Chalet On The Lake: Guided Sleep Meditation & Bedtime Story

Fall asleep and relax deeply into tonight's bedtime story and guided sleep meditation.

You are listening to Chalet on a Lake and in this sleep story you will travel to a picturesque lakeside town in Vermont.

Just before a snowstorm rolls in,

You take a calming walk in the woods and visit the local general store to stock up for a period of hibernation.

As the snowfall begins,

You meander around an icy blue lake and relish the last moments outdoors before returning to your safe and cozy cottage.

Inside you enjoy a comforting meal and nestle by a wood stove with your beloved pet.

It's time to dream away.

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

I am Michelle and as you are listening,

You may think of my voice as that of your dear friend and trusted guide.

I am here to empower you and connect you to your abilities to self-soothe and to be the gardener of the thoughts in your mind.

If mounting thoughts keep you from sleep,

You may imagine they are weeds that you pluck from your mind and replace with beautiful images.

You are free to customize this story to your own needs and desires in the sanctuary of your room and the sanctuary of your mind.

And at any point,

You may let go of my voice and surrender to the night of healing sleep and peaceful dreams that awaits you.

You have earned this and you have made it through another day in your life.

Settle into bed and wiggle out any impressions of your day.

What's done is now behind you and you are tuning in to the blissful,

Calming present moment.

Surely there have been times in your life when you longed for the chance to return to your home and snuggle beneath your covers.

And now is your time to celebrate and feel gratitude for your bed and the four walls of your room where you are free of judgement from others and yourself.

Close your tired eyes and close out the world as you go deeper within.

Empty out your breath in a sigh and let go and then take in the deepest conscious breath you have taken today.

Your belly rises,

Your chest expands and your collar bones raise at the top of your breath.

Your inhalation turns into a delicious yawn.

You can yawn all you want right now.

It indicates to your body that it's time to fall asleep.

Sigh out your exhalation and feel it leave your body as you sink deeply into the comforts of your bed.

And then take in another breath and yawn if it suits you before you let it all go.

As you exhale,

You imagine you are walking on a snowy path through the woods of a lakeside village in Vermont.

You see your breath condense on the frigid air that smells of snow on the way.

This magical fragrance is caused when the chill in the air slows down the movement of molecules and mutes all other smells.

The clean metallic aroma brought in by the humidity is isolated.

The smell conjures a romantic excitement and reminds you of hunkering down and relishing the purity and brilliance that snow brings in the darkness of winter.

And when a fresh blanket of snow coats the landscape,

It absorbs sound and makes for a quieter world.

You listen to your feet land on the packed snow from earlier storms as you walk among barren and gnarly trees that were once full of green foliage and later a kaleidoscope of jewel tones at the height of autumn.

And now deep in the winter months,

You still find the occasional fallen burgundy leaf that is trapped in the snow like a fossil.

While the approaching snow makes the air smell clean,

You can still catch a hint of pine that carries on the chilly breeze and the smell of wood smoke from nearby villages.

But for the occasional winter ice festivals,

The village is sleepy this time of year and you often see more animals on your walks than humans.

You hear the soft patter of paws landing on frozen decayed leaves and look down the path to see a red fox.

You recognize this cunning animal and he recognizes you.

For many years you have left him food in the starkest and coldest months.

Your relationship thrives on mutual respect.

Each winter you look forward to crossing paths and look out for one another as if distant neighbors.

After acknowledging you,

The fox scurries and you continue on a shortcut to the general store.

The first flurries begin to fall.

You are grateful for the plush parka that has kept you warm against the harshest and coldest nights for several years.

You wear a hat with ear flaps knitted by a local older lady named Gloria who sells these unique hats at the annual holiday festival.

She knits hats throughout the year in preparation for selling out and even then can barely keep up with the demand.

The hat you now wear was custom made to fit you and knitted in your favorite colors.

You think of Gloria's delicate wrinkled hands that have been a source of love and nurturing for many people in this town.

And the personal touch warms your heart to know that someone cared enough to create this for you.

Up ahead you see the rusty brown cabin serving as the local general store since before you were born.

There is a carved wooden bear statue from which a sign hangs and reads General Store in bold print with the words maple syrup,

Local cheese,

And bait printed below it.

