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Welcome to get sleepy. The podcast where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy, as always, I'm your host, Thomas. Thanks for being here tonight and choosing get sleepy to help you drift off into a peaceful night's rest.
In this story, Teekay will be reading to us and will enjoy a lazy morning at home and all the simple pleasures that come along with it. This is another one of those stories without a plot. Well, we just enjoy an imaginative atmosphere and stir up some feelings of warmth and coziness, some sure you're going to love it. Before that, a big thank you goes out to Helix Sleep for their support of the show. If you've been thinking that you deserve a comfy new mattress when purchasing one from Helix, using our special promotion will not only be of great benefit to you, but supporting our sponsors is in turn another great way to support the podcast.
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Moving from the Wakeford state of mind into a restful, more relaxed place. So make sure you're lying comfortably in whatever position feels best for you right now. And just let your breathing fall into a consistent rhythm. Perhaps a little more drawn out, helping to bring a sense of calm to both body and mind. The day is done. There's nothing else that you need to do. So give yourself permission. To rest. And as you enjoy that feeling.
Letting go of the day. Breathing in a gentle, soothing rhythm. I just want you to think about a time that you remember when you enjoyed a really satisfying good sleep.
Maybe it was at night, maybe it was an unexpected or unintentional nap. And if a specific example doesn't come to the forefront of your mind, don't worry at all. Identifying an individual memory isn't the important part. But what we can all hopefully remember is that feeling that you get when you do indeed enjoy a really good restorative sleep. And with that, I want you to remember what you felt like when you woke up after that sleep. Perhaps refreshed, rejuvenated, ready and raring to go for the day.
And the day may have seemed a little brighter than usual in your morning routine south to the more vibrant and pleasurable. And what a satisfying feeling that is. Almost like a weight has been lifted. Filling you with joy, focus, positivity. And you may have felt a greater sense of your own self. Clarity of mind and body. These moments might be rare to some of us. But it makes them all the more precious when we do get to enjoy them.
And now it's just about time for me to hand over to T.K.. Regardless of whether the mourning rituals in this story are familiar to you or not. I hope this quiet morning will be restful, peaceful. And relaxing for you. Perhaps it will be something like your morning tomorrow. We'll start when you probably are right now at home, cozy and comfortable in the warmth of your bed. With the clock ticking. And the bedroom fan humming in the corner.
You become aware that you are waking up before you open your eyes. The familiar sounds of your space gather in your mind as you begin to stir. The ticking of the clock on the bedside table. The creaking of the radiator as it warms the room. The rustling of the cotton sheet as you move your legs beneath it. Slowly, you drift into consciousness as you take in the subtle noises of your environment. They bring with them the thoughts that often welcome you to a new day.
You hear the clock and wonder what time it is. The radiator makes you think about how nice it would be to curl up in a fuzzy robe with a cup of coffee. And the sheets feel smooth and airy against your skin, reminding you of a cloud. You stretch your legs out toward the end of the pad, feeling your muscles lengthen and then relax. A union makes its way from your chest to the back of your throat and then out of your mouth as you raise your arms above you.
Following the Yonnet, you take another deep breath to clear your hand and bring your hands to rest on your stomach. Your body welcomes the movement after so many hours in bed. You relish the sensation of your joints and tendons shifting and stretching. A pleasant tingling spreads through the muscles of your arms and legs, from your knees and hips to your elbows and fingertips. With a sigh, your body returned to being still and quiet. It sinks into the firm embrace of the mattress and you become aware of the points of contact that support you.
Or brief moment, you usually they're thinking of nothing, enjoying the act of simply existing in this time and place.
You bathe in a sense of calm that comes before the responsibilities of the day. After a while, you shift onto your side and let your teeth come to rest on the pillow. You notice how the side of your chest that isn't touching the pad expands freely with every breath you take. It would be nice to lay here all morning, you think, and perhaps you'll do that one of these days. But it's hard to resist the pull of a steaming cup of coffee.
So you swing your legs out of bed and plant your feet on the floor. Standing up, you adjust your body slightly as it remembers how to move about. It's sleepy, but you. But after a few tweaks this way and that and a little stretch here and there, it's ready to go. You pull on your robe, which you left draped over the chair in the corner. It's warmth, embraces you like a soft. Turning back to your bed, you tug on the topmost corner of your sheets and pull them taut over your pillow.
