Fall fast asleep with this calm bedtime story for grown-ups.
You are listening to The Summer Storm,
A sleep meditation story with rain and thunder sounds to help you relax.
Travel to the Low Country,
Where tidal marshes and barrier islands offer a dreamy setting for reflections.
Walk the beach at low tide with your beloved pet,
Collecting shells and sea glass.
You pass historic homes with courtyards surrounded by trees dripping in Spanish moss.
In the afternoon,
You gather fresh mint and strawberries from your garden to make a soothing tonic.
You relax in a rocking chair in a tiny garden cottage.
The sky becomes dark,
And the hot humid air cools as a summer storm rolls in.
You return to your main house and fall asleep to the sounds of falling rain with your pet curled at your feet.
It's time to dream away.
I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.
My name is Michelle,
And as you listen,
Think of me as the voice of a loving friend and advocate for sleep.
When your inner voice keeps you up,
I am here to guide it towards peace and pleasant imagery.
One thought can be a ticket to a mental vacation.
You deserve to set aside this time before bed to unwind and focus on setting the tone for the dreamscape that awaits you.
Change or embellish the details as the story unfolds to meet what most appeals to your senses and desires.
This is your journey,
And you know what you most need.
Trust yourself infinitely.
Get cozy in your bed.
Wiggle and shake off any tension in your body.
Come to stillness and revel in the comforts of your room.
Go deep into the sanctuary of this place designed for sleep and dreaming.
Enjoy the haven of your mind and body as your eyelids become heavy upon your tired eyes and close out all distractions from the outside world.
Begin a deep breath and let it turn into a hearty yawn.
This yawn can become dramatic as it rolls into a sigh.
Let your body know that you are ready for sleep and deep relaxation.
Inhale again.
Sip in the air like a salve that sends a relaxing message to every part of your body.
Imagine this message travels in oxygen molecules from cell to cell,
Offering relief.
Open your mouth and take another yawn and exhale in a sigh.
Air cascades from your mouth like crystal water flowing over a rocky cliff.
One last time.
Repeat this breathing pattern at your own pace and tempo.
Do what feels best.
Return your breath to normal.
And notice how much better you feel now than mere moments ago.
In a state of ease and grace,
You are ready to open yourself to a creative adventure before drifting across the bridge to your sleeping life.
It's time for the story to begin.
During the dog days of August,
The air of the low country can become as thick and heavy as seaweed along the shore.
You feel the weight of it on your shoulders and face,
And every motion requires a bit more effort.
You move as if swimming through a warm cloud as your feet rise above the sandy wooden planks of a boardwalk.
The eau de perfume of pluff mud taints the morning breeze during the low tide and smells like a snuffed out match.
This rich earthly aroma marries the salty Atlantic air in what low country writer Pat Conroy penned,
The smell of where all life comes from.
The fertile landscape showcases an otherworldly magnificence in the greens and blues that saturate the sky,
Marsh grasses,
And ocean.
The sun pours over blue-green waves and sparkling gilded rays in another display of nature's opulence.
And anyone who walks through this splendor,
No matter their station in life,
Experiences the ultimate in abundance.
It is the kind of wealth not created by man.
You walk down the stairs to the tawny beach with your beloved dog at your side.
You balance your flip flops over your fingers and the dog leash wraps around your palm.
The dry sand is hot beneath your bare feet.
You jog to the tidal pools and damp sand left by the low tide for reprieve.
Their dog pants with their teeth fully exposed in a fox-like smile.
A layer of frothy saliva spills across their raspberry pink tongue like the lacy sea foam that dabbles the beach.
You unleash your pup on this quiet morning and walk by a few fishermen who wave hello and greet you.
Their leathery skin is a rich shade of bronze weathered by decades in the low country.
Every wrinkle and pore could tell a story.
Prishi,
A retired shrimper,
Spends the morning pouring over the beach with a metal detector with precision.
He jokes that he relies on hunches more than the machine.
And his greatest find was a ten-carat engagement ring lost by an excited bride-to-be on a night of celebration.
He found the owner and returned it,
Explaining that he often did the searching more for others than himself.
Your pet adores Prishi and runs up to the kind soul who dresses in pressed khakis and a long-sleeved plaid button-down shirt,
No matter how high the mercury climbs on a thermometer in August.
Prishi keeps a secret stash of homemade dried jerky in his pocket and gives one to your pup after asking permission,
As he always does.
