Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Finding the Hidden Garden

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Starting point is 00:01:33 Or just follow the link in the show notes for a 30 day free trial of the Deep Sleep Sounds app. Hello and welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy. My name is Thomas and I'm your host, thank you for being here. Tonight we'll wander along the rugged coastline of southern Italy, trying to unravel the mystery of a beautiful hidden garden, before finally drifting off into a peaceful sleep, and it will all be read by Abby. my abbey. As we're in the summer months in the UK, I've been enjoying spending time in the garden as much as possible, and I feel very lucky to have a garden to relax in. Though the one in tonight's story may be quite different to that of my own, and maybe to yours too. The tranquility and

Starting point is 00:02:47 peace of sitting in the sun on a summer's afternoon is one of the best and easiest ways to find calm in the middle of a busy day. So, picture yourself now, sitting or laying in a garden or any tranquil outdoor space. Your breathing is naturally gentle and steady. And with each rise of the chest and stomach, you feel the sun's warmth moving across your torso. The nourishing sensation seems to calm and cleanse you at your core. Not only is it warming your skin, but you can sense its energy within too. Just rest here for a moment with your eyes closed, enjoying the pleasant feeling of the sun, the charming sounds of birds

Starting point is 00:04:10 and the trees, and a light breeze flowing over your skin. Remember that although you may not always be able to experience this feeling in person, you can always recall it in your imagination. So, take one more deep breath in, feeling the sun's warmth, and exhale gently as you allow yourself to relax deeper and deeper. It's nearly time for me to hand over to Abbey. So now imagine the warmth of the Mediterranean sun shining over you. And conjure the rhythmic sensation of travelling on a lazy, provincial train. This is where our story begins. It's a summer afternoon and you're sitting in a train carriage traveling from the Sicilian capital of Palermo towards a small coastal town. You have a window seat and you've cracked the window to let in the gentle afternoon breeze. Through the glass you see grey blue mountains, green olive groves, brownshackle villages, and every now and then, a glimpse of the sea in a mesmerizing shade of turquoise.

Starting point is 00:06:34 The breeze wafting through the cracked window smells like rosemary and thyme, which grow wild in the hills, paired with the sharp scent of sea salt. You are on vacation and after the hustle and pulled out of Palermo's main station. But as your journey has worn on, more and more people have disembarked. Now, your carriage is nearly empty. In fact, you realize, when you glance away from the scenery out the window, there is only

Starting point is 00:07:27 one other person just at a board. She's an elegant, older woman, wearing a chic linen suit. The kind of garment that is never exactly in style, because it has never exactly gone out of style. And a macular suitcase is stowed at her feet, and on the seat beside her is laid a broad brimmed sun hat. Like you, she is a traveler, you think. But while you've been looking out of the window, soaking in the view, she has been absorbed in her book. It's a small book bound in red leather. It looks very old.

Starting point is 00:08:12 And it must be old because when you look at it more closely, you see that the gold lettering of its title has worn away to almost nothing. If you squint though, you can make it out. The book is called Secrets of Sicily. The woman reads the book very intently, sometimes nodding at a certain passage, sometimes seeming to stop and read a line two or three times. You wonder what secrets the book holds. You even consider striking up a conversation with her. After all, you're both travelling through Sicily alone.

Starting point is 00:09:01 But she looks to be enjoying the book very much and you'd hate to interrupt her. So you content yourself with staring out the window, idly wondering what secrets such a book might contain. The train comes to a halt and pulls in at a station interrupting your peaceful day dreams. And when you look out the window, you see that there is only one stop to go before you reach your destination. Across the aisle there is a sudden rush of movement. The woman you're sharing their carriage with is standing up, gathering her possessions. This must be her stop. She sweeps through the carriage, leaving a faint trail of perfume. The train doors open. Before the woman steps down though, she turns back and looks you straight in the eye.

Starting point is 00:10:11 A smile pulls at the edge of her mouth. Then she steps onto the platform. The doors close. The train pulls away from the station and she is gone, taking her suitcase and sun hat with her. But she's left something behind. The red leather book she was reading lies on her seat. You remember the deliberate way she looked at you before she left, and you feel sure that this wasn't accidental. You take the book.

