Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Encore #5: Brocade of the Moon Palace

Episode Date: July 31, 2026

Narrator: Thomas Jones 🇬🇧 Writer: Kayla Kurin ✍️ Sound effects: gentle breeze, crickets 💨 🌾  Welcome back, sleepyheads. Tonight, we bring back another classic episode with a retelling of an old fairytale from Asia, in which a mother and son find their way to an extraordinary palace. 😴 Get Sleepy Premium Listen completely ad-free and access our entire catalogue of stories and meditations by subscribing to our ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠premium feed.⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Your support means the world to us and makes it possible to keep the show running! ❤️ Get your 7-day free trial: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠getsleepy.com/support⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Connect Stay up to date on all our news and even vote on upcoming episodes! Website: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumberstudios.com/getsleepy/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Facebook: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠facebook.com/getsleepypod/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠instagram.com/getsleepypod/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Our Apps Redeem exclusive unlimited access to Premium content for 1 month FREE in our mobile apps built by the Get Sleepy and Slumber Studios team: Deep Sleep Sounds: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠deepsleepsounds.com/getsleepy/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Slumber: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumber.fm/getsleepy/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ FAQs Have a query for us or need help with something? You might find your answer here:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Get Sleepy FAQs⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ About Get Sleepy Get Sleepy is the #1 storytelling podcast designed to help you get a great night’s rest. By combining sleep meditations with a relaxing bedtime story, each episode will guide you gently towards sleep. Thank you so much for listening! Feedback? Let us know your thoughts! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumberstudios.com/contact-us/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. Get Sleepy is a production of Slumber Studios. Check out our podcasts, apps, and more at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumberstudios.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. That’s all for now. Sweet dreams ❤️ 😴 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hey everyone, welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy. As always, I'm your host, Thomas. Thanks so much for joining us. Tonight's episode from our archives was written by Kayla. I recorded it way back in 2020. so it will sound a bit different to the majority of our episodes you hear nowadays. It's a story inspired by an old fairy tale from Asia, about a mother and son who find their way to an extraordinary palace. Of course, Kayla put our usual sleepy twist on things,

making it ideal for getting some rest. So, make sure you're as comfortable as can be. Breathe deeply in and out for the next few moments. Helping your body to settle and your mind to quieten. Then close your eyes and simply follow my voice. We begin long ago among rube. rolling hills and fields somewhere in the heart of Asia. Many moons ago, a kind, unassuming woman, lived with her son in the heart of Asia.

They dwelt in the countryside in a wooden cottage, surrounded by green fields and dark forests. Though they didn't live a lavish life, they were happy. Their days were spent cultivating rice paddies, and, in the evening, relaxing in front of a crackling fire, telling tales of far-off places. In this time, people rarely ventured far from home, due to the difficulty of travel. The world was yet to see a motorized vehicle. and although there were roads, they were difficult to create and maintain. Once a week, the mother and some would travel to the local market to sell their wares. It was the central hub for exchange in the area. Vendors came from across the valley to trade everything from fresh fish

to chopped wood, except for this weekly trip to the market. The mother and son had seen little beyond their quiet home. They enjoyed this life though. It allowed them time to grow fresh fruits and veg alongside their rice patties and they were able to master useful skills like breadmaking. It was hard to complain about a home that always smells. out of warm bread. But above all, the mother was especially skilled at weaving beautiful brocades. People from neighbouring regions would travel long distances to buy them at the local market.

When the sun set, after a long day, tending to their land, the mother would sit at her loom and mend together threads of brightly coloured silk. She loved creating, Intricate patterns of bright flowers, ocean waves, or red sunsets melting into yellow skies. One day, the mother and some were set up in the market. Next to them was a vendor selling steamed dumplings. The mother just finished trading a few portions of rice for a variety of fragrant spices. When something caught her eye, a scroll of parchment, with a grand palace painted on it. The woman was enchanted by the remarkable work of art.

