The Storybook Village Of Colmar: Sleep Story & Meditation

Drift away to sleep in this guided bedtime meditation and sleep story that will help you relax.

You are listening to A Storybook Village in France.

In tonight's journey,

We will travel to the town of Colmar,

France.

In the magical Alsace region,

Colmar's beauty has been considered untouchable throughout history.

Bicycle through the winding dirt roads that weave through rolling emerald hills and vineyards.

The sprawling verdant landscape and purple mountains hug the quaint fairy tale village.

A colorful array of half-timbered homes and weeping willows line a romantic canal often referred to as Le Petit Venice.

You travel on a gondola at sunset beneath the sherbet sky and through a canal lined with boxes of cascading flowers.

This charming town is yours to explore before you find respite in a storybook bed and breakfast.

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 a trusted friend and host on this journey.

I am here to remind you that you deserve this sacred time at the end of the day to rest and unwind.

And while oftentimes thinking may interfere with sleep,

On the wings of your imagination you may use your thoughts to transport you to a night of healing,

Dream-filled sleep.

Magical worlds await you,

Ready to be painted on the canvas of your mind.

At any point,

You may let go of my voice if sleep beckons.

You are free to return and listen again to get further along.

And should you drift away before reaching the end,

The fairy tale imagery of Kolmar may color your dreams.

In the sanctuary of your room and mind,

You may get comfortable in your bed and wiggle out any part of your day that you still carry.

All that has happened is left behind as you snuggle and get cozy.

Tune into the wondrous feeling of being safe and nurtured by your self-soothing powers.

With your eyes closed,

Take in a deep breath and feel your belly rise as your lungs fill to their fullest capacity.

Open your mouth and do a big,

Delicious yawn and then sigh.

Make an audible sigh if that helps you feel more relaxed.

As you inhale again,

You imagine your body is cast in shimmering gold light.

From the crown of your head to the tips of your toes,

You are cloaked in this magical,

Glittery glow.

You are surrounded by the magical light of fairy tales and fantasy escapes.

You exhale through pursed lips as if blowing through a straw and suddenly the sparkling light travels towards the ceiling.

With a longing for adventure,

You travel on this light and it supports you like a magic carpet.

The ceiling and roof of your home open up and you float towards an indigo blue sky,

Freckled with twinkling silver stars.

You drift through space,

Feeling anything is possible.

Your body tingles from head to toe and retains the warmth from the golden aura.

Your skin feels sun-kissed as if you spent a day basking in sunlight at the shore.

Traveling across the night sky,

The earth that you know fades away into the celestial darkness.

You sense you are traveling through time and space as you begin to float down,

Down,

Down.

Suddenly you are surrounded by vibrant colors and bright light.

The landscape becomes clearer when you find yourself seated on a vintage bicycle with a long leathery banana seat.

You hear the chain of the bike rattle softly as you pedal through the rolling hills of the Alsace region in France.

There is a wicker basket on your bike that holds a colorful array of wildflowers,

A baguette,

And local delicacies you have collected from visits to local farms.

Your morning has been carefully spent riding through vineyards and dairy farms.

Your interactions with the locals have been friendly and warm.

The cadence of the French language lands on your ears like a romantic song.

You need not understand a word,

For the melody of each phrase is delivered with passion and energy that transcends language.

It was the perfect morning.

Sky is a brilliant cornflower blue without a cloud to be seen,

And the sun shines brightly on this spring day.

The emerald green landscape is so vibrantly colorful that it reminds you of Dorothy's arrival in Oz.

You take in a deep breath and inhale the aroma of spring.

The clean fresh air feels cool yet comfortable as a breeze blows against your bare skin and soft linen attire.

Beyond the final curtain of winter,

The warm embrace and vivacious palette of spring bring a heightened joy only felt so intensely when the season begins.

Because early spring arrives as a relief from your winter life,

The dirt path creates a small cloud of dust as you ride between rows of grapes that grow at a local vineyard.

You feel your leg muscles work hard while you pedal to the top of a hill.

From here you may see the storybook village of Comar in the distance.

The colorful historic homes look like a row of rainbow oil pastels set in a green velvet lined box.

You park the bike and remove your favorite treats from the basket to enjoy an impromptu picnic.

You sit in the lush grass and begin to eat the fresh bread,

Still warm from the brick oven that baked it.

A perfect baguette,

The golden brown exterior crunches and your teeth land into the feathery light interior.

Perhaps jam or local cheese or honey and butter are used to flavor the bread the way you prefer.

You take in a deep breath and smell the rich earth and perfume of wildflowers that paint the hills in swatches of bright yellow and periwinkle.

You finish your meal and consider how the beauty of the region inspired the imaginations of people who came before you.

They built a fairy tale village that added to the beauty of the valley.

For a moment you imagine if all of the earth had been treated with the same creative and inspired touch.

You rise and stretch your arms overhead towards the sun.

You simply feel good.

From head to toe your body feels comfortable and strong.

You mount your bike and journey down a sienna dirt road that leads towards the heart of Kolmar.

You glide on your bike,

Extending your feet in the air like a child when the descent down the hill increases the speed of your bicycle.

