Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - A Dreamy Visit to Angel Island

Starting point is 00:00:00 Hey friends, for the best Get Sleepy experience, be sure to check out our supporters feed Get Sleepy Premium for our free listening weekly bonus episodes and access to our entire catalogue. Now, a quick word from our sponsors who make the free version of this show possible. Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy. My name is Thomas and I want to thank you for listening. Tonight a reef will be sharing a story with you beautifully written by Layla, about a man in search of his past. A man on a pilgrimage to rediscover the haunts of his early years, and reconnect with his childhood self.

Starting point is 00:00:58 I hope the first week of the new year was a positive one for you. You may have set some new intentions. You may have already broken some of them, but that doesn't mean you can't try again. Or you may have felt quite content to continuing just as you are, and that's perfectly fine too. Now I don't know about you, but I certainly struggle with that initial few days of life going back to normality after the festive period. It certainly takes me some time to transition back into routine. But I think it's important that we're

Starting point is 00:01:46 patient with ourselves in that sense. So if you've found the start of this year challenging in some ways, don't worry one bit. You won't be the only one, and it doesn't mean that it's how things are going to continue. You've just got to gradually find your groove. Perhaps you could try some new things, like joining a class or club, reading a new book, or learning a new scale. Small changes or extensions to our usual routines and habits can really help us to feel inspired and refreshed. And of course, a good night's sleep is also going to help us feel both inspired and refreshed. So make sure you're nice and comfortable in bed. Draw in a deep breath.

Starting point is 00:02:57 Holding it at the top for a couple of seconds. Then gently breathe back out. As you breathe in again, try to draw any tension you feel into the shoulders, squeezing them up towards your neck. Then release as you breathe out. If it helps, then with your next exhale, imagine all that bundled tension in your shoulders, rolling down through your body, all the way to your feet, and out through the tips of your toes. bit by bit, let go of tension, let go of anything holding you back from relaxation and rest. You can continue to breathe deeply this way for as long as you like. Meanwhile, open up your mind to the story of a man named Merrick, and his yearning to revisit the places he moved away from years ago. We'll join him on his journey to beautiful The water. The water. The

Starting point is 00:05:05 water. The water. The water. The water. The

Starting point is 00:05:13 water. The water. The water. The water. The

Starting point is 00:05:21 water. The water. The water. The water. The water. The water. The water. The Merrick stood on the shore and looked at the bulk of the green, hilly island in the blue water directly in front of him. Driving here, it had looked improbably close. So close that it was hard to believe he'd need to board a boat in order to reach it. But now here he was on the shore.

Starting point is 00:05:56 And a relatively narrow but deep channel did in fact separate him from the island. He was waiting for the fairy boat to carry him across the channel. Boats headed to and fro through sparkling blue water that was. He knew much colder than it looked. After all, this was the San Francisco Bay, fed by the icy waters of the Pacific and swept by ocean winds. Merrick was in the Bayfront town of Tiburon, a short drive north of San Francisco, and the place in front of him was Angel Island. It was the largest of several islands in the bay. He had been there before, but not for decades.

Starting point is 00:07:15 Not since he was in search of something. He was after a memory. He was on a mission to pin down and recapture the hazy and elusive but very happy memories from his early childhood. He had vague recollections of sun-shiny days on Angel Island in the company of long ago companions of long ago companions and loved ones. These recollections were part of the fabric of his time in San Francisco. He had lived in San Francisco during his early years, before his life changed and his family moved along. He'd gone on to live his life elsewhere and he'd always had much to be grateful for. But a slight sense of loss had accompanied him. And recently, he'd been driven by a hankering to rediscover that early part of his life. A time at once barely remembered

Starting point is 00:08:59 and also tremendously formative for him. This city was always sunny in his memories, which was odd since San Francisco was renowned for its fog. Perhaps long days outside during good weather were simply the parts he remembered best. Or perhaps, he just hadn't minded the chilly grey days so much as a child. At any rate, sunny recollections of Golden Gate Park and Baker's Beach of Hate Street and San Francisco's Chinatown had danced in his mind with increasing frequency lately. And maybe most of all, his mind was haunted with blurry memories of trupping around a hilly, tree-filled island with a collection of playmates and parents from his playgroup. That island he knew was Angel Island. In his memory, it swam as large as a county

Starting point is 00:10:33 and as tall as a mountain. But he knew that in reality, it was only somewhere around six miles in circumference. The memories and the hankering to chase them down had finally led Merrick to return to San Francisco. And now to Angel Island for the first time after so many years. The opportunity had come in the form of a layover on a trip he needed to take elsewhere. But it felt predestined and almost inevitable when he extended the layover to spend three days in this place of his very early youth.

