Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - A Morning in the Garden

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Starting point is 00:01:27 and sign up, follow the link for Get Sleepy Premium in the show notes, or you can subscribe directly with in Apple podcasts. Thanks so much for your support. Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy. My name is Thomas and I am your host. Thanks for tuning in. Tonight in the first of a two-part story, Heather will be reading to us, as a lady called Anita spends the morning among the flowers in her lovely cottage garden. So the day is done and your responsibilities can be put to one side while you rest and recharge. If you need to reposition in bed to make yourself more comfortable, feel free to do that now. And once you're settled, bring your mind as fully into the present moment as you can.

Starting point is 00:02:53 Just focusing on the way your body feels as it's supported by the bed. And understand that you are already reaping the benefits of rest. As your body relaxes, imagine a small golden light in your chest. Picture the light glowing, radiating from imagine the light and warmth spreading out into your neck and shoulders. And as you exhale, let go of any tension or discomfort. When you inhale again, imagine the light slowly moving down to your arms and legs until your whole body relaxes. Then exhale and let your breath settle into a comfortable, natural rhythm. Imagine this golden light transforming into the warm sun. The dawn breaks, waking the world from its nightly slumber. And it's at this moment when our story begins. Anita is awoken by the sun before her alarm clock has a chance to ring.

Starting point is 00:05:27 She smiles as she wicks up slowly. This is just how she likes it. She stretches, feeling her sleepy body, wanting to move. The first light of the day shines through the thin translucent curtains, filtering gently into her darkened bedroom. She's had a good night's rest, and her bed is soft and warm. She breathes in deeply, savoring this quiet moment before the beginning of her day. At first, the room seems to be silent. But when she pays closer attention, she's able to pick out the individual sounds that somehow blend into a smooth nothingness. There's the home of the fan above her head and the ticking of her bedside clock. A bird chirps outside and she smiles, knowing she's not the only one awake at this hour. And underneath it all is the quiet sound of her steady breathing.

Starting point is 00:07:15 It's the perfect morning she thinks. Anita stretches again before reaching over and Anita stretches again before reaching over and turning on the lamp beside her. The warm glow of the light helps her to wake up even more. She blinks and rubs her eyes and then picks up her alarm clock. It's a charming old-fashioned clock that she's owned for many years. The red paint is slowly peeling away. Behind the glass, the paper face of the clock is starting to turn brown with age. Anita presses the off switch to prevent the alarm from ringing. Then, after throwing off her blankets, she places her feet on the cool wood floor and walks to the kitchen.

Starting point is 00:08:34 The room is bright and airy, and the morning sunlight streams through the window. Anita walks slowly around the kitchen, running her fingers over the cabinets. Although faded now, the hand painted teal wood with the flower design brings a smile to her face. As it reminds her of the summer before last, she'd still lived with her parents and brother back then. She remembers her family's excitement when she told them about her plans to move to the cottage. That's when her brother built these cabinets for her. The whole family had fun getting messy as they painted the wood together. Anita smiles as she remembers that warm summer day in her parents' backyard. She thinks of her family every morning when she wakes up, and every night when she turns off the last light in her house.

Starting point is 00:10:10 Anita opens one of the painted cabinets and pulls out a jar of coffee grounds. Next, she places a filter inside her old coffee maker. Then she goes to the sink and carefully pours the water into the chamber of the coffee pot. Now she needs the measuring spoons, but they always seem to hide from her. Where could they be this time, she wonders? Anita bustles about the kitchen, opening drawers, and searching her spotless countertops. Until at last, she finds them hiding in a cabinet. Then she scoops the coffee grounds into the pot,

Starting point is 00:11:15 closes the top of the machine and switches it on. Once it's running, she heads to the bathroom. As she showers, the coffee pots slowly warms up the kitchen, letting out small whips of steam. The glass of the coffee pot soon becomes clouded with the heat. The coffee is ready by the time she comes back to the kitchen, wearing a cotton shirt, some cargo pants, and her favorite socks. A watch glints on her wrist in the morning light. It's an old gift from her grandfather, and she always remind her of the tall Kuku-Ku in her grandparents' home.

Starting point is 00:12:34 As she gazes at the watch, she feels closer to them. She's already looking forward to the holiday season, when she'll visit her grandparents again. Anita pours the coffee into a thermos before grabbing a clean water bottle from her dish wrap and filling it up with water. With her essentials ready, she walks to the back door of her cottage. Here, she places the bottle and the thermos into a bag hanging on a hook by the door. Carefully fitting them into the netting that will hold them upright.