There's gonna be a storm later on.
I can feel this one coming,
For she tells you in his raspy drawl.
You hadn't checked the weather and believe him.
A wave of gratitude washes over you for coming on this morning's walk and enjoying the cornflower blue skies while you can.
The afternoon heat can be oppressive,
And your pup gets quite antsy and bored when unable to explore or go on long walks.
Prishi says goodbye,
And you continue walking southerly towards rolling dunes and minty green beach grass.
Ocean mist lands on your bare arms and legs,
With an assist from the summer breeze,
Nature offers you a cooling effect.
Your pup jumps through shallow waves,
And you walk behind them,
Standing deep enough for the water to lap against your shins.
Pretzels fly overhead,
Occasionally dipping down onto the beach to enjoy a chip or pretzel left behind by beach goers.
Your dog runs towards the dry sand,
And begins to dig a small hole to bury their snout in the cool,
Damp sand below.
You pause and turn towards the ocean.
The waves pound against the shore,
And the vibrations travel up the soles of your feet.
The whispering surf lulls you into a state of peace,
As it often does.
And the vast ocean summons deep pleasure,
With a reminder of how small you are in the scheme of this world and universe.
The sense of awe dampens the heat of your worries and concerns,
And helps you to stop sweating the small stuff.
In this vista,
Everything is small stuff.
Before the afternoon sun becomes too intense,
You return home.
Your pup slows down,
And you adjust to their languid pace.
Pearly white shells scatter the beach,
And occasionally you come upon a sapphire or emerald piece of sea glass that you gather to add to a mason jar at home.
When the jar is full,
You use the unique pieces to create mosaics on tables and picture frames.
You leash your pup and ascend the wooden walkway that leads to town.
You walk down a residential street,
Where pastel-hued homes sit behind fences,
Weathered by saltwater air and humidity.
Spanish moss drapes over trees,
Offering shade from the afternoon sun.
The ethereal plant looks like a lacy shawl,
A crocheted blanket draped over the trees,
Leaving a soothing yet haunting image.
Natural gardens overflow with squash,
Tomatoes,
And okra.
Every garden and yard is decorated with marble fountains depicting angels and fairies,
Offering a sense of whimsy.
Many nights fireflies and twinkling lights illuminate the yards.
People gather on screened-in porches as mason jars clink and screen doors slam from children energetically running outside to enjoy the dip in temperature at night.
You can hear the faint echoes of these summer evenings past,
Conjured by beloved memories on this otherwise quiet afternoon.
Most people hide from the sun this time of day.
Enlounged by air conditioners,
Or beneath the shade of awnings,
The street turns onto a lane that winds around.
Your historic home faces west at the end of a cul-de-sac and overlooks the marshlands and the ocean.
A few puffy white clouds roll in and block the sun,
Offering a slight reprieve.
You open the ivory picket gate and walk beneath a trellis dripping in fuchsia beach roses.
The silky petals brush against your bare shoulders.
You unleash your pup and they run to the backyard to an outdoor pet fountain.
Your house is designed exactly to your predilections and at times takes your breath away with the same awe as the ocean.
That you were able to manifest this beautiful dwelling,
Accented in hues that soothe you and surrounded by views that feed your soul,
Grounds you in gratitude with roots that run deeper than those of the centuries old oak trees covered in Spanish moss.
You deserve this beautiful oasis,
Overlooking glassy water that acts as a mirror for the sky.
Hummingbirds flutter around the backyard,
Sipping nectar from feeders strung on the curlicues at the end of metal poles.
Lush flowers surround the backyard in pastel and vibrant hues and look like a resurrected Monet painting.
A toad hops across the thick green grass and your dog barks in its direction.
You walk to a strawberry patch and gather a handful of plump berries.
You snap a few pieces of mint from an herb garden,
Abundant with sage,
Basil,
Oregano and thyme.
Their perfume awakens your nose.
You run your fingers across the fuzzy sage leaves and inhale their herbaceous perfume.
Behind the garden is a one room cottage with French doors on two sides that open into the garden and offer the perfect cross breeze.
Two rocking chairs and a plush love seat furnish the room.
The walls are a soothing shade of sea green.
Wide stripes and vibrant summer shades of blue,
Green,
Yellow,
Orange and red,
Accent throw pillows and an area rug with feathery fringe.