Starting point is 00:11:37 Standing now on the waterfront of this small affluent town, Merrick surveyed the scene in front of him. It was a warm, bright day with no fog in sight. And the island sheltered the shore from whatever wind was blowing through the golden gate. The blue sky was nearly cloudless, and the water reflected back its bright hue in a murky or blue green. Sunshine glinted off the slightly choppy water, where little white gaps attested to a breeze blowing offshore, and gave a hint of the deceptively cold currents within. White sails and wooden hulls glinted and glimmered everywhere on the water, as sailboats

Starting point is 00:12:48 cruised through the channel. Between them, speedboats hurried on their way, and cutting across all of their paths, a small-ish ferryboat plowed sideways over the channel, headed for the dock. Pelicans and seagulls floated and dove overhead. head. The boats and the birds created a pleasant sense of bustle on the water, like an aquatic main street, and that friendly bustle was mirrored here on land, or a small town cheeriness pervaded. Bicyclists coasted by following a path that snaked along the shore, edged by green grass. A large family emerged from a shop nearby, holding ice cream cones piled high with scoops of various, rightly colored flavors. The fairy boat was closing in on the dock now. Some Merrick, shoulder to his day back, and headed towards the gate, where passengers were

Starting point is 00:14:32 lining up. The boat was tall and rectangular. It rode high out of the water, looking more like an oversized toy tugboat than an actually sea worthy vessel. It was the least streamlined boat he could imagine, with its square front, that betrayed a supreme acceptance of its slow and plotting pace. But in fact, it was perfectly adapted for its purpose. The slow pace would allow passengers to sit or stroll about its decks without worry. And the lack of speed was ideal for spotting birds or sea animals, as well as for snapping crisp photos of the scenery.

Starting point is 00:15:48 The gate swung open, manned by a fairy worker with the cap stuck at an angle on his head. Merrick followed the line forward and presented his ticket. Making his way down the gang plank, he dredged his memory for recollections of taking the ferry to the island. But he couldn't find any. But he couldn't find any. However, he did remember other boats that had carried him to other destinations. He recalled taking a ferry from San Francisco to the East Bay with his family. He could bring up an image of it in his mind's eye. He could picture the boats interior where there were diner-like booths and seats. And he could picture its decks where he had liked to pier out at the water.

Starting point is 00:17:15 Cheafly, he remembered getting to order a hot chocolate on that ferry. the cocoa was a watery affair in a paper cup, but it had nonetheless been a great and much coveted luxury. When he entered this ferry, though, he saw that there were no refreshments for sale. And this wasn't actually surprising, as the trip to the island took only 15 minutes. Hardly time to bother with beverages or snacks. But even his fairy memories were not from those playgroup trips to Angel Island. This fairy looked much like the others he recalled, just a bit smaller. Like he would have done as a child, Merrick mounted the steep staircase to the open deck. He felt as eager as a little kid to look out at the view and to feel the breeze kick up as the boat started into motion. He secured a spot by the railing at the front of the boat. To be honest, there wasn't much competition for it.

Starting point is 00:19:08 Many of the older passengers were apparently content to seat themselves on the wide benches. But a pair of children, about ten years old, he thought, joined him in the bow, along with a man holding a toddler. As the boat started up, the toddler squealed happily and giggled. Merrick smiled at the tot's excitement over their slow speed. Yet, he himself felt a surge of excitement as they mutored sedately out into the bay. The sparkling waves and the bright sunshine, the breeze and the bustling boats filled him with the sense of vitality. It felt wonderful to be alive and in this beautiful place. Already, he felt he was finding and reconnecting with that small child deep inside him. The child who had rejoiced in those play-filled adventures and carried their memory with him through the years.