Starting point is 00:10:55 For a moment you simply feel its weight in your hand, noticing how the worn smooth binding feels against your palm. Then the book falls open. You can tell by the frayed edges of the page and the loose stitching at the book's spine that it has been opened to this specific page many times. There isn't much time before you arrive at your station, but there is enough time to read a paragraph or two. You lean over the book and begin to read. This passage describes a lush, beautiful garden locked in an old medieval courtyard in the depths of a Sicilian village which remains

Starting point is 00:11:48 unnamed. The author of Secrets of Sicily describes in great detail all the flowers and herbs that grow in the garden. Their description lingers on the marble statues that inhabit the garden shaded grows and sweet smelling corners. On the likened stain, sun-warmed stone benches, where visitors can rest. On the cool blue depths of the grotto, for the garden's edge. But they never reveal the garden's location. Instead, they leave you with the cryptic instruction that the garden is impossible to find for those who are not meant to find it. On the other hand, if the garden or wants you to find it, then you will. You go to turn the page, but's eye, imagining how cool and green

Starting point is 00:13:09 and fragrant it must be there. You wish you could see it for yourself. Someday perhaps. The train comes to a stop, pulling you out of your daydream. You gather your bags in the book and a light into the Bar Me's Sicilian evening. The town you have chosen to stay in is small but lively. On your first night here, you wander around, pleased, there is a beach where you can swim, a piazza where the tables are filled with locals eating and drinking, and the faded stone buildings of the historic centre are brimming with antique shops and galleries.

Starting point is 00:14:03 You are glad you've decided to stop here. Over the next few days, you fall into a pleasant holiday rhythm. In the mornings, you swim in the sun-warmed ocean, then spread out on the sandy beach to dry with your eyes closed, sunlight dancing over your face, listening to the crashing of waves and the faint, puttering of fishing boats in the distance.

Starting point is 00:14:42 In the afternoon, you wonder the town's markets, admiring the colour and gloss of the local fruit and vegetables, and stroll through its narrow medieval streets, stopping here and there, where a shop's window display or a painting in a gallery catches your eye. In the evenings, you linger over fresh pasta at a restaurant on the Piazza as soon becomes your favorite. You like to watch the sky slowly changing colours as the sun sets, the sky slowly changing colours as the sun sets. While local children play games of football in the centre of the piasa and young lovers and old couples stroll hand in hand around the piasa's edge. At night you return to your hotel. On your way you smile at the old man who lives in the house next door. He seems to always be in his garden, polishing his cherry red

Starting point is 00:15:57 vespas, and whenever he sees you, he greets you in Italian. Your hotel occupies one of the tall, tormented medieval buildings in the city center, and your room is on the top floor. So at night, when you throw open the heavy shuttons and look through the window, you can see the evening sky dusted with stars, the hilly coastline that surrounds this town, and here and there, the dark outlines of other nearby villages. When you look at the villages in the hills, you can't help but wonder if one of them contains

Starting point is 00:16:48 the secret garden you read about. You remember the words you read in the book, if you are meant to find the garden you will. One morning you make your way down to the beach. The old man who lives next door greets you with his usual expression, but then something catches his eye. He is looking intently at your beach bag and the red leather cover of your book, secrets are sizzling, which peaks over the bag's rim. Then he turns back to you and smiles. He asks how you were enjoying your holiday. You tell him you're having a wonderful time. And then, to keep the conversation going, you say how much you admire his Vespa. This seems to make him very happy.

Starting point is 00:17:54 He tells you he's too old to ride it very much anymore, but he still polishes it every day. While he polishes, he likes to remember all the adventures he and the Vespas had together. He tells you of visiting ruined Roman temples high in the hills and swimming coves where dolphins splash in clear waters of sleepy villages and of beautiful gardens. He pauses with a half smile on his lips, and then he tosses you the vest bikis. You should go exploring, he tells you. He would give him pleasure to think of his vespas setting off on another adventure. You start if you're excited.

