Beyond The Forest Of Twisted Trees | Fantasy Sleep Story

Get sleepy and relax with tonight's fantasy bedtime story for grownups,

Inspired by a beloved nursery rhyme.

You're listening to Beyond the Forest of Twisted Trees.

In this cozy sleep story,

You travel through time and space,

Beyond the forest of twisted trees,

Where trunks and branches twist like licorice sticks.

Led by the soothing sounds of the mystical forest,

You encounter Jacob,

A kind keeper of the woods,

Who leads you to the old woman who lives in a shoe.

An ethereal and maternal soul,

She invites you to stay for the night in the multi-storied boot home.

Tend to your inner child as you fall asleep in this cozy,

Albeit unique,

Dwelling,

As fireflies dance above the flowing hills of wildflowers and stars twinkle in a velvety sky.

Find a safe place to get comfortable and let go.

It's time to dream away.

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

My name is Michelle.

As you listen,

You may think of me as a maternal guide,

And as the encouraging voice that will help you take the best care of yourself at bedtime.

As you self-soothe and feel safe,

Your thinking mind may give way to a boundless imagination.

This delicate time before sleep is your playground to set the tone for the night to come.

Customize every part of this experience to embody what makes you feel better.

And let go of my voice,

And drift to sleep whenever you desire.

As we embark on this fantastical voyage,

Allow for a theatrical sigh.

And as you exhale,

Imagine your breath carries out all concerns and anxieties.

Visualize them as sparks of glitter that dissipate into the night air.

When your lungs have emptied,

Sip in slowly through your nose,

Savoring this experience.

Imagine the air smells like a damp forest,

With the aromas of sweet rich earth and pine trees.

If you feel like yawning at the top of your breath,

Go ahead.

You can yawn as many times as you want.

And in this place and time,

I will celebrate you for doing so.

Exhale in a sigh,

Letting everything go.

And then at a pace that is right for you,

Continue this pattern of breathing.

It becomes easier each time as you inhale,

Maybe yawn,

And then sigh.

With the intake of clean,

Fresh air,

Every molecule of oxygen travels to the cells in your body,

Bringing good news like a messenger.

Imagine your cells are like little villagers,

Nestled within their forest cottages as they fall asleep.

As you inhale,

Perhaps yawn and sigh,

Sinking into your bed with the confidence that you have done all you need to do,

And you are doing all you need to do right now,

To ensure the most restful,

Comforting night ahead.

One more time,

Indulge yourself in the sensory experiences of connecting with your breath on a dreamy night.

Return your breath to normal when you are ready.

And in this enhanced state of serenity,

It's time for the story to begin.

Tonight's sleepy tale celebrates the moment when two mythical figures came together and show that even in the most worrisome moments in time,

Kind hearts prevail.

For centuries,

Children have been told the nursery rhyme about the old woman in the shoe.

If the popular passage escapes your memory for a moment,

Let me remind you.

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.

She had so many children,

She didn't know what to do.

She gave them some broth with plenty of bread.

She kissed them all fondly and sent them to bed.

You may have never taken the story much beyond its face value,

But there are some things to be considered.

Like every story,

There's a bit of truth.

Sure,

The woman in the shoe was an overwhelmed single mom,

Doing her best to tend to the needs of nine rambunctious young tykes.

And yes,

After years of wandering,

She had the great luck of discovering an inhabitable shoe that would house her large family.

But there is much more to that story.

Overlooked by the sing-song tale in medieval days,

The old woman wasn't all that old,

Certainly not when she shared the boot home with her progeny.

She was far from the type of crone that was depicted for centuries.

But oftentimes in history,

The women who are capable in performing above and beyond are depicted quite unflatteringly.

But we'll get back to that later.

You may also remember the story of Jacob,

A kind giant who was an outlier in a medieval village and escaped to a magical world of his design in the forest of twisted trees.

He created his own village of intricate tree cottages and houses in the sky,

Connected by rope bridges and winding staircases.

Jacob had an innate ability to nurture gardens in unexpected places,

Always respecting the woods.

With dreams and plans well ahead of the times,

His designs provided an abundance of food that grew throughout the forest.

Jacob had a generous heart,

With far more to give than anyone would accept,

Because he was unlike them.

His former neighbors in the village could be in dire straits and would turn down his gifts starved by their venom.

As gigantic as Jacob's presence was,

His heart was even more so.

One day the villagers came together in jest and created a boot the size of a three-story home,

Even grander than any of the stone cottages in their ancient village.

They gathered scraps of leather and cut down trees to make a wooden sole.

It would have been beneficial for everyone if they had come together to harvest food or use their resources to enhance the town.

