Mindfulness Bedtime Story: The Perfect Painter

Mindful Bedtime Stories Written and narrated by Laurie Westbury Welcome to our mindful bedtime story.

Before we begin,

Take a moment to make sure you are nice and comfortable.

Dim the lights,

Adjust your pillow,

And curl up in your blankets just how you like them.

While you are enjoying this story,

Know it's okay to peacefully drift off to sleep.

Wishing you a very restful night,

Sweet dreams.

The Perfect Painter As my eyes begin to open,

I can already feel a sense of excitement for my day ahead.

Today is going to be all about me.

I grabbed the corner of my window shade and peeked out to make sure the weather was going to collaborate with me.

Although I have lived in the same home for over 30 years,

I never find myself becoming tired of the view from my bedroom window.

I woke up at the perfect time.

The sun was just deciding to make its appearance,

As if we had planned it that way.

I moved my gaze across the water and to the tops of the trees.

I wanted to get an idea of how much wind I was going to be dealing with today on my adventure.

I always seem to use one tree in particular for this job.

It managed to grow just a little bit higher than the rest of the trees surrounding it,

So I knew it would give me the most accurate reading.

I felt delighted that the trees were almost not moving at all.

It was going to be nice and still out today.

As I came downstairs,

I heard the familiar sound of my two large dogs waiting for me by the back door.

Every morning they looked forward to those first few moments outside.

Myla's paws would hit the ground so fast it looked as if she was ready to run a marathon.

Lola,

Our much older dog,

Took her time doing everything.

By the time Myla was at the edge of the yard,

Lola was just taking her first steps outside.

Today,

Both dogs were going to spend some time with my friend who lived close by.

She loved when they came to visit and always had a big meal waiting for them,

Cooked lovingly from her crockpot.

Before I went to sleep last evening,

I made sure the house was in order and had prepared some overnight oats to enjoy before heading outside today.

I loved adding fresh fruit on top like blueberries and bananas.

I grabbed my favorite wooden spoon and filled my belly.

Leaning next to my table was a crisp white canvas and a backpack filled with supplies.

I grabbed my warmer jacket,

A bottle of cold water,

And locked the door behind me.

I planned on making the most out of my day today.

I wanted to really slow things down,

To let go of anything else I was supposed to be doing and open myself up to being inspired.

It has only been spring for a few weeks,

But I could already smell those familiar scents of warmer days.

A neighbor had recently cut their grass,

And I could hear the birds playing their morning songs.

I didn't have to go far to be surrounded by nature,

Just a few feet in fact.

Just outside of my home was a worn path created years ago when I was little.

Many friends and family members helped by walking the path and wearing it down.

I had to duck down a little as a group of spruce trees decided to grow right around the entrance.

As I started down the path,

A large rock caught my attention.

I remembered we used to sit joyfully on top of this rock,

Pretending it was a beautiful black horse that could take us anywhere we wanted to go.

In honor of taking my time today,

I decided to spend a few moments with this rock.

I took my hand and ran it along the smooth surface.

I imagined how long this rock must have been here for.

Amazingly enough,

It was just as big as I remembered it.

The only real change was the new growth of moss and ferns that seemed to be delicately placed around it.

After one last touch of the rock's smooth surface,

I decided to carry along the path.

Soon I was greeted by the familiar sound of a nearby stream.

I knew I still had a little ways to go before I reached the water,

Which made me entranced by how quiet it was.

I was far enough along the path that any faint rumblings of caras couldn't be heard and instead it was replaced by the gentle sound of my shoes on top of crushed leaves.

As I reached the water,

I was surprised by how wide the little stream had grown.

In years past,

Only a small stream of water passed through.

This year it resembled a vibrant steady flow of water,

Upgrading it to a large pond on the far end.

As I soon discovered,

The pond was teeming with life.

Small skeeter bugs skimmed the top of the water while frogs relaxed in the sun.

Large sacks of tadpole eggs laid just below the surface,

Waiting for their turn at life.

There is something about water that is so calming and cleansing.

As I noticed my reflection in the water,

A beautiful clear stone caught my eye.

I leaned over a little further and dipped my fingers just far enough in the water to reach it.

The water was surprisingly cooler than I expected.

The stone fit easily into the palm of my hand.

It was a beautiful light gray filled with millions of tiny sparkles.

As I inspected the stone more clearly,

I noticed a vibrant purple color on the bottom.

I knew this stone caught my attention for a reason,

So I dried it off and placed it in my pocket.

