Escape To Transylvania: Sleep Story & Bedtime Meditation

Bedtime is your special time for self-care where you may enjoy the healing powers of your imagination with the help of a sleep story and guided meditation.

You are listening to Dreamy Escape to Transylvania.

Few places in the world are like a portal to centuries past and tonight's journey to Transylvania evokes magic and mysticism.

You travel by train through medieval villages surrounded by the Carpathian Mountains in an area known as the Land Beyond the Forest.

You inhale the fragrant mountain air and take a horse and carriage ride on a winding road that leads to a castle.

You walk through the misty forest that surrounds the castle grounds before retreating to your suite and falling asleep.

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 bring you down from the stresses of the day and remind you that times of rest are sacred.

You are doing all you need to do.

You have earned the special time to relax and unleash the powers of your imagination.

The tailwinds of your creativity may lead you wherever you desire and you may customize this experience however you see fit.

Letting go of my voice before the story ends,

If sleep beckons to you,

You are free of judgement and all the noise of the outside world in the sanctuary you maintain in your mind.

Nestle into your bed and feel your body become heavy and relaxed.

As you sink deeper and deeper down,

You take in a breath that fills your lungs until you can inhale no more.

Open your mouth and yawn if that feels good and when you exhale,

Do so in a soft sigh,

Audibly if you like.

With closed eyes,

Feel how heavy your eyelids become.

And they are like cool,

Damp sandbags that soothe your tired eyes.

Continue to breathe in and out,

Feeling your belly rise and fall as it undulates with ease.

You visualize that you rise out of your bed as a door magically appears on the bedroom wall.

A luminous silvery mist floats out of the cracks of the door and trails of this mist wrap around you,

Massaging you and coaxing you to walk towards the door.

There is an ornate medieval door knocker carved in the shape of a lynx's face.

Your fingers wrap around the chilly cast iron ring and you confidently knock on the door.

The door opens suddenly,

This portal into another world and time.

You feel your floating and drifting through the mist.

It covers your exposed skin and feels soothing and calm.

From an aerial view,

You see the Carpathian Mountains rising towards a blue sky.

Tappled with fluffy white clouds,

The jagged,

Lightly snow-covered mountain peaks form an arc around Eastern and Central Europe.

But it is here in Romania,

The beloved heart of Transylvania,

Where the greatest population of brown bears inhabit the forests of the Carpathians.

Lynxes and wolves run wild in the lush green forests that perfume the air with a clean,

Tiny aroma as you take in the setting for Bram Stoker's Dracula.

The author's words are like a whisper on the wind.

I want you to believe.

To believe in things that you cannot.

You become free with a suspension of disbelief that is often only found in dreams and fantasy.

You hover above the most unique roadway,

The Transfagarasan,

Which winds in long S-curves and sharp hairpin turns like a gray ribbon through emerald valleys between mountain peaks.

You are suddenly seated on a firm red leather bench of a train that weaves through the valleys of Transylvania.

The train chugs along,

Passing rolling meadows overflowing with sunflowers that signify the peak of summer.

Never before have you seen so many of these grand yellow flowers.

You imagine floating across the velvety petals and feeling the bead-like brown seeds acting like the massaging bed of soft needles on an acupressure mat.

Sheep graze in open pastures,

Unfazed by the familiar train that cuts through their bucolic paradise.

The train glides along S-curves and your body sways to and fro as it rises in elevation towards the mountain resort town of Sinaia.

As you step onto the platform,

You inhale the fresh mountain air.

The air is crisp,

Damp,

And perfumed by the forested land.

It feels mentholated and tingly with each new intake of air.

You listen to the shuffle of other passengers,

Equally excited for a summer holiday in the enchanted mountain pass.

You exit the station and find a horse and carriage are parked along the tree-lined boulevard.

The coach driver stands on the curb with a sign with your name written in elegant handwriting.

Dapper and dressed in a velvet suit from another era of fashion,

He helps you into an ebony carriage that has intricate golden swirls and designs you simply trust.

Going on this journey,

You decide to surrender to all that comes your way.