Starting point is 00:18:51 You love the lazy, rhythmic days you have spent here, swimming in the ocean, lying on the sand. But now, you start to feel drawn to new horizons. A day roaming the countryside on the back of a Vespa might be just what you need. Before you set off, you buy a map and sit at a table outside your favourite cafe on the Piazza. While you sit your morning coffee, you mark out a route that will take you up into the hills, then back along the coast. On a whim, you pull out secrets of Sicily and ruffle the pages until you find the description of the garden. The author doesn't give the name of the village where this magical garden can be found.

Starting point is 00:19:55 But when you read closely, you see that there are some clues to his whereabouts. The author describes the brightly coloured red and yellow flags that festoon the town's main streets. They also describe the town's coat of arms, two mermaids circled by a wreath of herbs and wildflowers. Lastly, they write about a sweet delicacy which can only be found in this specific village, an almond biscuit baked in the shape of a mermaid's tail. Now, last you're ready to leave. You hopp astride the Vespa and turn the key in the ignition. The engine growls to life and soon you are speeding smoothly along the road

Starting point is 00:20:55 that leads out of the town and winds up into the hills. A light breeze plays across your face. A light breeze plays across your face. It carries the scent of the rosemary and thyme that grow wild in the region and the salt of the ocean. As you ride higher and higher, the view becomes more and more breathtaking. When you reach your rocky outcropping, high in the hills, you come to a stop and step off the Vespa. This is the perfect place to soak up the view. To either side of you, the hills stretch out in shades of green and grey. Below the ocean unrolls like a length of blue silk. Looking around you, you can't help but feel a sense of ease. You close your eyes, you feel your muscles loosening and your breath growing deeper.

Starting point is 00:22:11 You are conscious of the earth under your feet grounding you and of the playful breeze the dance is around you. The breeze meets with the wind coming off the ocean and grows stronger. A rustling noise brings you back to yourself and you open your eyes in time to see the wind lifting the map with your carefully marked root out of your bag and carrying it away. You can't help but laugh as you watch the white paper float off into the blue sky. Now you'll have to leave your route to chance or to luck. You'll have to leave your route to chance, or to luck. You get back on the vestber and keep riding up into the hills,

Starting point is 00:23:19 when something down near the coast catches your eye and makes your heart skip. A flap of red and yellow. You'll remember the description of the garden in the book. It was found in a village where red and yellow flags are strong between the streets. On impulse you turn and start driving down to where you see the flags waving. You reach a small medieval town. The piatzah here is taken up with an ornate marble fountain. A couple sit, having an animated conversation on the fountain's rim. On impulse you approach them and ask them about the garden. They haven't heard of it. When they notice your disappointment, you explain that you've read about a village where red and yellow flags fly in the streets, and a wonderful garden can be found behind a stone wall.

Starting point is 00:24:29 They laugh. All the villages in this area fly red and yellow flags. They are the colours of the local castle. They draw directions to the castle on the back of a napkin. They draw directions to the castle on the back of a napkin. You fold your napkin carefully into your pocket and start back on your journey. You ride into the hills, twisting up and up, and soon you see the smudgy outline of a town on the horizon. As you get closer, the smudgeness sharpens and you can make out the outlines of roofs and above the other buildings, a tall stone castle. You park the Vespas at the edge of town and wander through the streets until you arrive at the castle gate. The castle has stood empty for many years and now its

Starting point is 00:25:38 sand-coloured stone is worn and crumbling. Here and there, a green tendril of vine pushes through the stonework, tiny white flowers bloom between the cracks in the pavers at your feet. You climb to the top of the castle's turret, and from the old stone ramparts gaze down into the village. You take in the streets around the castle where bright flags flap in the breeze and locals wander with shopping bags and baskets slong over their arms. and baskets, slong over their arms. There is something special about this town and this castle. You would never have come here if your map hadn't flown away in the wind.

Starting point is 00:26:50 Perhaps you were meant to come here. Perhaps this town is where you will find the hidden garden that has tugged at the corner of all your daydreams ever since you first read about it. You feel a prickle of excitement. You make your way back down into the town, and after you've stopped for a refreshing scoop of gelato, you begin to explore. Secrets of Sicily described the entrance to the hidden garden as a heavy wooden door with an elaborate silver locket at center. The door is all but invisible, concealed in an old stone wall that is completely overgrown with Wisteria.