Starting point is 00:20:54 The golden gate bridge loomed beyond the edge of the island, red orange and iconic against the backdrop of the open ocean. Merrick snapped photographs, feeling as gleeful as a tourist, citing a revered landmark for the first time. He heard one of the children nearby call out and turned his head to see a seal swimming along beside the boat. It was looking at them from curious eyes in its little, whiskered face. It watched them so intently that Merrick couldn't resist waving to the animal. The seal escorted them for a bit longer before ducking under the waves and disappearing. The captain of the boat, speaking over a loud speaker, informed the passengers that riders, sometimes sighted porpoises, or even an occasional humpback whale.

Starting point is 00:22:31 Merrick scanned the horizon, but he didn't catch sight of any whale spouts. The captain was continuing, however. She announced that the narrow channel they were crossing to reach Angel Island was called Raccoon Strait. It was named for the HMS Raccocoon, she said, a British warship that was damaged in the ocean off the Northern California coast in the year 1814. The slupe managed to stay afloat and struggle into the bay, where it landed at Angel Island to make repairs.

Starting point is 00:23:32 The ferry ride was lovely, but short. Soon, they were approaching the island, motoring slowly into a picturesque cove, where a tiny marina arbored numerous small boats. The fairy boat docked, and perfect for exploring by bike. Maybe he'd come back and rent a bike next time he thought. But in his memories, they had walked or run as small kids will do. And so, today he would walk, too. He stepped out onto the short dock and was quickly unsure. He looked around and a flood of familiarity coerced through him, like a warm beverage, heating him comfortably from the inside.

Starting point is 00:25:16 It was even more familiar than he had hoped. He lacked any conscious memory of the topography, but muscle memory led him straight to a cafe, a little way along the shore of the gauve. He felt with certainty that you could get an It's It here. A crunchy cookie and ice cream sandwich made in San Francisco. At least you could get an It's It if you or your grown-up were willing to shell out the high prices, typical of concessions, in places with captive audiences, such as this one. And here he recognized one of the advantages of being an adult now. Even as he chased that distant little boy he'd once been, pulling out his wallet, Merrick headed confidently inside and then stopped.

Starting point is 00:26:45 Would they still sell its its so many years later? He almost walked back outside, not wanting to disturb his memory of the way things had been. But instead, he stood firm and looked around. To his relief, he quickly spotted an ice cream freezer. Sure enough, inside were the longed for treats of his childhood recollections. A choice of vanilla or mint ice cream sandwiched between two oatmeal cookies covered in chocolate. Merrick opted for mint and headed to the counter to pay. He was almost attempted to tell the friendly woman working the cash register that he was returning here after so long, a local son coming home.

Starting point is 00:28:10 However, he satisfied himself with a brief but sociable chat, keeping his mission and his reminiscences for himself. Then he walked outside and took a seat at a table in front of the cafe. The rapper on his ice cream sandwich declared proudly that it was San Francisco's tradition since 1928. Well, he hadn't been here that long ago, but it certainly was a tradition he was happy to be a part of. He tore the wrapper open and lifted the treat to his mouth. The coldness of the ice cream and its sweet, minty smell struck his nostrils. He took a bite. He took a bite, and the taste was that of remembrance and innocence and pure joy. Savoring the long forgotten flavors, he opened a pamphlet about Angel Island and began to read. The island got its name,

Starting point is 00:29:51 he read, from a Spanish lieutenant who visited it in the late 1700s. On a mission to map the San Francisco Bay. On a mission to map the San Francisco Bay. This lieutenant followed a custom common among Catholic European explorers at the time. He called the island after the religious day, closest to the time his ship arrived there. And so the location went down on his map as Isla de los Anhelas, island of the angels, or angel island. And Merrick looked up from his reading and surveyed the gauve. Sailboats and motorboats were moored in the small marina, and a smattering of others were anchored offshore.

Starting point is 00:31:01 On the other side of raccoon straight, the hills of Tiburon were green, with houses nestled in amongst the vegetation. Farther away, other towns boasted similar hilly waterfronts. They evoked images in his mind of Italian villages and Mediterranean seasides. It was an idyllic scene and not one he remembered at all from childhood. His young self would have been occupied with exploration and discovery, with finding sticks and racing companions, not with views. And so, again, there were rewards in growing older, he thought. Feasting his eyes on the exquisite panorama between the view and the rediscovered pleasure of his childhood favorite treat. It might have been tempting to stay and lounge in his seat. But Merrick was fueled by his purpose and the rediscoververy of these memories spurred him onwards with heightened enthusiasm.