You move around to the other side, which is still rubbled from a night of sleep, you smoothen out and plump the pillow into shape. With your bed made, you stand back to admire the crisp lines for just a moment. If one corner isn't perfect, it doesn't bother you more than anything, you appreciate your bedroom being a place of true comfort and relaxation. As long as you feel safe and at home in this space and all is well.
You take a deep breath and ready yourself to head to other parts of the house where you'll truly begin your day. Your home is still tucked up tight for the night, though gentle rays of morning sun are peeking around the edges of the curtains and blinds. First, you pass through the living room touched with only the softest hint of ambient light. The walls still bare, a grayish brown of early morning shadows. The somber colors are punctuated by thin strips of yellow and white, where a stray bit of sun has found its way around the window coverings.
You walk over to the largest window and pulled back the curtains. In an instant, the room is awash in soft sunlight. Some of the light reflects off the glass, sending geometric waves across the ceiling and over the back of the furniture. With a satisfied sigh, you move into the kitchen. Just as you did before you pull back the curtains and let the cheerful light or in. Pools of yellow and gold shine on the floor and countertops. You extend a hand in front of you and move it from shadow to light, watching the beams play against the lines of your skin.
Tiny particles glisten in the air illuminated by the sun. For a moment, you watch them and flow as a barely detectable current, picks them up and carries them into the shadowed part of the room. You swish your hand through the sunbeam and watch the particles scatter with the movement. It's a simple game, moving your hand back and forth through the light, there are no rules to follow, no right and wrong, and yet it brings a smile to your face.
There is something uniquely charming about interacting with your own space in such a playful way.
You turn toward the coffee pot musing about the interplay between light and shadow that makes every morning familiar and yet special. And you know that by the time you turn back around again, the beam of light will have shifted slightly, perhaps from larger or smaller following the path of the sun across the sky.
At the counter, you click the button on your electric kettle to boil some water. Next, you open the container of beans and use a small scoop to retrieve the perfect amount. The pungent aroma delights your senses. You feel more awake just by smelling it. The beans are slightly oily, and if you stick together as you tap them into the grinder. You depress the button and with the rumble, it turns them into ground's. When you open the machine, the fragrance of the crushed beans floods the air.
Earthy and rich with a touch of acidity. You popped the bottom of the grinder to dump the grounds into the glass carafe and then you pour a stream of boiling water over the top. Perhaps you'll add a dash of cinnamon, too, for a little extra spice. You slide the mental filter into the pot and watch the water and grounds swirl together.
They remind you of dark and stormy seas turning round and round as waves crash above. While the coffee is sleeping, you feel a short green watering can you keep by the sink, it makes a deep and hollow sound as the first drop of crystalline water hit the metal bottom of the can. Before long, you can see the surface level rising nearly to the top. Carefully, you lift the can and tip the spout down toward the stem of a basil plant growing on the windowsill.
You watch the water flow out and pull slightly on top of the chocolate brown soil before seeping down around the root. You move on to the Woody Rose-Marie plant growing next to it and moisten the soil just enough so that a small puddle of water gathers beneath the ceramic pot. The stage is next with its silvery leaf. The fragrance of the herbs mixes in the still air of the kitchen and makes you think of all the wonderful meals you will cook with them.
Perhaps you'll even use some of them today. Once you are finished with the plants on the soil, you walk over to the stand by the living room window. Here you have your decorative flowers. You use a fingertip to check the dampness of the soil at the base of the last leaf. It's waxy red flowers and bright yellow stamens point toward the sunlight, through the glass. It doesn't need any water today, but you probably have to sprinkle it tomorrow.
Next, there's the green nesting pod holding a beautiful African violet. You pour the water carefully over this plant, making sure you don't splash the fuzzy emerald leaves. You've rotated the past well over the last several months. It's grown evenly in a perfectly compact bunch dotted with delicate purple flowers. The African violet is particular, and you have to care for it in its own special way. But you don't mind the best things come with a little time and love.
