Fall into a deep sleep as you relax and unwind in a bedtime story that will take you to the tree house by the sea.
As you find yourself in Madagascar,
You may surrender and reconnect with nature and with yourself in the safety of a dwelling in an ancient baobab tree,
Bringing together nature's wonder in the hollow of the ancient and revered tree.
You may safely fall asleep above the Indian Ocean and beneath the majestic African sky.
I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.
I am Michelle and as you are listening,
I wish for you to imagine my voice as that of a trusted guide who is here to simply remind you of the special powers that reside within your own imagination.
The author Alice Walker once said,
If you fall in love with the imagination,
You understand that it is a free spirit,
It will go anywhere and it can do anything.
As you listen,
You may untether the reins and allow your imagination to take flight.
And as the poet E.
E.
Cummings once wrote,
And down they forgot,
As up they grew.
Tonight you may remember what you have forgotten.
That you are in control of your thoughts and they inform your feelings.
So let's glide on the beauty of imagination before drifting across the bridge from your waking life to your dreaming and sleeping life.
Get comfortable in your bed,
Feeling heavy as you sink down and you can wiggle out any lasting impressions of your day.
Close your eyes and let your eyelids feel like cool heavy sandbags on your tired eyes.
Imagine your whole body is being soothed from head to toe,
Feeling release.
And you may visualize a linen covered storage box in your favorite pattern and color scheme.
And you may take in the deepest breath of the day and then blow out the air through your lips as if blowing through a straw right into that box.
You can see your breath like a fervent stream upon which all your thoughts and concerns and anxieties are traveling into the safety of the box.
Again inhale and maybe yawn,
Letting your belly rise before you blow out whatever else you are holding in your body,
Filling up that box.
And you may take the soft padded lid and place it on top of the box.
And all your worries and things that cannot be solved right now may be stored in this box as you visualize placing it on a high shelf where it may stay until the time is right.
Because the present moment is just for you to luxuriate and unwind as we embark on a vacation for the mind.
You may now imagine yourself coated in rays of deep honey tangerine sunlight that warms your face and illuminates strands of your hair as if they've been dipped in gold.
A gentle breeze blows and dry blades of thin feathered grass,
Tawny on top and green on the bottom.
Feel your bare legs and feet that are adorned in sandals.
In the distance you hear the rolling waves of the sea as they crash against the shore.
Shielding your eyes from the late day sun with your hand,
You can see the blue waters of the Indian Ocean in the distance.
There are smells that hit your nose and identifiable by a sweet earthiness.
They are new to you and uniquely found only in Madagascar.
The island of Madagascar,
Located off the coast of East Africa,
Is situated in the Indian Ocean with over 90% of its wildlife found nowhere else in the world.
And this leads to a sense of discovery as you find yourself among towering baobab trees that line a dirt road that leads to your accommodations.
These trees are ancient,
Some as old as 3000 years,
And have trunks thick enough to serve as homes,
Reaching high into the sky before wide branches of lush green leaves appear like clouds of foliage against the deep blue sky.
In arid climates like Madagascar,
The trunks store water while the very tops are ideal for nesting.
The myth surrounding the baobab is that the tree was taken from the earth and then replanted upside down so that the roots are what spans towards the sky above.
The bark has healing properties for stomach ailments,
And its leaves and fruit have been considered a treatment for almost any disease.
It is no wonder this tree has been referred to as the Tree of Life.
The baobabs are sacred and revered.
You follow the path as it leads you closer to the sea,
As the sun is lowering and native birds sing out in song,
Singing praises for another day.
As you feel the same sense of gratitude and ease as the heat of the day is beginning to break,
You turn on a path that comes upon the gated property where you are staying.
You pull back a rustic gate,
Careful to avoid the splintering wood,
And find a pathway surrounded by a garden.
There are orchids and shades of fuchsia and the iconic white Darwin's Orchid that almost appears like a flower from another planet,
With its sharp points that form a star and a center petal that is like a flowing white bridal veil.