You gather a crystal pitcher from a wooden shelf and place it on a resin countertop,
Embedded with pieces of sea glass.
You take a few lemons from a wicker basket and slice them on a cutting board.
You squeeze their juice into the pitcher and add sugar from a cobalt blue ceramic container sweetening to your preference before adding the hand picked strawberries and mint.
You take a wooden mortar and muddle the ingredients.
The fragrant mint,
Citrus and strawberries soothe you with their sweet and zesty aroma.
You add a few scoopfuls of ice from the ice machine on the counter and then fill the pitcher with water from a turquoise glass vessel sink.
You stir the contents with a wooden spoon as a funnel of green leaves,
Red berries and ice crystals swirl.
The open air cottage is the perfect place to leisurely spend the afternoon.
Ceiling fans circulate the air from an exposed wooden beam beneath the high A-frame ceiling.
Your dog lies on the cool blue tiled floor.
You pour a glass of lemonade into a mason jar and then place the pitcher in a mini fridge.
You then walk to your favorite rocking chair.
You sink into the woven seat and feel your muscles relax.
A plush striped pillow supports your lower back as you rock back and forth,
Sipping slowly on the icy beverage.
The liquid quenches your thirst and cools your throat as your pulse slows.
The hot afternoons of the low country give all the residents,
Both animal and human,
The permission to take it easy and align with the natural rhythm of the day.
You look out the French doors onto the garden and your grand home and the marshes.
The Spanish moss sachets on the breeze and the weeping willows rustle.
This one room garden cottage reminds you how basic your needs and desires truly are.
As grateful as you are for the enormity of this property,
You find the most pleasure in these moments of feeling good.
In the circulating air that kisses your dewy skin.
The reflection of the blue sky and cotton ball clouds on the silky water of the marsh.
And the sweet,
Sour and tingly expressions of the lemonade that coats your palate.
So many things are happening at any given moment,
Offering insights into the wonders of the human experience.
And when you slow down your mind and body,
You realize all there is to appreciate.
You rock back and forth and listen as your pup softly snores,
Napping on the tiles.
Something that makes you feel sleepy and long for a nap.
In the distance,
Lavender gray clouds lead an army of storm clouds that will arrive soon.
You remember the warning from Frischi.
A storm is on the way.
Before returning to the comforts of your home,
You close all the doors and windows of the garden cottage.
Your pup stirs and rises,
Stretching in a downward dog pose as they open their mouth into a big,
Infectious yawn.
Your yawn is soon to follow.
Your dog follows you through the backyard.
And you decide to wash away the salt of sweat and sea in the outdoor shower.
The exterior walls of the shower are made of ivory shingles.
Translucent glass rocks in hues of Caribbean blue,
Cerulean,
Teal and aquamarine dangle from support beams around the shower,
With wind chimes that create a soothing melody.
You turn on the shower to a lukewarm setting,
Comfortable and yet cooling.
Your dog patiently waits outside the shower door as you cleanse yourself with an herbaceous soap that tingles as the mint plucked from your garden.
You look to the sky and watch as more clouds roll in.
You turn off the shower and dry yourself with a plush towel kept in a wooden trunk that smells of cedar and lavender satchels.
You bury your face into the towel and sigh.
A shower on days like this feels like a second chance.
Your body becomes tired in the most pleasant way as you wrap yourself in a silky robe and slip your feet into your flip flops.
You carry your clothes and towel as you return home,
Your pup trailing behind like a shadow.
Your timing is perfect.
The sky is dark.
A thin line of peach sunlight cuts through the ominous purple and steely gray clouds that loom over the marsh and head east towards the sea.
A few miles away you see a bolt of lightning illuminate the sky and reflect on the tidal estuary.
You enter your home as the first fat drops of rain begin to fall.
The screen door creaks and you open the second heavy door behind it and step into the climate controlled air of the sprawling house.
The slight chill in the air feels good and makes you long to get cozy and enjoy a nap.
You remove your flip flops and walk through the spacious kitchen.
Your pup's nails click on the cool tiles while your feet quietly glide across them.
Your dog sits suddenly and their tail dusts the floor enthusiastically.
They look at the kitchen island where you keep a ceramic jar of dog biscuits on the granite countertop.
Their pleading eyes make you smile and you grab a dog biscuit from a ceramic cookie jar.
Your pup spins around,
Showing off their most energetic trick,
And you hand off the treat.