But they preferred to be spiteful and mock the gentle giant one early morning when the shoe was completed.

The shoe was meant to be a mocking reminder that the forest was the land for this giant.

A team of twenty of the strongest villagers and their twenty horses struggled to deliver the boot to the edge of the forest of twisted trees in the morning mist.

They laughed ruefully along the way,

Hoping anyone to come by would beware of the unloved giant.

But nothing seems to unite certain people more than spite.

And the villagers were not exempt from this.

When faced with a fear that comes with encountering something different,

There's always the option to choose to make the unknown familiar or to rally against it in fear.

The villagers chose the latter,

Bound together by the mockery of the gentle giant.

Now Jacob was in stature,

Much larger than any soul to have graced the planet at that time in history.

But even with this in mind,

He was not large enough to dream of filling that boot.

He heard the echoing songs and laughter of the villagers while tending to his gardens atop the trees that morning.

He stopped what he was doing,

And curiously followed the clamorous noise.

As he walked the familiar twisting path to the village,

He came upon a gaggle of young children dressed in threadbare clothes foraging in the forest.

His shadow loomed over them,

Backlit by the rising sun,

And created quite a frenzy among them.

The children's eyes followed the shadow and then looked up in terror and ran from him,

Crying for their mother.

She walked toward Jacob with an ethereal grace,

But for a moment took his breath away.

The silky fabric of her skirt sparkled in the early light,

Wafting on the air like gossamer.

She calmed the children and told them to take deep breaths,

Fearing their imagination got the best of them.

They listened to her,

Always soothed by her dulcet voice and understated wisdom.

From experience,

The children knew their mother was often prescient and foresaw things happening that they could not.

Jacob slipped behind a tree,

Listening to the woman remark how even if someone is different from them,

It was important to discover what was in their heart and learn their story.

After hearing her words,

Jacob stepped out from behind the tree and the woman introduced herself,

Extending her small hand.

His voice cracked,

For it had been so long since he had spoken to another soul.

His name came out in a timid whisper.

The children laughed with relief,

For no giant is so scary with a voice like that.

They approached him with curtsies and hellos.

Their mother told them to go off and search for berries,

So she could chat with their new friend.

Right away,

Jacob sensed the woman was kind and understanding,

And the first person in a long time to give Jacob a feeling that he mattered.

Together they leisurely walked to the edge of the forest,

Getting to know one another.

The woman was quite tired herself,

For taking after nine children on her own had been daunting.

They were a nomadic family,

Finding shelter where they could.

Longing for a place to call home.

She desperately needed a new friend,

And Jacob arrived just in time.

As Jacob approached the edge of the woods,

He saw the oversized boot and his face became flush with embarrassment.

The woman's children were enthralled,

Balancing on the edge of the sole as if walking a tightrope.

They were having fun in a way that all children should.

She had not heard the laughter of her children in some time,

And a pure bliss in their voices elevated her spirits.

Witnessing the children gave Jacob an idea.

He invited them to stay in the forest of twisted trees,

Preparing meals from his forest gardens.

The children ran across the rope bridges and explored the many tree houses and spherical cottages in the sky.

At nightfall,

The children piled atop one another in Jacob's bed.

As he and the woman enjoyed a nightcap by the fire,

He said he had something that would keep him busy for two days.

But they were welcome to stay until he returned.

The woman and her young crew reveled in the comforts of a home.

So tired from years on the go,

They slept and dreamed most of the time Jacob was absent.

When he returned,

He excitedly told them to follow him to the other side of the forest,

Where a surprise awaited.

In the rich,

Saturated light of sunset,

He led the humble family to a clearing in the center of the twisted trees.

Wildflowers blanketed the rolling hills beneath bands of pinks,

Purples,

And fiery orange that lit up the sky.

The ethereal golden light created an aura around the boot,

Now situated on the highest knoll overlooking the rolling hills and woods.

The boot was transformed into a magnificent dwelling,

With three stories of hidden nooks and cozy rooms.

Stories were scattered around the circumference of the home,

And this special boot became a place where the woman raised her children,

And remained long after they left to start their own lives.

Even in their absence,

She found comfort in the quietude of the forest.

The kind of comfort she had earned and deserved.

And the layers of fond memories of raising her children gave her a constant feeling of connection and joy while they were away.

She also found joy and deep gratitude for her friendship with Jacob.

At a time when you need tranquility as much as the woman in the shoe,

And you long for a sense of safety and belonging as much as Jacob,

You find yourself traipsing through the majestic forest of twisted trees.