The driver climbs into his seat and the carriage gently rocks back and forth.

He guides the horses onwards through the bustling village up the hill that leads to a castle where you may spend the night.

You are traveling light and the driver takes notice and offers to bring you into a boutique in town.

You feel the crisp air on your skin as well as the silky mist that hovers over the cobblestone streets of the village.

Stone cottages and gingerbread house-like buildings line the narrow streets of Sinaiya.

The driver brings you to a clothing shop located within a stone building.

You disembark and thank him.

Peering into the shop's window,

You see mannequins dressed in vintage clothing with ruffled silk shirts beneath velvet suits and elegant dresses cinched at the waist.

In a way,

The shop feels more like entering a magic shop than a clothing boutique.

You open the shop door and a bell rings.

It is warm indoors,

Slightly musty,

And sweetly perfumed by the smell of tea,

Books,

And old clothing.

The shop owner is a demure woman with dark inquisitive eyes,

A coiffed hairstyle,

And a tailored dress that falls like velvet on an hourglass.

She smiles scanning you from head to toe,

And with a simple glance intuits what outfit would most suit you on your escape to Transylvania.

She silently leads you towards a dressing room,

Speaking only with the graceful motions of her hand.

You go behind the crimson velvet curtain of the changing room,

Which seems more suited for a theatrical stage than a tiny boutique in a mountain town.

She brings an outfit that is exactly what you would dream of wearing in this landscape of romance and beauty.

The colors are rich and in a scheme that best suits you.

The fabric is soft,

Buttery,

And comfortable.

You change out of your modern attire into these vintage pieces and feel like you are yourself yet someone new altogether.

You look in the mirror and admire how your new attire fits like a glove and brings you confidence.

It simply feels right.

As you leave the dressing room to pay,

The owner insists this is a gift,

And you are a special visitor who she was instructed to treat well.

You try to thank her,

But she will have nothing of it.

She guides you towards the door,

Encouraging you to enjoy the rest of your journey through the pearl of the Carpathians.

Your carriage awaits and your driver again assists you into the back seat,

Giving you a respectful nod and compliment about how well dressed you are.

The carriage wheels roll over the cobblestone street that weaves up the hill towards the castle.

Lush hardwood trees line the narrow passageway and their verdant foliage creates a dark green canopy.

The trees stand tall,

Protective,

And act as a boundary between the civilized world and the mystical wilderness beyond.

The silvery mist slithers between the trees and along the road.

Like wispy fingers beckoning you to come hither,

The mist leads you to the outskirts of the village.

You ride past stone cottages that are quaint and medieval.

Some of the homes are semi-timbered and caramel-hued,

With chocolate brown wooden crosses that look like the laces of a corset on the façade.

The hooves of the horses clip clop against the narrow path and the wheels glide over the shiny stones of the street.

Take in a deep breath and the air purifies you from the outside in.

And while summer sunset encroaches,

The mountain air is cool and tingly on your face.

Your new clothes are warm and snug and prepare you for the nip in the air that nightfall will bring.

Birds sing out their final songs of the day and chirp throughout the surrounding forest.

The 19th century castle appears as if floating atop the trees and reaching into the lavender blue canvas of the sky.

Atop a green hill that serves as a blanket for summer blossoms,

The neoclassical castle takes your breath away.

Releasing out of a stone foundation,

The castle was designed and erected by teams of woodworkers and artists from all over Europe.

Brown wooden beams crisscross over the creamy white façade like chocolate sauce drizzled over vanilla ice cream.

Spires jut against the backdrop of the forested mountains with spires that dare to pierce the sky and symbolize the heavenly aspirations of medieval dreamers.

It's as if all the most beautiful aspects of Italian and German and Romanian architecture spanning centuries were harmoniously combined to create the most magical castle you have ever seen.

The carriage arrives before a garden with sculpted hedges and a stone gate.

You exit the carriage and decide to take a walk around the grounds and surrounding woods before checking into the castle.

The early evening breeze is as soft as a whisper and sweeps your hair back in a soft massage causing goosebumps of pleasure to travel from head to toe.