Starting point is 00:27:40 But, though you search and search, your heart lifting every time you turn into a new street, with the hope that this street might be the street, you don't find any wisteria laden war, or any heavy wooden door. It's not such a disappointment though, for this town is filled with hidden treasures. In a tiny piazza behind the castle, you find a fountain where water splashes over frulling marble fish and dolphins. Nearby in an old church that smells of clean plaster and pungent incense, you see that the walls are covered with brightly coloured frescoes. The streets are lined with old-fashioned boutiques, selling lace and linens, old books and maps,

Starting point is 00:28:49 or brightly painted toys. One shop looks especially enticing to you. It's an antique shop crowded with treasures. Inside it is cool and dark, where the tables and shelves are laid with glittering broaches and combs and fans with elegantly carved handles. You stop to admire an ornate mantle clock and a vivid oil painting in a heavy gold leaf frame. You even spy an old fashioned pair of opera glasses in among all the other objects. But there is one item above all the others that fascinates you. It is a beautiful silver jewelry box carved all over within to twining leaves, flowers and animals. As you run your

Starting point is 00:29:59 fingers along the box's carved surface. You notice something exciting. In the centre of the box is lid. You see two mermaids swimming in a circle, wreathed in a garland of carved wild flowers. You go to the counter and buy the box. The shop owner carefully writes your purchase down in an old accounts book. And as he does so, you ask him about the emblem carved into its lid. It's the crest of a nearby village he explains. If you keep travelling down along the road that leads out of town and towards the ocean, you'll soon come across it. Not many tourists visit this particular town he tells you, but he has a feeling you will find it worthwhile to stop there

Starting point is 00:31:08 for an hour or two. The shop owner is right. When you arrive in this third town you are immediately enchanted. It's even more magical than the last two villages you visited. It is set into a cliff, overlooking the ocean, and everywhere you walk, you can hear the sounds of gentle, lapping waves, and the cries of fishermen hauling in their catch. The sky is somehow even bluer here. The flapping red and yellow flags move vivid, and the smells of sea salt and wild rosemary that carry on the breeze are even sharper in your nostrils. As you wonder, you come across a bustling market where stallholders sell fresh produce and flowers, a charming old puppet theatre, a street performer who strums a guitar while a crowd gathers around, swaying and dancing.

Starting point is 00:32:27 In fact, it seems every time you turn a corner, you stumble onto another picturesque scene. But the one thing you're looking for is nowhere to be found. There is no wasteria covered wall. No heavy wooden door. No ornate silver log. No hidden garden. What's more, every time you ask a passing local where a garden might be found, they simply shake their heads. None of them knows of any garden. Though more than one

Starting point is 00:33:17 has a twinkle in their eye when they say this. You have walked every street of the town twice over before you finally decide to stop hunting for the garden. The afternoon sun is sinking, turning the pavers of the piaccia, the colour of rich honey. You sit at an empty table in a cafe on the piata, an order a plate of the local delicacy, mermaid-tail biscuits. They are sweet but not too sweet, and they have a texture somewhere between crumbly and melty. They taste faintly of almond with one mouthful and faintly of cinnamon with the next. You can't remember the last time you tasted anything so delicious. When you are finished you lick the crumbs from your plate and settle back in your chair to watch the deepening colour of the sky. You listen to the wash of the sea,

Starting point is 00:34:39 the distant calling of birds, the soft murmurs and rustles of the cafe's other customers as they speak to one another in low voices or slowly leaf through the day's newspapers. In the corner of your eye, you see the red leather spine of secrets of Sicily poking out of your bag. Beside it, the silver jewellery box gleams. You sigh, but it is more a sigh of contentment than disappointment. Perhaps you weren't meant to find the hidden garden after all. Perhaps you were meant to have the adventure of looking for the garden, rather than stumbling

Starting point is 00:35:39 upon the garden itself. After all, you've had a wonderful day, riding the Vespour on mountain roads with the wind all around you and a view of the ocean, stumbling on quaint villages filled with ancient stone architecture, and lively street life. Unirthing treasures in antique shops and samplings of sillian delicacies, that you might otherwise never have tried. It has been a long, satisfying day, and now you're ready to go home. You make your way from the piata to

