It's Friday night.
Five workdays, finished.
Let's go somewhere quiet.
Let your eyes close.
Get comfortable under the covers.
Notice the bed underneath you.
It feels a little softer than usual.
Softer still...
like it's filling with Your air.
shoulders go light first.
Then the rest of you follows.
This is a sleep You story.
don't have to do anything.
Just listen, and let it carry you.
If your mind wanders off...
that's fine.
The story will wait for you.
Take one slow breath in...
And let it long out...
and easy.
Now picture your room.
The dresser.
The dark window.
You're rising, very slowly.
Like a feather lifting on warm air.
The ceiling isn't there anymore.
Just the cool night air.
And the open sky above.
Your room gets small beneath you.
Then your street.
Porch lights in a neat little row.
Somewhere down there is today.
The meetings.
The inbox you never cleared.
From up here...
it all looks tiny.
Like a toy town.
It doesn't need you right now.
It'll be there in the morning.
Exactly where you left it.
Even the thing you're worried about.
From up here, you can barely see it.
Let it get smaller.
Let it get quieter.
You keep rising.
Until the lights are just freckles.
Under you now...
there's a cloud.
Thick and white.
Soft as fresh cotton.
You sink into it a little.
The way you sink into a fresh bed.
It gathers around your back.
And under your legs.
It's warm.
Warmer than you'd think a cloud could be.
And it holds you completely.
You can't fall through.
It's made to hold you.
Breathe in...
and feel the cloud rise a little.
Breathe out...
and feel it settle.
In again...
the cloud lifting you.
And out...
sinking deeper into white.
The cloud begins to drift.
So slowly you barely notice.
Below, a small town goes by.
One light on in a kitchen.
Everyone else asleep.
Then dark fields.
Rows of corn, silver in the moonlight.
A barn with its doors shut.
A pond holding a piece of the moon.
An owl calls once, far away.
Then the night is still.
The wind is soft up here.
It hums along the edge of the cloud.
A long gray road...
with a single car...
its headlights going home.
You watch it go.
You don't need to follow.
The cloud turns, very gently.
Like a boat on a slow river.
Past a line of low hills.
Past a lake, black and still.
Now the stars come out.
More than you've ever seen.
The cloud floats between them.
Quiet and slow.
A star slides across the sky.
Just a thin, quiet streak.
Then it's gone.
No one can reach you here.
The phone can't find you.
Nobody needs an answer tonight.
Not from you.
Your arms sink into the cloud.
Your legs sink in too.
Your face goes slack.
Your hands are open.
Breathing in...
And out...
The stars are warm and close.
Like lamps left on for you.
The wind is only a hush now.
The cloud barely moves.
The cloud is slowing now.
It comes to rest.
Right here.
Soft and warm still.
Stay as long as you like.
Goodnight.