You leave your clothes and towel in a laundry room off the side of the kitchen.
You walk through the open dining room that leads to a screened in porch where memorable dinners and gatherings take place on balmy nights.
The house is lofty and spacious,
And walking through it gives one the sense of the grace and ease of a bird soaring above the ocean.
There is so much space,
Openness,
And light.
Sheer curtains cover the multi-paned floor to ceiling windows in common areas offering waterfront views.
You ascend a wide,
Winding staircase to the second floor where your bedroom suite awaits.
Each step makes you feel more and more tired.
You count each stare as you ascend.
One,
Two,
Three,
Four.
You listen as your pup charges ahead of you.
Your hand brushes over the glossy banister as you continue up.
Five,
Six,
Seven,
Eight,
Nine.
You arrive at the part of the staircase that winds around like the barrel of a wave.
Ten,
Eleven,
Twelve,
Thirteen,
Fourteen.
You come to the landing.
You walk down a wide hallway with linen-white walls decorated with nautical paintings that depict the low country.
They capture scenes of magenta sunsets setting on lava-like waves.
Starry nights with a silhouette of Spanish moss and weeping willows dancing on the breeze of a crescent moon perched in a starry sky above an endless glittering blue-black sea.
You open the double doors into your bedroom suite,
Greeted by a soft breeze from the bamboo ceiling plates shaped like broad leaves.
The ceilings are double your height.
Curtains flow around sliding glass doors that lead to a balcony.
You walk to them and step outside and sit on a porch swing.
Rocking back and forth,
You watch the storm travel over the acres of wetlands below.
The water reflects the burgundy-lined amethyst clouds that do their best to block the sun and claim the sky.
Thunder rolls in the distance and the rain falls harder,
Creating ripples in the satiny water.
From the opposite side of the balcony,
You can see the Atlantic in the distance.
The white caps of ocean waves reflecting what light of the day remains.
Your hands grasp the balcony rail and you enjoy the solid feeling of the painted wood.
At a time when the outside world is turbulent,
The wind whips palm fronds and cord grass into emerald waves.
Rain pelts on the balcony and you step inside before the winds shift direction and cause the rain to splatter against the sliding doors.
You seal the doors behind you and enjoy the patter of rain and the sound of rolling thunder from the haven of your room.
Your pup sits patiently at the end of the bed,
Waiting to be invited up and consoled during the storm.
You draw all the curtains closed and walk across a soft area rug to your furry friend.
The king sized bed frame is made of white washed wood that looks like driftwood.
A lustrous upholstered headboard rests against a wall painted in your favorite color.
The colors in the room soothe you and draw from scenes in nature that you most enjoy.
Whenever you are in this room,
You feel like the best version of yourself.
You feel safe.
Your guard is down.
And every smell and item in the suite evokes feelings of comfort,
Peace,
And equanimity.
You help your pup onto the Egyptian cotton duvet and pull back the covers.
You climb onto the sheet and relish the crisp cotton fabric that contrasts the silky,
Lightweight robe cinched around your waist.
As you settle into the mattress,
All pressure points on your body are supported.
You inhale the smells of fresh rain,
Salt water,
And clean linens.
Your head sinks into the pillow as the rain falls steadily on the skylights.
In your comfortable bed,
You watch the plum black clouds unleash rain as lightning illuminates the sky,
The thunder and rain create the perfect soundtrack for sleep.
Time becomes nebulous in the darkness of the storm.
And you begin to drift,
To float away,
To blissful sleep.
You notice the silent pauses between staccato drops and welcome the low bass drum sound of rolling thunder.
Your pet curls against your feet,
Comforted by you with a deep trust formed over a lifetime.
You feel safe,
Grateful,
And ready to welcome sleep.
The turbulent change in weather is a reminder that change is a natural part of life.
So often things may feel repetitive,
Or you may feel stuck.
But the weather is a reminder that nothing stays the same for long.
Your eyelids become as heavy as wet sand as you continue to drift and let go.
The cool sheets,
The air conditioned room,
And the darkness of the storm offer the perfect contrast to the heat and humidity of the afternoon.
Your body no longer works so hard to manage the heat and gratefully takes this moment for complete surrender.
As you float towards deep,
Healing sleep,
Finding bliss,
Finding peace,
Finding respite,
Finding grace,
Finding sleep.
It's time to dream away.
Good night.