It always amuses you to read the odd array of featured goods that have somehow become Vermont's novelty items.

You walk up the shoveled path to the wooden porch that leads to the entrance.

You stomp your boots to clear any snow before ascending the stairs.

The shop is run by Martha and Ike,

A happily married couple of 60 years.

And the sounds of their comical bickering often becomes an attraction for locals and visitors alike.

You enter the store in a bell rings and even in her 80s Martha's hearing is as sharp as her wit.

She greets you by name and her eyes light up as she asks what you need to weather the storm.

While quaint,

The store carries everything from firewood to baking essentials to grocery items and snow boots as well as items made fresh by Martha and Ike.

The radio is playing softly in the background and a weather report issues a warning that the blizzard will last until tomorrow and to expect at least three feet of snow.

Martha sighs softly and her sigh carries the sound of a woman who has heard reports and dealt with storms like this for more times than she can recall.

You grab a few provisions,

A few candles in case the power goes out,

And some local cheddar cheese.

Martha recommends the homemade soup and rustic bread made early that morning.

All of the food items are specially made to your preferences.

Please anchor and bring your items to the antique register as Ike comes over to ring you up.

He looks to his wife proudly with the slightest hint of a smirk that reveals he is always thinking something off beat.

Being around them always gives you joy.

They are the kind of couple that exudes warmth and playfulness.

Their loving chemistry can be recognized from afar and from the shortest of interactions.

Ike packages your items in a brown paper bag and adds the purchases to your tab.

As a regular they send a monthly bill from the shop,

Always with a sweet handwritten card.

You wish them well and tightly rewrap your scarf around your neck and face.

The snow is falling more rapidly and the wind seems to have picked up.

They tell you to be safe and to call if you need anything.

You know you never would,

But you also know you could rely on them if it came to that.

This kind of small town charm warms your heart.

It makes you feel part of something bigger than yourself and that somehow you will always be taken care of.

You exit and hear the silver bell ring again,

Slightly muted by the sound of the creaky door as it shuts behind you.

You hear the sound of a sanding truck in the distance.

The shuffle of sand on pavement and hum of the engine is soothing and also a reminder that the storm is the real deal.

It gives you a flurry of excitement and your spine tingles.

In part from the anticipation and in part from the frigid temperature,

Your face begins to tingle as you make your way across the main road and towards the lake.

Ice skaters and cross country skiers take advantage of the frozen lake and a few glide across it before the storm arrives.

Sky like the cornflower blue ice is dappled with wisps of white snow that look like cirrus clouds.

The setting is serene and nature adds the perfect final touch with pristine snowflakes that magically fall from the lavender grey sky.

The perimeter of the lake is edged with evergreen trees that have a glistening layer of icy snow.

As the snow continues to fall and a few inches accumulate,

You notice the quietude setting in.

All the white noise of the world is softened by the fresh white crystalline coating.

And in the stillness,

You hear the patter of snowflakes landing on your hat and parka.

You hear your gentle breathing that becomes visible in small clouds.

The sky is getting darker and you shift the paper bag of goods to your hip,

Hugging it tightly against your body.

You walk on the pebbled beach where multicolored blue and tawny brown and sea foam green stones glisten like jewels beneath the iridescent patches of snow.

You balance on them confidently.

Thanks to the thick rubber soles of your winter boots,

You hear the soft hooting of an owl and pause for a moment.

You look around and then high atop a pine tree,

Camouflage within a snow covered boughs,

You see a snowy owl.

This beautiful bird of prey takes flight and gracefully soars through the falling snow.

Her white wings blend into the landscape and it is only because of their black dots that your eyes can discern the owl in flight.

She circles and lands on a snow covered boulder on the beach and looks at you with buttercup yellow eyes.

Everything about this experience tunes you into the wondrous beauty that exists in this life.

In folklore,

A white owl represents transformation and inner wisdom.

And winter is a time for us to collect ourselves in quiet moments,

To go within and reflect.

It is a season that comes with constant change and removes the guilt sometimes felt in modern society for taking it easy.

A blizzard like the one on the way is a great excuse for hunkering down,

For laying low and taking time to unwind.

The owl disappears,

Taking flight,

And you are reminded of your freedom.

You can truly make choices that you never give much thought to.

And perhaps tonight as you dream,

You may allow these possibilities to inspire you.