The air is redolent,
With a blended perfume of these exotic flowers that remind you of cooked raspberries and coconut and sour green apples.
You reach down and touch the delicate and tiny petals of the Madagascar Periwinkle,
Which feel like small patches of silk,
And are a vibrant pink and a pastel violet blue.
You smile involuntarily as your lips are relaxed and spontaneously curve upwards towards the deep fiery orange orb of the sun that is beginning to set.
You cannot believe the magic of this late day,
As it all feels so new and yet at the same time connects with you deeply in the way you felt wonder as a child.
Watching as a fuzzy bumblebee sip nectar from a flower.
You continue past the garden to see a ring-tailed lemur with her baby running across the property.
She pauses curiously to meet your gaze,
And while you are both tepid with one another,
There is a mutual respect.
Her eyes like large copper coins are made dramatic by markings like thick black eyeliner.
Her petite face is taupe with white and grey markings.
Her tail puffs out in excitement in smoke and charcoal-hued rings as her tiny baby grasps firmly onto her back.
People come from all over the world for a chance to come face to face with a native lemurs and you are awestruck to have this chance.
You hear her gentle purr before she dashes across the property,
Cast by the glow of the sun.
The sky is now cast in brush strokes of magenta and melon and lavender as the day is coming to an end and you continue to the narrow path that brings you to a hill overlooking the aquamarine waters of the Indian Ocean.
And atop this hill is a baobab tree that has been fashioned into a treehouse that defies even the most imaginative of your childhood visions.
It is a creation combining nature's finest design with the craftsmanship of locals,
Cast as a silhouette against the setting sun over the ocean.
It reaches to the flowing saturated reds and pinks and oranges of the sky as if a high-rise building,
Seemingly taller than any tree you have encountered on its own,
Standing solo and alone and not part of a forest.
The lower part of the trunk has been partially hollowed out with an entryway that is carved in the shape of an arc.
The baobab has been able to survive and live in spite of this,
As the thick bark and layers of cambium remain.
Decades ago,
The tree was salvaged from a decaying core and fashioned into the treehouse that stands today.
The home has multiple levels,
With outer decks connected with spiral staircases,
With polished driftwood railings.
And from these decks,
A solo swing hangs with thickly braided rope and a netted hammock fabric that has been hand dyed in shades of indigo.
You walk towards the swing and a small mosaic table in cool blue and aquamarine tones,
With the legs made of twisted wood.
You walk towards the swing and a small mosaic table.
The table top is in cool blue and aquamarine tones,
And its legs are made of twisted wood.
Above the table is a cold glass bottle covered in condensation as beads of water drip down it.
It is your favorite sweet beverage.
And next to it is a note from the host,
Hand written upon stationary with letterhead,
That shows a sketch of the treehouse.
Your name is elegantly written along with a message.
We are so very happy to receive you.
May you enjoy the magic of the night.
You take the bottle and walk towards the hammock swing,
Allowing the netting to wrap around you in a welcome embrace.
Your body feels tired and is sore in a gentle way that pleases you,
As it is but a reminder of the great adventures beneath the hot sun that brought you to this reprieve at the end of the day.
The breeze off the ocean is soft and cools you like a salty salt.
As a gentle mist hits your face,
As you sink into the swing and surrender,
The sun is nearing its exit point,
Meeting the placid sea and plum haze that forms along the horizon.
You bring the icy glass bottle to your lips,
Feeling the drops of condensation that you relish before sipping the sweet beverage.
It flows down your throat and cools you like a gentle waterfall suddenly discovered in the depths of a humid rainforest.
You swing back and forth,
Rocking and sighing and letting go.
The sky begins to darken and the moon begins to glow like a perfect swirl of buttercream frosting cast against the lush and velvety plum black sky.
The stars come out,
Sparkling as they do,
More vibrantly than you ever recall as fireflies take to the sky,
And in the blear of your tired,
Happy eyes,
It feels like a rain of gold and silver glitter are showering upon you as you continue to swing.