I had a small glass jar in my living room filled with special items that seemed to jump out at me while I was in nature.

A few weeks ago,

While hiking with a friend,

I found my very first bald eagle feather.

It was just sitting there in the center of the path,

As if it had just fallen a few moments before I arrived.

I now used it anytime I wanted to smudge my home with sage.

I had to venture a little further down the stream before I could cross.

Finally,

I found a large stepping stone just in the perfect spot.

I remembered to wear my waterproof hiking shoes,

And they came in handy as my toes quietly grazed the water.

Today,

I want it to be inspired.

It had been a few years since a paintbrush was in my hands.

For me,

I had to feel the urge to paint deep within.

It was never something I did just because.

Last year,

I was gifted an antique set of paintbrushes that belonged to my aunt.

Each brush was carefully set inside a worn leather case that had just added to their charm.

Anytime I handled the brushes,

My mind wondered what masterpiece they had been connected with.

The tips of the brushes were delicately made with horsehair,

Which curled out along the edges due to being well used.

As I continued along,

I came across a clearing.

A small open field that seemed to be out of place in the dense forest.

The sun was able to reach right down to the grass,

As the trees,

For whatever reason,

Decided not to grow there.

As I moved forward,

I could feel the air was much warmer here.

I took a moment to gently close my eyes and let the warm sun rays beat down on my face.

I inhaled them in.

I allowed my breath to slow right down.

I followed it down into my lungs,

Experiencing the space in between my breath,

And then followed it back up again.

Soon I felt that ever familiar sensation,

That deeper connection you can feel when things really slow down.

I let myself just be here for a few minutes,

Connected.

Soon I felt my awareness shift to all the sounds in nature,

The present moment that was happening right now,

All around me.

The birds were slightly singing,

And I realized there was nowhere else I needed to be,

Nothing else I needed to be doing.

After another moment passed,

I opened my eyes and felt it,

The inspiration.

I grabbed my canvas,

My paints and my brushes,

And stared forward.

I wanted to always remember this clearing,

This ray of sun in the middle of the shadowed forest.

I dipped my brush in a brilliant blue and touched it to the canvas.

As I began,

The sun and wind played along,

Moving a cloud so the sun could shine at its brightest.

Next,

Yellow,

Green,

And brown.

Painting is a series of small movements that together create something beautiful.

At first it seems almost messy,

But as time passes,

Everything comes together.

First minutes,

And then hours passed.

As I looked at this seemingly ordinary painting of a field,

I realized it was anything but.

I wondered how many dozens of insects and animals called this field home,

And how interesting it was the trees seemed to have made the decision not to grow in this one perfect spot.

I took another deep breath,

And I stepped back.

The painting was perfect.

The details were soft,

But the vibrant colors allowed the landscape to really draw you in.

I knew it was time to start heading back,

But not before I enjoyed my snack.

Today was about not rushing.

I reminded myself there was no place else I needed to be.

This time would also allow the paint to set before my walk back.

I grabbed my sandwich wrapped in cheesecloth and my cold water.

I allowed myself to really enjoy my snack,

Bite by bite.

I broke off a few pieces of crust and placed them around the field for the birds and mice that might be watching close by.

I rolled up my brushes,

Placed my cheesecloth back into the bag,

And took one last look to make sure I didn't leave anything behind.

It was as if no one had been there.

As I walked back,

I remembered to take my time.

I still had hours left to my day.

This realization allowed my shoulders to drop and to let go of any urgent tasks my mind was trying to remind me of.

I passed the stream and soon the large rock,

And I was home.

I stopped again for just a moment to really look at my home.

A feeling of gratitude washed over me.

My home wasn't huge or perfect,

But it was perfect for me.

As I unlocked my door,

I felt so much joy for the warm,

Welcoming air inside.

I remembered I already tidied up the evening before,

So there was nothing left for me to do except relax.

I found the perfect spot for my new painting above my fireplace.

Suddenly I remembered the small stone in my pocket and took the opportunity to inspect it one last time.

I wondered how many years the stone had been sitting in the stream.

I then placed the stone in the glass jar with my other gifts from Mother Nature.

I sat on my couch and took a few moments to also admire my new painting.

Before long,

My feet rose off the ground and I was laying peacefully on the couch.

Both of my dogs,

Myla and Lola,

Were fast asleep next to the window.

I was feeling so comfortable and completely nourished from my day.

I allowed my eyes to close.

I followed my breath and gently drifted off to sleep.

It was the perfect day.

Sweet dreams.