The wind blusters and for the first time on this journey,

You are feeling tired and longing for a return to the safety and warmth of your lakeside chalet.

You walk along the beach past neighboring cottages that are vacant during the winter months.

During late spring,

The families will begin to return and prepare for leisurely summer days.

But while they are gone,

You often check in on the homes and take pride in your role as winter guardian.

The pebbled beach winds around into a private cove that contains a secluded beach where your chalet awaits.

The dock is now frozen to the lake and on some nights you will hear the soft crackle of the ice shifting.

You follow stairs from the beach that lead to your chalet.

Inspired by the architecture of the alpine region,

The chalet has eaves that are overhangs of the roof that allow water and snow to glide off with ease.

And often times long icicles will hang from these eaves.

Made of wood,

The decking has lattice like details that make your Vermont home feel like a Swiss ski cottage.

Windows look out on the lake and even in the blustering snow,

The back of the chalet looks as if it's made entirely of glass.

You make your way to the deck and again climb the stairs,

Carefully counting each step as you ascend and grateful that your boots grip the fresh coating of snow.

1,

2,

3,

4,

5,

6.

Climbing the steps one at a time,

You look out on the lake before you continue.

7,

8,

9,

10,

11,

12.

You arrive at the deck and pause to feel the snow melt on your face one last time.

You then clear the snow from the glass French door and open it into the cottage.

You hear the scamper of your pet coming to greet you as you set down the paper bag and remove your boots.

The interior of the chalet is rustic and charming.

With pops of your favorite colors throughout,

The walls are made of pine and the home always retains a sweet woodsy aroma.

Rustic beams hang overhead and are draped with tiny white lights that you turn on with a switch.

They add a magical glow and charm to the room.

You remove your boots as your pet tries to weave his furry head between your arms and knock you off balance.

He cannot wait for your attention and so you stop midway and ruffle the fur on his head and then give him a soft pat.

Once your wet boots are removed,

You slip your feet into a pair of slippers.

To keep your socks dry from the small pools of melting snow,

You remove your coat and scarf and hat and gloves and place them in a wardrobe closet in the open living area.

Every single thing in the chalet has been selected by you over time and is custom to your tastes.

These items represent your memories and milestones,

Contained are mementos and furnishings that you collected throughout your life.

And when you consciously look around and take it all in,

You feel the radiating waves of gratitude for all that you have created in this life.

Because you made this all so.

Your pet is on your heels and you are used to this living shadow that has followed you through all the seasons.

But on snowy days like this,

You most enjoy cuddling with your companion.

You retrieve the paper bag and walk to the open kitchen that looks out onto the lake.

The sky has darkened from lavender gray to smoky black and snow now causes near whiteout conditions.

You arrived at home just in time.

You empty the contents of the paper bag and then bring the bag back to the living area.

You walk to a black cast iron wood stove and pull on the silver spring handle to open the door.

You rip and crumple the bag inside the stove.

You grab a lighter that rests on a pile of logs in the wrought iron firewood holder.

You flick the long neck lighter and the paper catches on fire.

It smells sweet and smoky.

You place pieces of kindling in the wood stove as well.

The fire grows quickly as the kindling is so very dry.

And you see soon add a log that catches two.

You place your hands near the fire and they tingle as feeling returns to them.

Once warmed you close the door and place your warm hands on your cold cheeks.

You enjoy the sensation for a moment and then return to the kitchen.

The wind howls outside and forms snowdrifts against the French doors.

The lights flicker and cause you to anticipate the power going out.

You take the candles you bought and place them in holders stored on a ledge behind the sink.

You remove a saucepan from a rack and place it on the gas stove.

You then take the container of Martha's soup and pour the contents into the pan.

You turn the knob to light the burner and then use the burner flame to ignite the wicks of the two tapered candles and then set them on an empty silver tray on the island.

The flames flicker and bring a warm and cozy glow.

You walk to the farmhouse sink that looks out onto the lake.

Now you see only a white opaque blur of snow.

You turn on the hot water and it slowly warms as you lather your hands with lavender soap.

Bubbles form and the water is the right temperature for rinsing them off.

The soothing lavender smell lingers and calms you as you turn off the faucet and dry your hands on a soft linen towel.