Hypnotic purple and blue-tinged shadows dance across the mushroom-dappled floor.

The whimsical trunks and branches curl and twist through the woods.

The bark in a gradient of gray hues,

With a cast of lavender and periwinkle.

You find yourself in another time.

The white noise and constant hum of the planet is quieter,

Softer,

And somehow more inviting to explore.

Your feet land on a carpet of decaying leaves and rust-orange-hued pine needles that scatter the earth.

Everything within the forest of twisted trees has a chance to transform itself,

Again and again,

Feeding into a vibrant ecosystem where everything at every stage of life has a purpose.

But as you roam on a winding path,

Beneath the canopy of lush leaves and hardy needles,

A childlike curiosity takes hold on your walkabout.

Magic lurks in the shadows and the glistening backs of spotted salamanders.

In the low-lying mist so faint at times,

It only reveals itself in the filtered light of late afternoon.

Your intuition is intact,

Stirred,

And brought back to life so far away from electronic reminders and the pressure of having all the world's knowledge kept in a device in the palm of your hand.

A part of you remembers being here before,

Transported by a story or dream or even a memory.

The familiarity matters more than whether it happened in reality or fantasy.

The forest is here to remind you,

As it reveals its secrets through stories sung,

To the sounds of rustling leaves,

And the melody of a babbling stream that flows through shadows like a silvery blue ribbon trying to find its way back home.

You notice the bottom of his cloak wafting on the early evening breeze,

Long before your eyes wander high enough to see the silhouette of his broad shoulders.

Jacob senses your presence,

And turns around slowly,

Cinematically,

With a confidence he would have never developed had he not escaped the scrutiny of the village.

He welcomes you with twinkling eyes and a kind smile.

There's someone I'd like you to meet,

He says,

And so you follow him through the twisted trees as the cool arrival of night takes hold.

He leads you through a part of the forest where crystals such as aquamarine,

Amethyst,

Ruby,

Rose quartz,

And yellow topaz dangle from the twisting branches.

Jacob guides you deeper into the woods,

Past the ancient healing tree,

And then on a path that is quite unfamiliar.

He leads you to a clearing as a nearly full moon rises.

Rolling fields of wildflowers lead to mighty oak trees.

A silvery lunar aura forms in the mist above the dewy blades of emerald grass.

Fireflies dance in the air,

Their gentle glow illuminating the meadows like flickering stars.

Atop the tallest knoll,

You take in the grandeur of the largest boot you have ever seen,

Fashioned into a charming home.

The brown dwelling has as many windows as islets that look out onto the woods and countryside.

Ribbon candles sit in every window.

Their amber flames flicker and reflect on the glass panes.

The thick braided laces,

Created out of rope by vindictive townspeople in jest,

Support beds of bright pink begonias and lush cascades of blue-purple morning glories.

The leather exterior bears the marks of weather and time,

And the occasional playful accident from one of the nine children who grew up in this shoe.

The not-so-old woman steps out of the cathedral doors,

Adorned with stained glass depictions of the stream that weaves through the woods and into the clearing.

Per usual,

She anticipates Jacob's unannounced arrival,

With her special gift of seeing the future.

She created the art on the door as the stream is a connection that honors the connection she has to Jacob.

Her long,

Wavy,

Platinum hair dips below her waist,

And she wears a velvet and silk frock that makes her seem taller than she stands.

She is actually quite petite,

And it's hard to imagine her body carrying nine babies in her womb,

Or her small arms balancing them,

As they grew and overwhelmed her.

Her timeless beauty radiates with mystical grace.

The lines on her face tell of her sorrow and joy.

But her aura of peace distracts from the furrow in her brow,

And gives her a vibrant energy.

A small white cat meows by her side,

As if inquiring if you are to be welcomed or ignored.

Whatever guard Jacob may put up at times,

Purely out of habit,

It all melts away in the presence of this woman.

I'd like you to meet my dear friend,

Alicia.

She welcomes you with a warm embrace,

Her maternal energy radiating to your core.

You're welcome to spend the night.

You look like you could use some rest.

Jacob winks and says goodnight,

Leaving you with Alicia in the boot.

You follow her into the unique home,

And every nook and cranny tells a story or two.

Long after her children left,

Alicia began to focus on art.

From embroidery to candle making,

The foyer and main room showcase her colorful pieces and nature-inspired creations.

A fire roars in the hearth.

The orange-gold flames cast the room in warm light as they lick the soot-stained walls.

The white cat settles by the fire,

And you notice a few other cats sleeping in the room,

Purring at the sound of Alicia's return.

The dining table is decorated with handmade vases containing fresh summer flowers.