Your hair billows on the breeze and your face erupts in a spontaneous smile.

You feel the sunshine on your face as it lands in a blanket of golden warmth.

You feel free.

You imagine this must be the freedom a bird feels when it soars through the sky and rides on the wind.

The dirt road turns into a narrow paved street that runs between tall evergreens that sweeten the air with a piney aroma.

Everything about the Alsace region feels invigorating and refreshing.

From snow capped silhouettes of the Vosges peaks to the fragrant mountain air to the liveliness of spring in bloom.

You ride along the outskirts of Kolmar,

Noticing as houses pop up and you see other happy souls riding on bicycles and walking into town.

You bicycle through old town,

Passing buildings erected dating back to the 16th century.

The medieval town itself goes back to the 12th century when the canals were bustling with butchers and tanners and fishmongers.

The charming homes have gable roofs,

These ornate triangular roofs,

Jut against the backdrop of the blue sky like treetops of evergreens.

Along the canal the half-timbered homes are painted in shades of soft pink and vibrant mango and aquamarine and marigold yellow.

Dark brown wooden accents crisscross on the colorful facades of houses like taut ribbons on satin corsets.

No window is without shutters and these wooden fixtures appear in an array of vibrant colors as well.

The late afternoon sun lowers in the sky and casts the village in a soft dreamy bath of corn silk light.

You ride on the glistening cobblestone streets,

Feeling as if you have traveled back in time.

You pass a bakery and the smells of buttery French croissants and fresh baguettes travel on the warm air escaping the open door.

Close to the German border,

The influences of the neighboring country are evident everywhere.

You park your bike in a safe spot by the canal and walk along the waterway.

Baskets are perched on the canal walls and overflow with spring flowers in shades of crimson and sunshine yellow and fuchsia.

The vibrant flowers cascade like waterfalls of colorful petals that sway above the tawny green water.

You take in a deep breath and feel the spring air hit your lungs,

Traveling through your nose with a musky perfume of sweet and vegetal notes from the flowers and the greenery.

You walk down the cobblestone path to a dock and board a gondola,

Led by a charming gondolier who hums softly while guiding you into the canal.

The vessel is narrow and hugs around you like a half of a pea pod.

The sun begins to set and the sky is aglow in sherbet-hued strokes of raspberry pink and orange and creates a colorful canvas on the reflective water.

The pastel facades of houses reflect on the canal like an impressionist oil painting that has yet to dry.

You are drawn to the ripples that form each time the gondolier dips the oar deep into the water and propels you forward.

You sit in a well-worn scarlet seat that contours around your body.

The gentle motion of the gondola brings stillness to your mind.

You relish every detail.

The fragrant violet and yellow-hearted pansies abundantly drape over baskets with their delicate petals.

A soft breeze blows loose purple petals down the canal and you catch one in your hand.

You watch the other petals land around you and float on the water with grace.

You bring the petal to your nose and inhale the sweet cologne of spring before letting it go into the water.

How lovely it is to glide across the glassy water in the most heavenly scene with the sole purpose of experiencing joy,

Of being rooted in pleasure where the sensory experiences soothe you deeply within.

And in this moment,

There is no lack.

There is simply abundance and the contentment in knowing it took every step in your life to come to this beautiful,

Timeless experience of joy.

Clouds appear in the sky like handfuls of cotton candy stretched across it.

On this gondola ride,

You understand how this medieval town took on the name of Le Petit Venice.

You approach a stone footbridge,

Adorned with spring flowers spilling over it into the canal.

A few flowers dangle from vines and grace your head with a gentle massage before the gondola floats beneath the shadows of the bridge.

You're traveling across the canal from outdoor cafes that are perched on the sidewalk overhead,

Where travelers and locals are seated for dinner at sunset.

You rest your head in the basket of your intertwined fingers and lay back into the seat.

You look to the sky as twilight sets in and the air becomes cooler.

The drop in temperature and rise in dampness makes the air smell clean and purer.

Each intake of air feels as refreshing as drinking a glass of crisp,

Clean water from a local mountain-fed stream.

The gondola approaches a dock and you carefully balance as you stand.

The gondolier takes your hand and helps you out of the gondola,

Wishing you a good night.

You walk up old stone steps that lead to a narrow lane that winds around the fairy tale dwellings.

Flower boxes are hung from every window you pass,

And you begin to feel that this town belongs to them,

Like thick curtains that fuchsia and purple flowers spill out and drape over the colorful walls of the buildings.

You saunter on the shiny cobblestone,

Feeling grounded with each step.

You're spending much of the day in motion on a bicycle and then a floating vessel.

It feels good to walk.

The turquoise and coral and mustard-hued houses are nestled against one another,

Sharing walls and a sense of intimacy.

You envision centuries ago when people opened their shutters to let in the morning sun and conversed in French with their neighbors,

Who were near enough to reach out and touch.

You can hear the lingering voices,

Quietly like a timeless melody.

They still echo down the lane.

You arrive at a bed and breakfast where you have already checked in earlier in the day.