Your feet are now in vintage boots tied securely around your ankles and feet.

When you land on the plush grass,

You feel secure and grounded by the energy of the mountainous landscape.

A mist still hovers over the ground and you walk to the border of trees that mark where the mystical forest begins and the landscaped lawn ends.

As you cross the border into the woodlands,

Everything suddenly changes.

The quiet of the estate is now replaced with the sounds of rustling leaves,

Crickets and frogs chirping and rabbits scurrying across the forest floor.

Fallen pine needles,

Some burnt orange and some still a deep shade of green create a carpet on the earth's floor that is stapled with wide and broad leaves.

With each step you find yourself counting,

Going deeper and deeper into the mystical woods.

Your boots sink into the wet earth and you look up to the looming trees.

You watch as pine needles are blown free from the breeze and fall right before you.

You reach out your hand and they land in your palm in slow motion as light as feathers.

You bring them to your nose and again inhale the piney aroma of the woods.

The mist begins to rise and reaches hip level as you continue to walk deeper into the woods.

An owl hoots as if to give off a warning.

Then you look ahead to see a babbling stream.

A lone wolf is lapping the icy water.

She blends in with the metallic blue water and dreamy silver mist.

Her grey and tawny fur is sleek as she has shed her winter undercoat.

You feel intrigued and safe to walk forward,

Relying on your intuition.

She hears your steps and raises her head,

Also intrigued,

And looks into your eyes with her grey-green eyes.

Wolves of the Carpathian Mountains symbolize strength and are reminders to trust your instincts.

You feel in your body,

In your solar plexus especially,

That space just beneath the hollow of your ribs,

A deep trust in yourself.

Your instincts have kept you alive and guided you this far from home.

New experiences and breaking out of the ordinary routines of your life help you tap deeper into your intuition.

At first you feel a tingling like static electricity that makes the hair on your arms and legs and neck rise.

This feeling grows,

Resonating in your spine and your heart center,

With a deep knowing that you are on the right track.

The sky begins to darken at the onset of twilight and you are ready to return to the castle.

A squirrel scurries across the path that leads you to the heart of the forest.

The animals who thrive in the daylight begin to seek shelter in their hollows and burrows,

While the nocturnal creatures of the forest awaken and come out to roam the shadowy woodlands.

You return to the lush lawns and rolling hills of the estate and walk across the dewy grass towards the main entrance of the castle.

The castle appears gilded in the golden lights that shine on the estate come nightfall.

You come to the entrance and are greeted by the staff.

They open the doors that lead to a grand entryway and red carpeted stairway.

Sculptures and hand carved wooded facades show that no detail went unnoticed in this ornate interior.

You wander from room to room,

Curious and inspired by the craftsmanship and artistry to be found in every nook and corner.

The air is cool inside the castle and again you are grateful for the well fitting warm clothes that you wear.

Your feet click on the stone floors and the sound reverberates,

Echoing back from the high detailed ceilings.

The windows rise from the floors,

Double your height,

Adorned in silk curtains and hues of crimson,

Sapphire,

Emerald and gold.

The curtains are open and you look out onto the grounds to see the sky is completely clear.

You peer through the windows across the courtyard.

Moonlight beams from a waxing gibbous moon and illuminates the softly flowing water in the center fountain.

You hear a wolf howl and imagine it was the one you encountered in the woods.

Her cry is wild and free.

It calls to you and for a moment you embrace your own wild and sense a freedom to explore.

You wander from room to room,

Feeling as if you are traveling through time.

You are soothed by the textures as you run your hand across velvet chairs and silk throw pillows.

You walk through a music room with a grand piano that you run your fingers across,

Feeling the cool keys as a sound is released.

You then find yourself in a library with more books than you have ever seen in one room,

Surrounded by knowledge and history.

You walk through a dining hall and the table seats more guests than you can count.

Like a shell that has retained the sound of ocean waves,

The dining room echoes the melodious sounds of laughter and animated conversations from dinners gone by,

Of glasses clinking and the finest of silver utensils ringing as they tap against the fine china.

You take in a deep breath and can smell the savory foods and decadent desserts served in this room over centuries of entertaining.