Starting point is 00:32:51 It was like walking into the past, or like swimming into the warm waters of the past, he thought. Those early memories were so elusive and yet so all-encompassing that entering into them felt like immersing himself and floating off. So when he finished eating and reading, he rose from his table. He deposited his wrapper in a trash can and struck out for the main path that led to the rest of the island. As he walked, he became aware of being more relaxed than he could remember feeling in a very long time. He felt as though he'd been carrying a burden so long that he'd stopped noticing it until it was lifted from him. He felt light but also pleasantly grounded. The warmth of memory and the brightness of childhood seemed to surround him, nuzzling him. He thanked himself silently for allowing

Starting point is 00:34:32 himself this return to his past. The main trail he was following now, turned and led uphill. He knew, without remembering quite how he knew that this would lead him part way up the hill, he hesitated, should he turn right or left. But he wavered only a moment before turning right, comfortable in the knowledge that he would circle all the way around and come back to his starting point, whichever way he went. Trees and bushes lined the road on either side. As a result, the sunny walk was punctuated with periodic shade. This kept his walk comfortable, as he stepped in turn into warming sunshine and through cooling patches of shade. He gazed around at the profusion of vegetation as he walked. The variety of plants

Starting point is 00:36:11 showed that many of them were native. For this much diversity suggested an ecosystem in balance. an ecosystem in balance. And indeed, he spotted native oak, bay, and madrown trees as well as sagebrush and man's aneda. They were also scattered eucalyptus, Monterey pine, Douglas fir, and other plants brought from elsewhere. Between the leaves and branches, he could see the shimmering blue of the San Francisco Bay and the hills of the land beyond. As he strolled, Merrick's mind wandered back to what he'd read about this island. People had been visiting this place for at least 2,000 years, it read.

Starting point is 00:37:29 Native Californians had long used it for seasonal hunting and gathering, beginning with the coast mewak people. The mewak made boats from reeds that could carry them short distances, although the craft would become waterlocked if taken for longer trips. Using long poles and paddles to move the boats along, the meawak traveled to the island. There they set up camps at various coves. They fished and hunted land and sea animals as well as various birds. They also gathered shellfish and acorns, along with roots and leaves that grew in the area.

Starting point is 00:38:37 Later inhabitants made use of the island in other ways. Russian hunting expeditions visited in the early 1800s and set up a storehouse. A few decades later, the Mexican commander in charge of California granted a rancher the right to raise cattle on the island. Walking along, Merrick pondered the many people who had walked this way before him. How were their lives different from his own, he wondered, and how were they similar? Were their hopes and their feelings much like his own? Up ahead now, there stood a somewhat dilapidated red building overlooking another cove. A sign nearby indicated that the old building at once been part of a military outpost known as camp Reynolds. Black and white photographs on the sign showed the campus it was more than a hundred years ago, along with its residents, soldiers

Starting point is 00:40:18 in uniform, wives and children in old-fashioned clothing. Merrick read that the US military established camp rentals during the American Civil War. He learned that the island was used for numerous military purposes. From then until the middle of the 20th century, when it became a California state park. After camp Reynolds, the road Merrick was walking along turned and curved. He followed its contours towards another military remnant, the remains of an old cannon battery that once surveyed the mouth of the bay. As Merrick approached this point, he was struck by a marvelous vista. He emerged onto a point of land with an open view across the bay and out the golden gate. the Golden Gate. The panorama was breathtaking to his right, the Golden Gate led from the bay

Starting point is 00:41:52 to the Pacific Ocean beyond. Suspended across it, the iconic orange red bridge connected San Francisco to the greener hills of Marin County. Straight ahead of him, the street lined hills and the buildings of the city rose out of the clittering bay. Here again, boats dotted the water. And just to his left, the smaller island of Alcatraz was in sight. A fresh breeze blew in from the ocean and Merrick stretched inadvertently as he filled his lungs with the cool air. He stood a long time just relishing this stunning scene. Then, at last, he stepped forward and looked over the edge of the viewpoint. Down at the hillside, that dropped away towards the water below. There, halfway down the hill, he saw old cement bunkers. Those were the remnants of the canon fixtures that it stood here.