You allow yourself to drift into a dreamy state,
With your vision so relaxed and blurred.
It is hard to differentiate between the fireflies around you and stars up above to the point it feels for a moment you are floating through outer space.
You take another sip from the bottle as the glass softly clinks against your teeth and breaks you out of the Madagascar spell for the moment.
You rise and let your feet balance upon the solid earth,
Ready to enter the treehouse for a night of slumber.
Iset the bottle upon the table and walk towards the archway of the treehouse that is now set aglow by strings of solar powered lights that wrap around the decks overhead and flow from the railings in loose strands like illuminated willows of a weeping willow tree.
You watch as the lights flow in the ocean's breeze before you enter the cavernous trunk of the tree.
Outside of the tree the air is a bit dry and you smell the sweet wood.
The first floor houses a kitchen with a modest fire pit in the center that is full of tinder.
The walls of the tree's interior are adorned with paintings of Madagascar,
Capturing images of the rainforest and open fields and scenes from the sea.
And there is a spigot found within the wall where water flows from the inside of the tree and you touch the wood around it to feel it is soft and damp.
Whereas other parts of the tree are rock solid and smooth.
A collection of seashells sits in a bowl atop a mosaic counter that matches the nautical table outside and you come to it and run your fingers along the pattern.
The rich blues and greens remind you of a mermaid's tail and the colors of the Indian Ocean that are ever changing throughout the lighting of the day.
You touch the seashells,
Enjoying the sensation of their ridges and designs as they feel cool in your hands.
And next to the bowl of shells is a basket of sweet delicacies that smell of Madagascar vanilla and also a few pieces of the baobab fruit.
The fruit is firm like a coconut and you open it to find white chalky pods within that are dry and yet taste quite sweet.
You feel tired and welcome the light snack,
Allowing it to satiate you.
And as you nosh on the snack,
You close your eyes and relish the feeling of safety within this tree that is larger than the bedroom you had as a small child.
It leaves you with a sense of wonder and pleasure to be in this magical tree that has weathered centuries and still stands strong and resilient.
It is as if its hollow imparts all the energy and history of those who came before you and thrived and cast their own mark on history.
And here,
This baobab tree,
So ancient,
Stood as witness to it all.
And it stood here alone,
Strong and independent.
And it makes you feel your own ability to rise and be proud and strong on your own.
You feel reverence and gratitude as you reach for the wooden ladder that runs up the inside of the tree and leads you to the second floor.
Your strong hands grasp each rung as you ascend higher and higher up.
The sounds of the sea and insects and frogs all marry into a nighttime orchestra that increases in volume when you arrive to the open air dwelling on the second floor.
Dimly lit by the sparkling strings of lights,
The fireflies and stars are like an extension of these tiny glowing orbs,
As once again you feel as if you are out travelling through another galaxy.
You walk towards the deck that overlooks the ocean to discover an open air shower with a rain shower head.
There is a small,
Rustic cubby upon which fresh towels and a linen robe are folded neatly.
And there is a hand-woven basket of homemade soap made of shea butter,
Cut like pats of butter.
Next to the shower is a room made of bamboo walls that houses the commode for privacy.
Yet there is not a soul in sight and the sense of solitude makes you feel calm and free.
Your independent inner voice rises up.
The same one that relished time as a child when you were unsupervised and could do whatever your heart desired without the judgment or scolding of others.
You turn on the shower,
Removing your clothes,
And allow the warm droplets to fall upon your face,
Washing away the dried salt from the sea and afternoon sweat,
And the dust and dirt that your body has collected on your exploration of the island.
The shower water falls through the cracks of the wooden floor.
You take the shea butter soap and let it lather on your face and your body,
Massaging it in as you cleanse yourself and inhale its sweet fragrance.
The soap creates scents that wash away as you let your face feel the water cascade upon you as if standing outside in a rainstorm on a summer's night.
You turn and let the water massage your back as you look out onto the Indian Ocean.
Now a vast black mass with strands of silver made from cresting waves beneath the starry night's sky.