Their sweet perfume marries the smells of burning wood and aged leather,

Creating a unique smell that awakens comforting memories.

Handmade flowers are placed throughout built-in shelves,

Among books and essential oils,

Created by the not-so-old woman.

Crocheted blankets and hand-stitched quilts drape over wooden chairs and trunks containing mementos of her children.

She shows you her candle-making corner,

Near a bow window that overlooks the forest of twisted trees.

She says the trees give her inspiration.

With enough ribbon candles to fill a shop,

The ornate designs feature a myriad of rainbow hues and gradients of color.

The sculpted wax bows away from the pillar candles to emulate waterfalls and bridges.

She asks you to select one.

You peruse the rows of beautiful wax masterpieces.

And find the one that features your favorite colors.

Once you do,

She lights it and asks you to follow her.

You ascend a spiral staircase made of knotty wood,

Feeling the steps creak beneath your feet.

Led by candlelight,

The hot wax imparts a soothing blend of lavender and mint.

As you ascend,

You connect with the energy of her children when they were younger,

Lingering in echoes of laughter that reverberate through all the hidden spaces where children once played.

You wind up the stairs to the second floor that leads to five bedrooms in a round.

Every turn seems to confirm that this home was abundant with love and a sense of adventure.

Alicia guides you to the third floor,

Her most treasured lookout spot.

Her room takes up one half of the top floor,

While the guest suite takes up the other.

She leads you into your room as candlelight illuminates the rich and soothing blues and greens that decorate the suite.

She shows you a balcony overlooking the moon and stars,

And expresses there were many nights of wandering where she wished on the stars for guidance.

Never certain of what life would bring,

She held out hope and remained open.

In the end,

Life bestowed more upon her than she could have ever dreamed of.

You peer out onto the great view of the forest and stream that weaves its way through.

Fireflies dart and dash below,

Leaving trails of illumination where they're twinkling and dancing,

Painting the dark space with pops of chartreuse.

Above the fields,

The night sky unveils a tapestry of countless stars as you bask in the glow of the moon.

The forest of twisted trees encircles the firefly fields,

Its branches intertwining like the pages of a storybook,

Weaving tales of ancient magic and mysticism.

The trees themselves seem to breathe with life as they surrender to the night breeze and sway.

Their leaves shimmer with hues of emerald and amethyst,

Bathed in the moon's gentle illumination.

The gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of begonias and morning glory that trail down the laces on the top of the boot and wind around the balconies.

The serenade of crickets and nightingales fills the atmosphere,

Their melodies harmonizing with the symphony of nature.

This summer night,

Somewhere long ago and far away,

Becomes like a sacred dream.

A moment frozen in time,

Where reality and enchantment become one.

Feeling the gentle caress of the cool breeze against your skin,

You close your eyes as a tender smile forms on your face.

Elysia expresses that she has come up here every night,

Long before her children grew up and moved away,

To give thanks to Jacob and all the things in life that led her here.

It's one of the most unique nights you have ever had.

And so you give thanks for all that has brought you here as well.

Elysia sees how tired you are and brings you back into the room.

She has arranged bedclothes at the end of the bed and pulls back the heavy quilt and fluffs the pillows.

She then walks to you and places her soft,

Tiny fingers on your temples.

She massages them with a barely there touch,

Yet it soothes you to the bone.

She then brushes her hands across your forehead and around the outline of your face.

Sleep well,

My child.

I'm just across the hall if you need anything.

She says and then gives you a hug and then leaves you for a night of deep rest.

And in this moment,

You feel the kind of mothering you sometimes forget you still need.

Every now and then,

When the world overwhelms you and you just wish to have someone as concerned with your needs as anyone could ever be,

The magic of her presence awakens the part of you that is always readily available to mother and soothe the parts of you that need it most.

You change into the bedclothes and then nestle into the cotton sheets,

Both as soft as the moonbeam's touch that illuminates the room in dreamy,

Opal light.

Your eyelids grow heavy and you succumb to the lullaby of the night.

Every part of your body settles into the mattress in perfect alignment.

From head to toe,

Your nerve endings softly tingle from the nurturing love you've experienced on this night.

You become an observer and see yourself in this enchanted place from the outside looking in.

You recognize the beauty and softness in your tranquil face and the vitality that flows through your body.

You drift between worlds,

A little bit here and a little bit somewhere else.

What somewhere else promises more peace and repose?

It tugs at you gently,

Nudging you towards a night of deep,

Healing sleep.

And just as you trust yourself on this journey,

You trust the embrace of sleep as it envelops you.

Finding bliss,

Finding peace,

Finding joy,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.