Starting point is 00:43:40 Merrick hadn't remembered much about Angel island's history from his childhood visits, but this was one view that sparked a jolt of memory. He recalled the boyhood joy of running through these bunkers, jumping from their steps, discovering their little dugout rooms and hidden passageways. Bunkers were secret forts come to life and a child's dream to explore. He was deep in the haze of these memories when someone came up near him, also contemplating the view. He turned slightly and saw a woman about his own age. This, in itself, was nothing surprising. But there was something about the woman.

Starting point is 00:44:53 It felt as though she belonged in the hazy memories he'd just been inhabiting. And that was surprising. Merrick did his best not to stare at the woman as he tried to place what it was about her that felt so familiar. She turned then and looked at him out of eyes shaded by a San Francisco Giants baseball cap. His gaze, sideways though it was, must have attracted her notice, and then she spoke in a friendly voice, commenting that this was quite a view. She never grew tired of it, she said. Merrick agreed, turning to face her fully, and added that he hadn't seen it in decades.

Starting point is 00:46:09 Then the woman cocked her head slightly and the polite friendliness on her face morphed into a puzzled expression. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him more closely. Then turned away, before turning back to examine him again. The sense of familiarity was even stronger now, and Merrick was beginning to locate it within the jumble of his recollections. Taking a small step towards him, the woman asked hesitatingly if they knew one another. and Merrick slowly nodded, I think so. A girl's face, while remembered from faded photographs, had taken shape in his mind. That girl had been a frequent playmate and close friend during his young childhood.

Starting point is 00:47:30 And this woman's face held the echo of that little girl. Uncertain whether it was truly her, but increasingly convinced it might be, he spoke her name aloud. Astonishments spread across the woman's features, followed by recognition and delight. She uttered his name too, and they began talking at once, asking after one another, trying to cover years of time in a moment. Then they both laughed at the coincidence of meeting, at the cacophony of their voices, and in pleasure at the unexpected reunion. When their laughter subsided, the woman spoke again. They had a lot to catch up on, she said. She was hiking around the island, would he care to walk with her and talk.

Starting point is 00:48:55 Merrick nodded, smiling. To recover some measure of his past by returning to these long lost spaces. That was something he had expected. But to encounter one of the main characters of that past, that was so much more than he had dreamed of. more than he had dreamed of. And so he continued his walk in the company of this friendly stranger who'd once been his dear friend. They fell easily into conversation, part reconnection, and part getting to know one another as adults. They shared the outlines of their stories since the time they'd last met, and they compared notes from the shared experiences of their early years. She filled out Maryx memories and

Starting point is 00:50:10 explained details he'd forgotten, and he in turn gifted her with anecdotes and recollections and recollections that had been lost to her. The sun moved slowly across the sky overhead as they made their way around the island. They walked in and out of shade as their conversation continued in and out of memory. Skipping between the present and the past like stones skittering over the surface of a pond, each sentence sent out ripples of connection, either of shared memory or of new acquaintance. Merrick reveled in the camaraderie and in the lovely scenery, utterly grateful that he had granted himself this detour to return to a place that had meant so much to him. He was resolved not to let it go again, but to make this place a part of his life once more. life once more, returning from time to time and rebuilding his connections here. He voiced this determination to his companion and she encouraged him, sharing news of other old friends he might like to meet again and recounting changes in their childhood neighborhood.

Starting point is 00:52:13 When the time came, much later, to take the ferry back, Left the island with a new friendship, built on an old one, and new memories layered in with his precious recollections. Most of all, he left with a future that he knew would be enriched by renewed connections with the past. And a sense of something found, part of himself recovered, and a reassuring continuity that it had been waiting for him all along. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing.

Starting point is 00:53:37 I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. you ... you you ... you I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. ... ... you ... I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing.

Starting point is 00:57:37 I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. ... you you you you you

Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - A Dreamy Visit to Angel Island

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