Welcome,
My friend.
Tonight I'll be guiding you into rest,
Into warmth,
Into the gentle,
Quiet rhythm of sleep.
This story is about three snowy foxes.
Little foxes who sip tea with their parents,
Who sled down moonlit hills,
And who glide like dancers across a frozen pond.
As you listen,
You'll feel your own body growing softer,
Your mind growing lighter,
Until you drift into sleep,
Just like the foxes curling up safe in their burrow.
Let my voice be your trusted friend tonight.
You don't have to think,
Or try,
Or do anything at all.
Just let the sound of my voice carry you,
Like a lullaby made of words.
Before we begin,
Let's pause together.
Bring to mind one thing from your day that made you smile.
Maybe it was something small,
A warm drink in your hands,
The sound of laughter,
Or maybe the way the light fell through the trees.
See it now.
Let it rise up in your memory.
Notice the colors,
The sounds,
The textures.
What did the air smell like?
What did your body feel like in that moment?
Let the happiness of that memory fill you for a moment.
Let yourself savor it,
As if you are tasting it again,
Hearing it again,
Feeling it again.
And now,
Breathe in slowly,
And as you breathe out,
Let the memory go,
Like a snowflake melting on your hand.
Now,
Let's prepare your body for rest.
Take a slow breath in through your nose,
And sigh it out through your mouth.
Once more,
In through your nose,
Deep belly breath.
Breathe all the way into your belly,
And out.
Now,
Bring your attention down all the way to your toes.
Feel them soften.
Feel them grow heavy.
Move your attention to the bottoms of your feet,
Warm,
Loose,
Letting go.
Your ankles,
Easy,
Free,
Relaxed.
Your calves,
Melting like ice turning to water.
Your knees,
Steady,
Soft,
Without effort.
Your thighs,
Heavy now,
Sinking deeper into your bed.
Move your attention to your hips,
Letting go of all of the day's tension.
Safe,
Supported,
Grounded.
Your belly rises and falls,
Soft and calm.
Your chest,
Open and steady.
Your breath,
Flowing like a gentle tide.
Your heart,
Beating slowly,
Peacefully.
Your shoulders,
How much they've carried today,
But not now.
Now they drop,
Heavy,
At ease.
Your arms,
Elbows,
Wrists,
And hands,
Loose,
Still,
And resting quietly.
Your neck,
Free of tightness.
Your jaw,
Unclenched and your teeth separated.
Your cheeks,
Your eyes,
Your forehead,
Smooth,
Peaceful,
Calm.
Even the tiny muscles of your scalp,
Relax.
Your whole body is soft and heavy.
Your whole body is safe and warm.
There is nothing left for you to do.
Nothing at all.
Just rest.
Far away,
In a forest where the snow lies deep,
Three little foxes run beneath the moon.
Their fur is white as snow,
With silver tips at their tails that glimmer like starlight.
Each breath they take makes a tiny cloud in the frosty air,
And the world around them is so quiet.
So still that every crunch of their paws sounds like music.
At last they reach their burrow,
Hidden at the roots of an ancient oak tree.
The doorway is round and soft with moss,
And inside,
The glow of a lantern flickers gently.
Warmth spills out to greet them,
And the scent of berry tea drifts through the air.
Their parents are waiting.
The five foxes gather around a little table carved from an old tree trunk.
Steam curls upward from their cups.
They sip slowly,
And as the warm tea fills them,
Their paws and bellies glow with comfort.
The world outside is cold,
But here inside,
They are wrapped in safety and love.
When the tea is finished,
The young foxes can't sit still.
The snow is calling them.
By the door,
Their sleds are waiting,
Bright red,
Polished smooth.
They carry them to the top of the hill behind their burrow.
At the top,
They pause.
The hill stretches wide before them,
Bathed in silver light from the moon.
The trees stand silent.
The world is waiting.
And then,
Swoosh,
Down they go,
One by one.
Snow sprays behind them like glitter.
Their laughter echoes through the night,
Bright,
Joyful,
Filling the forest with life.
Again and again they climb,
And again and again they swoosh down,
Tails flying,
Eyes sparkling.
The hill carries them like a wave of snow,
Lifting them,
Sliding them,
Laughing with them.
At last,
Their paws grow cold,
And the foxes wander toward the frozen pond.
The ice glimmers like glass,
A mirror reflecting the stars.
They slip on their little skates,
Paws twitching with excitement.
At first,
They wobble.
But soon,
They glide.
The sound of their skates is like music,
Soft,
Rhythmic,
Whispering across the ice.
They twirl in circles.
They chase one another.
They spin beneath the moon.
Their silver tails swish behind them,
Painting patterns in the night air.
Snow begins to fall,
Slowly,
Gently.
Each flake drifting down,
Landing softly in their fur.
The stars above twinkle brighter,
As if they are smiling at the foxes below.
When they are tired,
The three foxes lie at the edge of the pond.
They look up at the sky,
Watching the constellations glow.
Shapes of animals,
Birds,
And foxes made of stars.
The world is silent.
The world is peaceful.
Sleep begins to find them,
Even there,
Under the sky.
But home is calling.
So they pad softly back through the snow,
Their paws leaving delicate trails behind.
Inside their burrow,
The lantern glows.
The nest of moss and feathers is waiting.
They curl up together,
Tails wrapped around one another.
Their parents nuzzle them close.
The den grows quiet.
And soon,
They are asleep.
Dreaming of sleds,
Of snowflakes,
Of stars above the frozen pond.
And now,
As you listen,
You too can rest.
You too can dream.
You are safe.
You are warm.
You are loved.
And sleep is here.