It featured a palace, framed by dazzling gardens of fruit trees, orchids, and plum blossoms. A river ran around the white and gold building, and orange speckled fish jumped out of the water, sending drops of blue into the river below. The woman counted her conceded her con. and looked at the painting again. It reminded her of the stories she told her son each night by the fire. She had never owned a work of art before. Determined to bring it home, she doubled her efforts to sell brocades. She overheard a wealthy merchant discussing his upcoming wedding and managed to sell him a selection of her finest brocades to be given as wedding gifts to his bride. With the necessary coins in hand, she promptly crossed the market and purchased the

painting. With a smile as wide as the sky, she returned to her son. She simply couldn't wait to put it on display in their home. That night, as the cicadas whirled outside their home, the sun tallied their earnings from the day. It was taking longer than usual. because his mother was concerned only about where to place the painting. She held it at different angles on every wall of their home, but still hadn't found the position that was just right. Then she paused for a moment and gazed longingly out the window. A harvest moon sat like a glowing giant on the horizon,

against the canvas of the night sky, As much as she loved the painting, the mother couldn't help but notice that it made her wonder about the world. What hid beyond the borders of their village? Do palaces like this one really exist? To her, a palace like this was as far away as the harvest moon in the sky. If only she could visit a place of wonder like this, even just for a day. Why don't you make a brocade with the palace on it, her son suggested.

She could bring it to life through her own art. It was a brilliant idea, and the mother sat down to work on it immediately. She ran her fingers across the spools of silk by her loom. Only the finest ones would do for this brigade, even for a master weaver, creating something this intricate would be a challenging task. Each night she sat at her loom, weaving fine threads of silk with the finest care and creativity. Occasionally she would glance out the window at the moon, watching her from above. The mother found it easy to lose herself in her work. Every thread had to be laid perfectly. She loved the palace so much that she wanted to make it just right.

The tall white walls, the golden towers, the flowers in the garden, and the clear river. She made only one creative change to the painting she'd purchased. A moon adorned the night sky above the palace. She thought it was a fitting addition, seeing as she made the brigade by the light of the moon each evening. After months of long nights, the woman wove the last red thread of the last flower in the garden. She paused and took a step back. It was finally completed. And better yet, it was perfect. The best brocade she'd ever seen, she called on her son to show him the finished piece.

He was always proud of his mother's work, but this one was beyond belief. They gazed in admiration, appreciating the moment of her hard work coming to fruition. Then, the mother stepped forward and lifted a latch that released the fabric from the loom. With great care, she gently lifted the fabric toward the window to observe it in the moonlight.

But just then, a mighty gust of wind swept through the open window, taking the brocade with it. The prized brocade floated out the window and over the eastern fields with the wind. The sun dashed out the front of the front of the window. door in an attempt to chase it, but the wind was too strong and the night was too dark. It floated into the sky and disappeared above the treetops. The mother dropped her head into her hands. After all of that work, the brocade was gone. She was disappointed, without a doubt,

after having lived for many years in the countryside she was no stranger to hard work i guess i will have to start again she said the son couldn't stand to see his mother's hard work go to waste the wind couldn't have taken the brigade far he said let me go and find it he lit a small torch on the fire and set out into the night stepping outside he felt the cool breeze on his face watching the flame of the torch he could tell which direction it was blowing and he hurried after it searching for a glimmer of the white castle amidst the darkness he followed the wind through fields of rice paddies through rows of neatly trimmed green stalks and into the forest around him, tree branches swayed in the wind, their leaves rustling up above. Behind every rock and beneath every bush, he searched for his mother's brocade. He passed winding brown rivers,

pastures of canola flowers, and the square where the village market was held. But still, he did not find the brocade. After walking for quite some time into the night, the boy came across an old woman. She sat in front of a mountain pass. Rocky Peaks towered behind her on both sides. When the woman asked the boy where he was going, he told her the story of his mother's brocade, and how the wind had swept it away. Ah, yes, the brocade, the woman said. It blew right through here. The fairies have taken it to the moon palace.

It was still a long journey from here, but he could make it by sunrise if he hurried. He would have to pass through the flame mountain, and over the icy sea though, the sun Tom paused for a moment. He'd never even been this far from home before, much less to a fiery mountain or an icy sea, but he wanted more than anything to find the brocade for his mother. Take my horse and return it on your way back, the woman offered. It will help you pass through the obstacles ahead, with ease, the sung, ungratefully accepted the woman's offer. He mounted the horse and began trotting east through the mountain pass toward the moon palace. The mountains rose high in the sky, their peaks covered

in misty clouds. With no one else around, the sun was completely absorbed in his adventure. He'd never travelled this far before. So everything was a new experience. Pollan from the spring flowers reached his nose, sharing their sweet scent. And the gentle hum of cicadas in the forest played on his ears. As he came around a ridge, a mountainside, engulfed in fire, was revealed.