You remove the bread from its bag and place it on a wooden cutting board.

You take a serrated bread knife from the knife block.

You slice it through the crusty bread that smells as fresh as when it first came out of the oven.

You turn on the back burner of the gas range where a cast iron frying pan always rests so it may begin to heat.

You feel a heightened awareness of the tactile sensations of cooking now that your hands are warm and no longer numb.

You open a white ceramic butter dish kept near the stove and feel how cool and smooth and heavy the lid is.

You grasp the knife and cut it into the soft butter,

Then slather it generously onto the bread.

It may just be food to some people,

But at this moment you are curating an experience and preparing your food is like a meditative art.

You take the local cheddar cheese and slice a few slabs as well and place them between the slices of bread.

Once complete,

You carefully place the sandwich on the burner and let it become golden.

Your pet is still at your feet and you grab their pet food and fill a stainless steel bowl that sits on the floor.

He hurriedly runs to the bowl and you listen to his teeth excitedly crunching down on the dry food.

Nurturing and caring for your dear companion always makes you proud to be able to provide these simple things.

You return to the stove and flip your sandwich and turn off the burner to the soup.

It is now steamy and hot and you grab a ceramic soup bowl from the cupboard.

You raise the saucepan and tip it so the thick soup cascades out of the pouring spout in a delicious stream.

And you notice when you concentrate on the steam rising and the colorful soup rippling into the bowl that the most mundane of moments in your life are full of beauty when you pay attention.

The grilled cheese is complete.

You turn off the burner and remove the sandwich from the pan.

You place it on the cutting block and slice it diagonally.

The melted cheese oozes out of the crispy golden brown bread.

You take a textured ceramic plate from the cupboard and place your hot sandwich on it.

You open a drawer and grab a spoon that you place in the soup before closing it.

You take the bowl and plate to the silver tray and carefully find balance as you lift it and walk to the living room.

Your pet follows eagerly in tow and the lights begin to flicker before the power goes out completely just as you reach the living room.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the ambient glow of the candles and wood stove fire.

You place your silver tray on the rustic coffee table,

Purchased from a furniture shop located in a classic Vermont style red barn.

You curl your feet up under you and sink into the soft,

Plush chase of the sectional sofa.

The cathedral ceilings are high and lofty and add a heavenly open space to the otherwise quaint chalet.

You feel the contentment and deep sense of rest that comes after an active day.

The kind of day when you cannot wait to put your feet up and let it all go.

And right now,

You do just that.

You pick up the bowl and spoon the warm,

Silky soup into your mouth.

You feel the liquid cascade down your throat and it warms and soothes you within.

This meal comes with comforting memories,

Going back into your youth.

You alternate between soup and the grilled cheese,

Consuming them however you like,

While your pet looks to you with loving eyes.

After you finish eating,

You rise and add a few more logs to the wood stove.

You return to the chase and settle in.

You rest your head back on the oversized throw pillows that have been collected through the years.

You pull a crocheted chenille throw blanket from where it hangs on the back of the sofa and drape it over your legs and torso.

Your pet inches closer,

Finding the perfect gaps into which he molds his body so he can rest his chin on your legs.

You listen to the winter storm as it picks up intensity.

The whistling winds and the pelts of snow that land on the roof create a percussive beat.

The sound is a reminder of how grateful you are to be nestled by the wood stove.

You feel both warm and satiated in every possible way.

Your body begins to soften like the warm candle wax of the tapered candles that slowly burn down.

You relax into a dreamy haze of contentment,

Just floating,

Drifting,

Thoughtless,

And letting yourself be captivated by the shadows on the wall from the dancing candle flames.

You know you are close to sleep,

So you lean forward and blow out the candles.

Your pet is already in a deep sleep and does not stir.

You settle back into the cushions and watch the silver-gray trail of smoke rise from the smoldering orange wicks.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you let them rest on your tired eyes.

The fire crackles and pops and your pet softly snores.

You surrender to the beauty of this life that you have created.

You let go and embrace the comforts and safety of the chalet on a lake.

You relish the softness in your body as it lets go of another day.

And I am going to count you down towards a night of healing,

Restorative sleep.

Ten,

Nine,

Eight,

Seven,

Six,

Five,

Four,

Three,

Two,

One.

Finding peace,

Finding bliss,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.