The house is painted in your favorite colors,

Which you took to be a good omen when you first arrived.

You open the front door,

Which is painted in a hue that conjures feelings of happiness for you.

You walk into the foyer and ascend the wide wooden stairs,

Gripping your cool fingers around the warm,

Shiny banister.

You imagine the dark wood came from the black forest at a time when the brothers Grimm wrote their famous tales.

Everything about this bed and breakfast carries the energy of the past.

And at the same time,

Everything feels safe and nurturing and like a home away from home.

You walk down the creaking wooden floor to your room.

You feel a chill from the night air and hug yourself as a wave of warmth from your sleeping quarters washes over you when you open the door.

Inside the hostess has started a fire in the original open hearth fireplace.

The flames lick the soot covered bricks that have served the house for centuries.

You imagine the cold winter nights spent cuddled by the fire.

Your tired eyes lose focus on the marmalade flames.

You take in a deep breath,

Feeling the warm air enter your lungs and soothe you.

There is a velvet armchair located near the fire and an antique side table made of hand carved wood.

You imagine an artisan in a nearby forest centuries ago,

Crafting furniture in his sanctuary in nature and then bringing his goods to the village to sell.

You run your fingers across the soft velvet and then the smooth intricate designs of the table before taking a seat.

Your tired body sinks into the chair and you feel the soft burning sensation that comes after a day of using your muscles to their utmost capacity.

Now your muscles melt like soft wax in the glow of the fire.

Similar rustic dark brown beams that ornate the facades of village homes run across the top of the cream colored ceiling.

They make the room feel like the inside of a cozy mountain cottage.

There is an ornate silver tray on the side table that holds a large mug of hot cocoa.

A croissant rests on a gold rimmed china plate.

Hand painted flowers on the plate form a colorful wreath around the flaky pastry.

You smell the butter it contains,

An assumptuous chocolate that rides on a silver cloud of steam from the mug.

You raise the mug to your nose and inhale the aroma of the rich drink.

Chocolate shavings stapple clouds of whipped cream.

The chocolate comes from a local chocolatier who runs a shop that has sold fine chocolates since the 19th century.

The cream was whipped by the hostess' delicate hands in the kitchen of the bed and breakfast and sourced from a nearby dairy farm.

Every nuance of this delicious indulgence and this room and this picturesque town is a testimony to the quality of life that is cherished in the Alsace region of France.

You sip the warm elixir and it flows down your throat as velvety soft as the chair upon which you rest.

Your attention turns to the tall windows that look out on the ebony water of the canal.

You see the silver stars that twinkle in the rich blue-black canvas of night.

A sliver of a crescent moon hangs in the celestial sky,

Dangling over the town like the overflowing flowers that dangle over the cobblestone streets.

You take a bite of the flaky crescent and feel it melt on your tongue.

The fire crackles and pops in the open hearth and you watch as golden orange sparks scurry up the shaft so they may dance on the smoke as it leaves the chimney.

For a moment,

You imagine what it must feel like to be a spark.

So delicate and yet fierce,

Lighting up the night as it flies towards the moon.

You finish your evening treat and walk to the French windows and open them into the room.

You feel a cool spring breeze off the canal and look at the candy-colored homes one last time.

In the mystical light of the moon,

You imagine sliding down the sloped roofs that appear to be covered in gingerbread shingles.

You reach out and grab the colorful shutters and your chest opens as your arms stretch.

Your heart points towards the moon and you inhale the night air one last time.

You close the shutters and then the windows,

Shutting out the world for a night of deep,

Healing sleep.

You change out of your clothes and into cotton pajamas that are soft and lightweight.

You peel back the heavy comforter and crisp sheets and climb into the bed,

Slipping beneath them.

The bedding was laundered and dried in the sun.

It smells of mountain air and spring flowers.

Next to the bed,

An antique ceramic vase of dried lavender sits on a side table.

The sleep-inducing fragrance helps you to relax deeply and for sleepiness to take over.

You sink into the cloud-like mattress and downy pillows.

Your body feels as comfortable as a hand inside the perfect fit of a buttery,

Soft glove.

The room is dark,

Save for the golden flames of the fire that cause shadows to dance on the walls.

In this dark stillness,

In this historic room,

You imagine all those who came before you and enjoyed the sacred act of slumber.

The crackling of the fire is a timeless sound that now brings you comfort on this cool spring night.

You inhale and exhale,

Feeling gratitude for the body that has carried you through the storybook town.

And as you prepare to cross the bridge to your sleeping life,

You think of the footbridge of Colmar,

Draped in vibrant flowers.

You imagine the bridge to sleep,

Adorned with the softness of petals that feel like silk when you grace your fingers across them.

You float across the bridge,

Feeling as light and carefree as clean linens drying on a cloth line in the French countryside.

Like the tides of a river,

You feel yourself gently guided to a night of colorful,

Imaginative dreams.

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

Deep sleep,

Where you may allow the wings of your imagination to guide you towards the greater good.

Ten,

Nine,

Eight,

Seven,

Six,

Five,

Four,

Three,

Two,

One.

Finding peace.

Finding bliss.

Finding rest.

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.