Red and yellow flames cast shadows on the rocks and trees. It was a strange and beautiful fire. None of the trees seemed to be burning. They were only illuminated by the light. The horse trotted on with confidence towards the flames, as though it had been there before. As they approached the blaze, the sun noticed the fire gave off no heat.

He was untouched by the flames, It danced around him, creating shadows on the mountain's face. But it did no harm. He reached an arm out and watched in disbelief as flames whirled around it, unable to touch him. It was as though he was in a dream. The horse trotted across the fiery mountainside with ease. And soon enough, they crossed onto the other side. side of the mysterious blaze. In the distance, an icy sea sprawled across the land beneath the

silver moon. Fast stretches of ice spread in every direction, intermingled with crystal blue waters. Once again, the horse carried on with confidence, trotting across the ice with a crunch beneath each step. It fearlessly hopped between blocks of ice, where solid ground gave way. Each leap seemed to occur in slow motion, such that the sun could see his reflection in the icy blue waters below, while they floated through the air, when they reached the opposite shore of the icy sea. The sun was amazed to see the moon palace in front of him. It was more beautiful than he could have even imagined, and it looked just like his mother's brocade. Before the backdrop of the starry night sky and the silver moon stood a glistening

white castle. It had a golden roof with shingles like dragon's scales. The palace was several stories high and was glowing in the fading moonlight. At the golden entryway, the sun dismounted his horse and tied it to a tree by a pool of water. He stepped toward the massive double doors and knocked with eager anticipation. On cue, the doors swung open, but there was nobody inside. He walked through the open door and down the hallway. The castle had high ceilings that were adorned with diamond chandeliers. Paintings of magical places rested on the walls.

He followed the hallway until he found himself in a grand hall in the centre of the palace. The boy could hardly believe what he saw. Before him were hundreds of fairies working at loo. just like his mothers. And hanging in the centre of the hall was his mother's prized brocade. The fairies had shining black hair and purple wings which fluttered in rhythm with their looms. The silk thread glittered as it moved in and out of the wooden instruments and the boy could see that they were making hundreds of copies of his mother's brocade. When the fairies saw him, they stopped working and began whispering amongst

themselves. Smiling over at him as they spoke, one of the fairies stood and walked over to him. Welcome to the moon palace of the fairies, she said, waving a wand that emitted golden sparkles from its end. We are delighted to have you as an honour. guest. That is very kind, the sum replied. But please, I am just here to retrieve my mother's brocade. It is very dear to her, and she lost it when the wind swept it away. I have crossed the fiery mountain and the icy sea, and I'd like to bring the brigade back to her. The fairies were amazed to learn that his mother had made the brocade, even though she had never been to the moon palace. It was an astonishing work of art, especially to them, because it perfectly

depicted their beloved home. The fairies explained that the wind had delivered it to them. They planned to have the wind return it once they'd made a replica of their own. If they had Only a few more hours, they were sure they could finish their imitations. The son agreed to stay until morning, so they could finish weaving. Relieved that he'd finally found what he was searching for, the boy felt the excitement of his adventure begin to fade. He only wished that his mother was here to enjoy this adventure with him. This palace was her dream.

and he knew she must be worried about him, having been gone all night. One of the fairies offered to take him to the palace garden, where he could rest on a bed of flowers until morning. She could tell that he was very tired after the long journey. He followed the fairy out of the grand hall, around a corner, and into a room with windows that spanned the whole length of the walls. It looked out on a miraculous garden filled with plants of all kinds and colours. Rock fountains spewed water and tiny stone figurines lined the walkways. As they stepped into the garden, the sun was overcome with the fresh smell

of flowers in full bloom. It was deeply relaxing. The fairy led him to a row of beds, but these were no ordinary beds. They were made of flowers, not crumpled into padding, but standing upright in dense bunches. Through some form of magic the flowers were able to hold weight. He placed his hand on the flower bed and pressed, amazed. that this was even possible. It was soft, but firm. He laid down and felt the flowers

comfortably supporting his body. This was the most comfortable bed he'd ever laid upon. He thanked the fairy for the warm welcome and hospitality and told her that he would return to the Grand Hall at sunrise. It was just a few hours away at this point.