You step into the long dimly lit hall.

Candelabras are placed on marble tables and the candles are lit and create shadows on the walls.

A staff member dressed in a timeless uniform asks if you are ready to retreat to your room.

You feel so very tired from this day of travel and nod,

Silently wondering if this person is real or imagined.

As the thought crosses your mind,

You realize it does not matter.

For your intuition informs you that all is ok.

You feel safe and nurtured as you follow a cerulean carpet that leads up a flight of wide marble stairs like a healing blue stream.

You count each step as you ascend,

Finding yourself becoming more tired and falling deeper into this experience.

It becomes more dreamlike with each count and you become more and more relaxed.

One,

Two,

Three,

Four,

Five,

Six,

Seven,

Eight,

Nine,

Ten.

Trusting your intuition,

Your feet feel so light as if they waft above the stairs.

You feel more aware of each time your foot hovers above the blue carpet than you do when it lands.

It feels as if you are floating.

Eleven,

Twelve,

Thirteen,

Fourteen,

Fifteen,

Sixteen,

Seventeen,

Eighteen.

You come to the landing of the East Wing.

The staff member leads you beneath a gleaming chandelier and past a hall with Roman pillars and medieval bronze statues.

You are brought to the mahogany double doors that open into your suite.

The staff member opens them,

Unveiling a sacred place for slumber.

And as you turn to thank them,

They mysteriously have disappeared.

You walk into the room and discover a four poster hand carved wooden bed frame.

Rich purple velvet curtains are closed over the tall windows,

Blocking out the world.

The royal suite is perfect for sleep.

The doors close behind you and you walk towards a sitting area.

There is a silver tray with a plate of Romanian pastries and a white tea kettle with hand painted red flowers.

You pour the tea into a cup and inhale the soothing aroma of chamomile that has been blended with valerian root.

You sit in the deep cushions of a velvet settee and run your hand across the plush emerald upholstery.

The tea is warm and silky and runs down your throat in a soothing cascade.

You take a bite of the buttery pastry and it melts in your mouth.

The crumbs dissolve with another sip of tea.

You feel satiated and full.

Your belly is warm and your eyes are quite tired.

You rise and walk to the bathroom.

There is a basket of amenities,

Soaps and silk pajamas with your name embroidered on the right pocket.

You change out of your transylvanian clothes and into the silk pajamas that happen to be in your favorite color.

They feel divine against your skin.

The bathroom has gold fixtures and a majestic mirror over the marble sink.

You catch a reflection and you look content,

Comfortable and blessed.

You wash your face with the soap and it contains dried wildflowers that remind you of the rolling meadows of Romania.

You run the soap and petals across your hands and face and inhale the fragrance of summer.

You wash away the soap and dry off and then brush your teeth with a peppermint toothpaste.

As you finish,

You feel again the echoes of another time and the energy of those who came before you and relished the beauty of the castle.

You return to the bedroom and turn off the light.

In the darkness,

Your intuition is heightened as you guide yourself through the suite.

Your feet are now bare and step on the cool wood floor and soft purple and blue carpet that lead to a platform on which the bed is positioned.

You carefully climb into the platform as your vision adjusts to the darkness.

You pull back the heavy satin quilt and satin cotton sheets and hoist yourself into the bed.

The four posters of the antique bed frame are like the spires atop the castle,

Reaching towards the heavenly skies.

The mattress is plush and cloud-like.

You feel at any moment the bed could take flight across the sky and soar above the forests and Carpathian mountains.

You imagine the dreams to come on this magical night.

They may bring visions and guidance.

They may have fantastical elements inspired by the mystery of Transylvania.

They may bring whatever you desire in the dreams that come.

Close your eyes and your head sinks deeper into the plush pillow,

Going down,

Down,

Down.

From head to toe,

Your body is comfortable,

Safe and tired.

You feel the heaviness and soft burn in your muscles that comes from a day of activity and adventure.

I am going to count you down to a night of deep healing sleep.

7,

6,

5,

4,

3,

2,

1.

Finding peace,

Finding respite,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.