Melissa with her.
Feeling a sense of peace,
Accompanied by her constant companions.
Once in bed,
She takes a moment to listen to the remnants of the rain.
It's a peaceful end to a simple day,
And with a contented sigh,
Hope closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.
The quiet of her world,
A perfect lullaby.