You take in this luxurious sensation,
So simple and rustic and yet more fulfilling and memorable than the fanciest of hotels.
You turn off the shower,
Feeling cooled by the night's breeze as you grab the towel and bury your face in it,
Before toweling off the rest of your body.
You wrap it tightly around your head and take the soft linen robe and put it on,
Cinching the belt around your waist.
The fabric floats upon your soft skin,
Dancing in the gentle breeze as you come to the second set of spiral stairs.
Your hand feels the slick twisted driftwood of the railing,
Bracing it as you ascend higher and higher up.
Now seeing the canopy of branches and deciduous leaves that rustle in the breeze.
The lace like silhouette of the leaves of the baobab moves ever so slightly to reveal the stars above.
You come to the third floor of the tree house to find a four poster bed that is also made of driftwood and is surrounded by a white mosquito net.
The bed faces the ocean and a part of the deck that juts out above the water below.
And when you stand at the railing of the deck,
It feels as if you are out at sea,
In the middle of the ocean as you look down at the dark waves below.
The crescent moon has faded to a silvery white as the sky is now midnight black and the stars are twinkling on.
You close your eyes for a moment and listen to the rustle of the trees and the continuous sea and you feel respect for the timelessness of this moment.
Everything that captures your attention has existed long before you and will continue long after you are gone.
And you just feel like a lucky passenger on this journey through time and space,
Disconnected from any problems and anxiety as they all seem so small and temporary in light of all that has endured as long as the baobab tree and the Indian Ocean and the crescent moon above.
You are merely a witness of splendor and standing on this balcony overlooking the vast landscape below.
You make a conscious choice to remember this feeling and return to it whenever you feel overwhelmed or stressed.
Whenever you feel tempted to open up the box of concerns and worries and address them.
Or you may find they no longer serve you and are best left alone.
Because what serves you most is this sensation and trust that you too will endure on.
That you are strong and resilient as well.
And most importantly,
You are imaginative and can reimagine the beauty of the Indian Ocean.
The interaction with the lemur and her baby.
The sound of the leaves rustling overhead.
The energy of the ancient tree that for tonight is offering you shelter and respite.
And in this resplendent state,
You feel an internal peace as you sigh and walk towards the bed.
You pull back the mosquito net and climb upon the tall bed,
Allowing yourself to go beneath the soft cotton sheets that smell fresh and clean.
You adjust the sheets around you and the mosquito net,
Feeling that you are safe and encapsulated in the perfect pod for dreaming.
Feeling so close to the stars that you may see above you and around you.
Feeling secure and safe upon the bed.
You are thankful for this safety and comfort,
Knowing how rare it was for those who occupied Madagascar for centuries before you.
You feel so grateful to be alive in a time and place in history when such luxuries are afforded and will not go unnoticed by you.
For come morning,
You may take the time to remember all the pleasures and privileges that are afforded by advances from innovators over time.
And even while the moments of today that most warmed your heart are indeed timeless,
You make peace with all that will fade and drift away in this life and you recognize what still will remain.
Your imagination.
Your inner voice.
The thread of you that has existed through time since your earliest of memories and experiences to the present moment and to the you that you will one day become.
Knowing that the more you keep open the imagination,
The more you may dream of a life that fulfills you and the more you may solve problems with ease.
Atop the tree house,
Nestled safely in the bed between the sea and the sky,
You may drift and let go of my voice.
You may softly float across the bridge to your dreaming life.
As softly as the breeze that drifts from the Indian Ocean.
As soft as the fur upon the baby lemur's back.
As soft as your skin after an outdoor shower made luxurious by shea butter soap.
As soft as the whispers of Madagascar that urge you to let go.
To be in the moment.
To see what is all around you.
To feel the softness of the breeze.
The softness of the night.
The softness of the cushions of sleep and surrender and dreams that await you.
I am going to count you down to the restorative and beautiful dream filled sleep that is rightfully yours and that you deserve.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Finding release.
Finding peace.
Finding sleep.
It's time to dream away.
Good night.