Starting point is 00:36:31 the outskirts of the town's historical centre where you parked, you feel lost, now you know you can't possibly be lost. You have walked at least twice down every street in town, trying to find the entryway to the hidden garden. And yet, these streets feel new and different. The sun is beginning to set, turning the sky to dusky hues, the lengthening the shadows on the cobbled pavements. Perhaps it's a trick of the deepening light that is making you feel like you've stumbled into a new, unfamiliar part of this small town. As the sun sinks, it lights up one alleyway with particular brightness, throwing pink and gold rays onto the buildings on either side of its narrow path.

Starting point is 00:37:49 You look down the length of the alley, your convince you haven't seen it before. In fact, you're almost certain it wasn't there the last time you traversed the town. A whole street can't spring out of nowhere, you tell yourself. And yet you have the sense this is precisely what has just happened. At the end of the street, glowing under the late afternoon sun, you catch a glimpse of purple blossom. Your breath catches, and your heart skips. With stirrier, blooming in soft shades of lilac and move covers a crumbling stone wall at the end of the alleyway. You walk down the alley and stop in front of the Wisteria.

Starting point is 00:38:57 You pause for a moment to breathe in its sweet powdery scent. Then you start to search for a door. It doesn't take you long to find the heavy wooden doorway concealed by Wisteria Blossom. You push. The door is shut. You push harder. But the door doesn't budge. It is locked. There is an ornate so below, set into the center of the door, just as the book said there

Starting point is 00:39:40 would be. You put your eye to the keyhole. On the other side of the door, you can hear the gentle rustling of leaves and grass moving in time with the breeze and the burbling of running water. If only the door would open. You pull away from the keyhole and sit down on the cobbled ground. This sudden movement causes something to rattle in your bag. Where is the rattling noise coming from from you wonder. Your hand brushes against the silver jewelry box and you pull it out. You open it up. It is beautifully lined with soft blue velvet, but it is completely

Starting point is 00:40:40 empty. You shake the box. There is that rattling noise again. You open the box once more and run your hand across the lining. There is a slit in the velvet and underneath the velvet what feels like a small latch. You undo the latch and a secret compartment in the lid of the box falls hand, you know that this key will fit the lock in the door perfectly. And it does. You turn the key, open the door, and step through the curtain of Wisteria into the most beautiful garden you have ever seen. It is green and lush despite the dry Sicilian heat and it has a faintly hazy quality to it

Starting point is 00:42:09 And it has a faintly hazy quality to it, as if it has been painted in watercolors. You breathe in and fill your lungs with its fresh, fragrant air. Despite the narrowness of the alley, the gardener's self is very large, spilling out around you in every direction. Apart from the insects buzzing in the flower beds and the birds chirping in the tree branches and of course you, it is completely empty. You take your time exploring this beautiful hidden garden. You wander through its overgrown garden beds, and for a while, stretch out on the grass and lie under the silver leaves of one of the many olive trees that grow here. You wander through the orchard admiring the bright fruit that hangs from the trees. Somehow you know that if you like to eat something, a juicy peach or a crisp pear, you are

Starting point is 00:43:31 free to help yourself. Later on you dip your feet into the stream that runs along behind a nearby cluster of rose bushes and trail your fingers across its surface. The water is a perfect temperature just cool enough to be delightfully refreshing. The smooth speckled pebbles that lie at its bottom are beautiful to look at through the clear running water. You wonder through the groves of Cypresses, where the pathways are studied with marble statues of ancient gods and goddesses, and visit the cool depths of the underground grotto. Time seems to stand still as you explore.

Starting point is 00:44:41 The Garden is yours to wander through, however you want, as you tune into the sense of deep peace and calm that pervades this magical, secret place. When you finish wandering, you stretch out in the soft green grass, feeling your limbs getting heavy and your eyes falling close. The sun is warm on your face and the breeze dances over you. You breathe in and out, in and out, making your breaths longer and slower each time until you finally fall into a deep replenishing sleep. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... you ... ... you ... you you

Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Finding the Hidden Garden

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