He had travelled all through the night. Every inch of his body was exhausted all the way through his bones. He was grateful to finally give in to the weight of his eyelids and the sun drifted peacefully off to sleep on the bed of flowers. While he slept, the fairies continued working on their looms, chatting merrily all the while. They were fascinated by its craftsmanship and artistry. Truly, it was the finest brocade they'd ever seen, and certainly the best depiction of their home.

As they neared completion of their replicas, they began to realise that even with a touch of magic, they couldn't recreate it. The woman had put so much love and thoughtfulness into the design. No amount of magic could compensate for such skill and devotion. The fairy who'd shown the boy around looked wistfully between her design and the woman's brocade. She did not want to keep the woman from her treasure,

but she also couldn't let go of the beautiful portrayal of her home. So, the fairy decided to weave some magic into the woman's brocade. While the sun was sleeping, the fairy sewed a tiny image of herself on the steps of the palace. So small that it was only noticeable on close inspection, all of the fairies agreed that it was the right thing to do. A woman who could create such a masterpiece, and raise a son who cared for her so deeply, deserved this magical gift. Hours later, the boy woke to the sound of birds in the castle garden. He slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath.

He still had a long trek home today. When he sat up, his mother's brigade was lying at the foot of the bed. He picked it up and held it close to his chest. Finally, he had his mother's prized possession back. A feeling of relief spread through his body. He stood up and made his way back into the castle, to the Grand Hall. But the palace was empty. All of the fairies were gone.

He followed the long hallway with glistening chandeliers back to the front entryway. His horse laid in the grass, resting in the shade of a tree. He looked around for signs of the fairies. Perhaps they'd left a note, but there was nothing. He felt somewhat confused. He'd received such a warm welcome. It seemed odd that the fairies would disappear. But then he remembered the brocade in his hand and his mother waiting.

for him to return home. He untied the horse and petted its mane. Let's go home, he said, and mounted his brave companion. With the brocade in hand, the sun was able to enjoy the journey to the fullest. He laughed crossing the sea of ice, steady on the horse's back, and watched the flames of the fiery mountain in awe. When he reached the mountain pass with the old woman, he returned the horse to her and thanked her dearly. She had quite a magnificent horse, and he wouldn't have been able to recover the brocade without it.

The sun walked back through the forest. The brocade clutched tightly in his hands. He wandered, past the square where the first merchants were beginning to set up for the day. He carefully stepped along the ledges of rice paddies, and finally his home came into view in the distance. His mother waited inside, trying to distract herself by weaving. But she could hardly keep her eyes on her task.

Seeing her son through the window, she rushed outside to meet him. They reunited in front of their home with a warm embrace. The sum proudly revealed her brocade and began to tell her of his adventure to the Moon Palace. The mother was astonished that the weaving she had made represented a real place. They sat outside sipping tea. Their hands cut around the warm beverage. as the boy told his mother all about his adventures, about the old woman's horse, the fiery mountainside, the icy sea, and the magical flower bed where he slept,

if only I could have gone too, the mother said. But she was content just to have her son and her brocade, back home she held the brocade up in front of her both of them admiring it it was truly a beautiful piece of art then the woman noticed something was different the image of a tiny fairy had been woven in to the fabric what is that the woman wondered she stroked her finger over the fairy. All of a sudden the brocade began to shimmer and glow. It grew bigger and bigger, taking up the space of their whole property. Soon, the palace, the lush garden, and the river running around it sprung up all around them. The moon palace had come to life, right here at their home. The boy was shocked. He never thought he would see the palace again. But here it was. And,

standing on the steps of the palace, was the fairy he had befriended. She walked towards them and introduced herself to the mother. You must be the master who created the beautiful depiction of my home. I want to know all about how you did it. and please teach me to weave as wonderfully as you. The fairy explained how she had woven herself with magic into the fabric because she could not let go of this beautiful piece of art. She invited the mother and son to live with the fairies in the moon palace and teach them her craft.

The woman was overjoyed with the beauty of the castle. and that her brocade had come to life. She agreed to teach the fairies her weaving techniques. And in exchange, the woman, her son, and their neighbours all lived in the fairy castle, enjoying the sprawling grounds and the fresh foods that grew there. In the moon palace, the boy and his mother, were even happier than they had been before. Each night, the mother sat at her loom, weaving a new creation. Just as she always had, she would gaze out the window at the silver

moon, resting high in the sky. But now, the moon was different to her. It didn't seem as far off, as she had once thought it to be. Now, she knew that all of the wonderful places that previously seemed so distant and unattainable were always within reach.