Starting point is 00:13:39 Finally, she puts on some sturdy brown shoes, takes the bag off the hook, and gets a wide brim straw hat. Then she opens the door and steps outside. The sun shines brightly in the sky, a need of blinks as she walks into the garden. Once her eyes have adjusted to the brightness of the colors, she looks back at her house. It really is a cottage, she thinks, noting the brown-batched roof, the long wheat straw shimmers in the sunlight. This straw was grown specifically for the roof of the cottage. As Anita looks up, she notices light, stray pieces of straw, shining in the corner of her vision. She walks slowly alongside the cottage, running her fingers across the rough, pitted surface

Starting point is 00:14:58 of the stone wall. The first flowers she sees are the morning glories, growing up a wooden trellis. She can still remember the care she took in planting the flowers two years ago after the frost had passed. Whenever she sells the morning glory seeds in her shop now, she always tells her customers to plant them in late spring. The seeds have to be nicked before they're planted, so they have the best chance of growing. That's when you get these beautiful flowers she thinks, smiling to herself, as she runs a light touch over the open petals. This flower in particular is spectacular. She gazes at the vibrant blue

Starting point is 00:16:15 petals that seep into a light pink. This shade then transforms into a pale yellow that colors the very interior of the flower's bell-shaped body. Growing within is a single creamy white chute. me white shoot. Sying at its beauty Anita carefully inspects the plan for any dead vines. Although it's still early in the season she decides that she can never be too careful. She checks over the plants, allowing her fingers to graze the green leaves, listening for the tall, tail sound. None yet. When the seasons change, she will check more rigorously. Next, she inspects the cedar wood trellis that the plant grows over. The wood is locked together in a grid pattern and helps to support her lovely morning glories.

Starting point is 00:17:54 Anita checks for any breakage in the wood, such as damaged joints or visible cracks. But so far, there isn't any. The cedar has held up well against the ground and breathed in the petrocore, the evocative smell of the earth after rainfall. It's one of her favorite of Romas in the world. Here, she pauses, inhaling the rich sense of the moist earth. Although the soil is gradually being warmed by the sun, it's still a little damp from the morning dew and the watering two days ago. This is where the heart of her plants truly lies, dusting off her knees. She doesn't need to touch the soil to know

Starting point is 00:19:31 that her morning glories don't need watering today. Turning the corner of her home, Anita steps lightly onto a stone path which leads to her shed. Fashioned after the style of her cottage, the shed holds all of her most prized gardening equipment, both new and old. She fishes out her key bunch from her knapsack. A watering can charm clinks delicately against the other dangling key chains. From the bunch, she pulls out a small brass key, unlocks the shed and steps inside. Breathing in, Anita smells the distinctive, earthy scent of the potting soil inside the shed.

Starting point is 00:20:44 It permeates the air. The shelves are lined with various gardening tools, spilling out of their holders, and the baskets she'd are stacked in the corner, Anita is reminded of the day she opened her shop. She'd used colorful pots to make an attractive display. Some people in the street had stopped to look. Their curious faces peering through the window. Then Anita had opened the doors of the shop for the first time and invited everyone in. She'd chatted to her friendly customers about starting a community gardening project.

Starting point is 00:21:51 Everyone in town had been so excited for a new gardening store. The kindness and enthusiasm of Anita's first customers had brightened her day. Even now, thinking of the shop opening still makes her smile. These happy memories are enough to keep her warm on cold nights. Anita picks up a worn pair of green gardening gloves, which were a 13th birthday present from her grandmother, and gently tugs them on. She takes a red watering can from the shelf, and then picks up a pair of shears, which are almost as long as her forearm. She inspects the shears for rust. The blades are still sharp from being filed recently and should remain like this for another year or so.

Starting point is 00:23:10 Still, she tests them against a twig in the shed. The shears cut through it cleanly. She places the tool inside a sturdy wheelbarrow and then goes over to the corner of the shed. Here she picks up a couple of plastic jugs. Each has a spout on the bottom that she makes sure is closed before placing the jugs in the wheelbarrow. She wheels the jugs over to a large sink and fills them one by one before screwing the tops closed and placing them back in the wheelbarrow. Arms with the necessary tools, she takes her load over to the door of the shed

Starting point is 00:24:13 and then steps out into the garden. The summer sun, now high in the sky, lights up the fiery colors of the flower garden in front of her. The vibrant array of purple, pink and yellow dazzles her eyes. eyes. The garden is in full bloom this summer, bound to fall and rich from her years of care. If the roots are the heart of a plant, she thinks, this is where her heart is rooted. She stands, swaying lightly. The wondrous colors fill her with the profound joy. For here is her life's work and full bloom before her.

Starting point is 00:25:33 fall bloom before her. Anita takes a deep breath in and closes her eyes, smelling the light mingling scents in the air. Sometimes she can pick each flower's fragrance out of the harmony they create together. But today she just lets them be. The light breeze in the air ebbs and swells like the waves in a sea, bringing her another note, another flower's distinctive smell. At last, the fragrances merge together. As if the flowers are calling to her, waiting for her care and attention. With happiness in her heart, Anita opens her eyes. Her garden has paths running through it, separating different flowers by color. Right before her or the asters, there are purple blooms dancing in the breeze.