You finish up by wandering the group of succulence that live together on their own stand nearby. As always, you admire their hardiness. They were meant to survive in harsher climates and this and have thrived here in your home. With the plants cared for, you return to the kitchen to check on the progress of your coffee. It's ready to drink. You push down the filter, which compresses the grounds at the bottom of the glass, leaving only rich brown liquid on top.
From the cabinet, you choose your favorite mug with the handle that fits your fingers just right. You pour a silky stream of coffee into it, watching it gently slosh up the size of the mug until it finds its equilibrium. You add a dash of milk and some sugar and mix them up with a metal spoon. As you stir the top of the coffee resembles an Earth tone watercolour. Light and dark blend together is one. The tiniest whirlpool appears in the center of the liquid, circling the panhandle of the spool.
You pull the spoon out and tap it gently on the lip of the mark before setting it down in the sink. Lifting the cup to your mouth, you invite the rich scent of the coffee to wash over you. You breathe it in feeling it, invigorate your senses. The first sip doesn't disappoint. It's a little sweet, a little bitter and the perfect way to start your day. With the warm mug in your hands, you walk over to the back door.
You open it carefully, making sure not to spill your coffee and take a step onto the wooden porch. The beams beneath your feet creak slightly and a cool breeze touches your cheek. It's a refreshing temperature after the coziness of your home, a little brisk as the last hint of nighttime chill intermingles with the air that's already been warmed by the sun. Closing the door behind you, you set the smoke down on the small table under the awning. There's a wicker chair beside it with cloudy blue cushions that conform to the shape of your body as you sit down.
You put your feet up on the matching stool and relax your legs into a comfortable position. With a little moving back and forth, you settled in the chair and lean your head back until it supported. With both hands, you pick up the mark and hold it to your chest, it shares its warmth, you can feel it radiating through the fabric of your robe to your skin. Looking out, you take in the beauty of the garden in the early morning light.
It's softer than the direct midday sun and brings out the lighter hues in the flowers and plants. There are blush, pink roses kissed, eye drops of morning dew and lacy bunches of lilacs standing at attention nearby.
The blue dawn flower climbs its wooden trellis beside the aromatic honeysuckle, sweet and inviting. Deep green shrubs line, the garden wall shaded by the leafy boughs of a tall ash tree. A gentle breeze whispers through the leaves it carries with it and indistinct floral scent, the fragrance of each and every plant brought together in a wild potpourri. You breathe deeply, savoring the clean, fresh scent of a new day. Perched on one of the ashes, topmost boughs is a little brown songbird with a blaze of red on its chest.
It chirps melodically. You close your eyes and listen, allowing the lilting tune to carry you up into the branches of the tree. You imagine sitting there looking down on your garden from above, just like the little bird. Great splashes of color mingle with every shade of green like an artist's palette. And if you took flight, you would soar on delicate wings over the rooftops of your town. Reds, browns and grays would pass beneath you. You would be free to swoop up high into the robin's egg, blue of the sky, passing by fluffy white clouds.
The sun will shine on your feathers, showing the colors and greater relief. And then you dive back down, circling the home that is familiar to you. You glide on confident wings until you reach the ash tree in the garden. Once again, you come to us here on one of its topmost branches. You can almost feel the wind beneath you, even though you haven't left your cozy wicker chair on the porch. You open your eyes and are mesmerized once more by the vibrant colors all around you.
What a wonderful daydream, you think it's easy to get lost in thought with surroundings as inspiring as these?
Nature lends itself to the imagination, and this garden is no exception. You take another sip of your coffee and then set the mug down on the table. You rest your hands on your stomach and close your eyes. Your other senses take hold, bringing you the fragrance of the plants and flowers and the sweet song of the bird in the tree.
You take a deep breath and. And let it out, settling more fully into the chair. The sun peeks over the awning and touches your feet, warming them. It's a pleasant sensation leading you to stretch your legs out so more of your skin is in the path of the sun's rays. You are grateful to be in such a comfortable place. Safe and secure here at home. You have the time to relax with nowhere to be and nothing to do this morning.
And with that sense of ease and calm enveloping your body and mind, you drift off into another pleasant daydream.