Starting point is 00:26:54 She makes her way to the daisy-like flowers wheel-barrow into. Every weekend, she begins her watering cycle, and except for off weeks, all her flowers get a morning shower. Some of them need more care than the others, so there's always a use for her red watering can. Anita places her fingers underneath the asterisk, checking the soil for moisture. It's on the drier side, she thinks, going back to her wheelbarrow to fill up the watering can.

Starting point is 00:27:47 When she returns, she notices a butterfly, perched delicately on one of the purple flowers. Its orange wings look like stained-glassed windows, turning translucent in the sun. They throw a peachy light onto the aster bloom. Deep black lines run through the wings, portioning the sunset color into different sections before ending in a dainty lace pattern at the curved edges.

Starting point is 00:28:32 A monarch butterfly she thinks. Anita watches its wings, bluttering lazily as it drinks deeply from the yellow center of the flower. She notes how even the small white dots at the very edge of its wings seem to be peachy. It's as if the orange wants to steep every part of the butterfly's body in its vibrancy. When the butterfly finishes its meal, it flies off to find another bloom. It flutters happily after drinking the sweet syrup within the aster. Smiling, Anita tips the watering can into the aster's roots, careful to avoid the leaves and flowers. With enough care, the stream misses the body of the plant, thus preventing the powdery mildew that comes with wet leaves. The aster does look a little happier now, she thinks.

Starting point is 00:30:03 Anita hums to her flowers as she waters them, their purple heads bob and sway with the water, brushing against her knees like small children moving towards their mother. She makes her way through each bush until she reaches the end of the line. After picking up her shearss the leaves for mildew. It's never too difficult to spot against the saturated green of the healthy leaves. The mildew always makes the affected leaves look as if someone has sprinkled a fine white powder all over them. When she finds a powdery leaf, she gently snips it off.

Starting point is 00:31:20 There aren't many like this, so she doesn't worry about any major pruning for now. After she's done, she gathers the mill-dood leaves together and puts them at the bottom of the wheelbarrow. Later in the day, she'll put them in a special bin so they can be disposed of properly. Next, she decides it's time for a short break. As she stands in the shade, Anita takes a few sips of coffee. The thermos has kept it nice and hot. This light energy boost was just what she needed, and soon she feels ready to continue. Lavender's next, she thinks, and makes her way towards them.

Starting point is 00:32:30 The lavender plant smell particularly lovely today. Their scent carried by the fresh breeze and the cool air that tickles her skin. The woody aroma rises from the patch of lavender, and as she nears it, the smell only grows stronger. It reminds her of cozy nights that her grandmother's house when she was younger, when the old woman would give her lavender tea to help her sleep. Her grandmother grew her own lavender too, and Anita often makes the tea for herself on restless nights. These flowers are a kind of inheritance, she thinks. The lavender plants stand tall with their green stalks and clusters of purple flowers shaped

Starting point is 00:33:41 like brushes. As she approaches them, she smiles to herself, imagining that the plants are standing to greet her. She bends down to the base of the plants to feel the soil. The earth is damp air as she expected. They need little care today, so she stands up dusting her fingers off, taking a lavender bloom between her fingers, she brings it to her nose and inhales deeply. The lavender is sweet, earthy and somewhat spicy. Although her mind is fairly clear already, a quiet calm settles over her, a neatest joy in the beauty of the day swells in her heart. Carefully, she steps back and brings her shears to the plant. She feels down the stem until she finds the hard part. Notting to herself, Anita measures three fingers above the point and then snips.

Starting point is 00:35:22 Only a couple of sprigs are needed, so she stops after she has a fistful and places the flowers carefully in her knapsack. Her ordinary brown bag is brightened by the spot of colors the flowers bring. Now she can make lavender syrup, tea, cake, the possibilities bloom before her. Anita's stomach rumbles at the thought of cake and she checks her watch, it's almost noon. For a moment she's puzzled, but when Anita shades her eyes and looks up at the sun, she knows this to be true. With the sigh, she pushes the wheelbarrow under the shade of a tree, where it will stay cool. Then she pulls off her gardening gloves and places them inside the wheelbarrow before taking her bag out and swinging it over her shoulder.

Starting point is 00:36:42 and swing in it over her shoulder. A quick snack should do, she thinks, as she walks towards her cottage. When Anita reaches the back door, she looks over her shoulder at her beautiful garden. The flowers bob their petled heads as if to say, go on, we'll be right here. Glancing at the dollias, she spots the monarch butterfly zigzagging between the pink flowers. Later perhaps Anita will check the dollias to see if they need watering. But for now she's happy to go inside and rest. She turns and opens the door to the cottage.

Starting point is 00:37:46 Inside Anita will have something to eat and then sit for a while, resting for as long as she likes. There's no hurry today. Perhaps she'll even lie down on the sofa, relaxing until she's ready to return to the garden. ... ... ... ... I'm ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... you you

Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - A Morning in the Garden

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