Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - The Roman Festival of Floralia

Starting point is 00:00:00 Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy. I'm your host, Thomas. Thank you so much for being here. Tonight's story was written by Joe. She is one of our most regular contributors and we're so grateful to have her. And we're equally grateful to Heather, tonight's narrator, who's soothing voice is also one you can hear regularly on the show. In this episode, we're returning to the Library of Time, an enchanted place where each and every book connects to a different time and place, leading to some magnificent adventures through history. story. Soon we'll travel to ancient Rome and visit the temple of the goddess Flora. We'll

Starting point is 00:01:11 see how the Romans celebrate springtime at the festival of Floralia, the ode to its goddess. But first, this episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Getting to know yourself can be a lifelong process, especially because we're always growing and evolving. What I think is great is that it feels to me that opening up about our mental health and the internal difficulties that we all go through at times is becoming more and more normalized just as it should be. But those conversations can still be very difficult for some people and that's where professional therapists can really help. Better help is professional therapy all done entirely online, designed to be convenient, flexible and suited to your schedule.

Starting point is 00:02:09 From my experience, therapy can really help you understand and break down what you're feeling and why that might be and provide you with coping strategies to take forward. So discover your potential with better help. Visit betterhelp.com-get-sleepy to get 10% off your first month. That's betterhelp-h-e-l-p.com-get-sleepy. Okay, my friends, let's spend a bit of time unwinding and preparing for sleep. And while we do so, let me remind you that you are one of many thousands of people listening along to my words as you relax into your bed tonight. I hope it's a comfort to know that there are many others out there listening. It of course means so much to me that we have such a substantiant loyal audience for their show. I really can't

Starting point is 00:03:27 thank you all enough. But ultimately, what means the most to me is that you feel reassured and supported every time you listen. So, let me invite you now to get comfortable. Take a deep, nourishing breath in through the nose and back out and give yourself permission to let go of tension or anxiety. Let go of any resistance to rest and relaxation. This is your safe haven. A place you can return to, nights after night. Knowing that you are part of a wild-wired community of like-minded people, all tuning in for a good night's rest.

Starting point is 00:05:08 So without further ado, I'll hand over to Heather so she can read our story. at a grand and familiar library. Before you is a door of dark heavy wood, it glistens in the light of a nearby window. It carries the aroma of rich mahogany and every inch of its surface is decorated with carvings. A border of vines surrounds the main panel, twisting and turning like the waves of the ocean. The blooms of flowers are peppered on the vine alongside leaves that are smooth yet feathery. You reach out a hand towards the door and trace your finger around Finger around one such pattern. Closing your eyes, you follow the indentation, you feel the grooves and ridges of the intricate carving. Touching the woodwork, you note a subtle vibration as if the door's surface is alive with energy. It's a feeling that radiates from the middle of the panel where the figure of a woman

Starting point is 00:07:18 takes center stage. Her body is draped in a floor-length tunic. It hangs from one shoulder in a series of layers. On her long, flowing locks, she wears a garland of roses. It gives her the air of a goddess or queen. More blooms appear in a handheld bouquet. She lifts them up toward her eye line. Her gaze is adoring as she looks at the flowers, and her expression overall is one of blissful appreciation. You wonder just who this woman might be, and what might lie behind the door she resides

Starting point is 00:08:20 on. She seems to be willing you to open up and look. You feel yourself pulled toward a shiny brass handle. Though the door looks very heavy, it falls open with ease, revealing the entrance way to a very grand library. You pause for a moment inside the foyer and cast your eyes over the room beyond. It might be described as an opulent hallway with floors of marble and tall stone walls. Sleep marble columns rise up toward the ceiling. They hold up a second floor that begins midway through the room. The edges of the hall are illuminated by candles burning atop ornate gold stands. More light comes in from the high arched windows and a massive chandelier at the center of the room.

Starting point is 00:09:54 In the soft golden light, the room seems cozy. It carries the comfort of a much smaller room. The light elevates all that it touches, chairs, rugs, and fine, open-box shelves. You pass them now as you stroll through the room, your footsteps echoing across the silence. You walk toward a pair of twisting stairways. They curve upwards, disappearing from sight. A plaque is fixed on a wall between them, you stop to read the inscription. Welcome to the Library of Time. Only the most curious of souls can find this place. Each and every book connects to a different time and place. While in the past, you

Starting point is 00:11:12 will neither be seen nor heard. You cannot change the past after all. You can only learn from it and learn you shall. If it were any other time in any other place, he might well question the words on the plaque. But here in the realm of this mysterious library, In the realm of this mysterious library, he finds yourself open to wondrous possibilities. It's with the sense of childlike curiosity that you embark on your journey up the spiral staircase, the wooden banister shimmer is gold in places, reflecting the flames of nearby candles. The surface is smooth and cool to the touch, it's a lustrous cedar like the stairs beneath

Starting point is 00:12:21 your feet. Step by step, the second floor is revealed with its endless rows of charming wooden bookshelves. Marble columns are sprinkled between them, brightened by the glow of more candlelit stance. Soft golden light rests across the shelves, like a blanket of sunshine as the sun begins setting. The covers of the books seem to sparkle like treasure in shades of ruby, emerald and sapphire. Better still is their musty aroma. They smell like wisdom, magic and adventure. You bask in these sins as you walk between the shelves, finding yourself guided to a section

Starting point is 00:13:37 on the left. Scanning a shelf at eye level, you trace your fingers along the spines of each book until you pause at one with just a date at its title. And you're struck by a feeling that's meant for you. The book stands out from those beside it. It's a shade of lilac like lavender or wisteria. The title is imprinted in a heavy shade of gold. It reads Heavy shade of gold. It reads 238 BCE. Removing the volume from its shelf, you're surprised at the texture of the book's aging cover.

Starting point is 00:14:39 It's soft and velvety against your skin. Book in hand, you exit the area and continue your journey behind the bookshelves. That is perfect for reading. A spot where comfort seems to radiate outwards. Daylight shines down from a panel in the ceiling. A glass rectangle surrounded by columns. A long wooden sofa that's directly underneath it, scattered with an array of plush velvet cushions. They're in shades of emerald with pinks and purples, the colors of a woodland with a floor full of blooms. You could easily imagine that you're in such a forest as you take a seat on the colorful velvet.

Starting point is 00:16:00 You open your book beneath the glow of the skylight and note the border around the opening pages. It's similar to that on the library door, with binds, flowers, and feathery leaves. The candle burns on a table beside the sofa. It casts a golden sheen across the pages. You enjoy the texture of this age-old parchment and the sound of the pages turning beneath your fingers. Finally, you reach the opening paragraph and begin reading the words out loud. Ancient Rome has maintained its legacy as a sophisticated example of early civilization.

Starting point is 00:17:08 Its famous for its infrastructure, its buildings and engineering, and the standard of living enjoyed by its people. Rome was a society that valued recreation, religious festivals marked the rhythm of the year. They were a way to curry favor with the gods and goddesses. The Festival of La Raleia was one such, a six-day celebration beginning April 23rd. It was held in honor of Flora, the goddess of flowers and springtime. She's often associated with femininity and fertility and the rebirth and renewal signified by the

Starting point is 00:18:09 season. Flora is one of the most ancient deities worshipped since its earliest years. She was introduced to Rome by King Titus Tesis, though the festival of Flora Lia wouldn't be instituted until Rome was a republic, beginning centuries later in 238 BCE. Offerings were made at the Temple de Flora, newly built that same year. Hundreds of thousands of people would attend to watch the games in the circus Maximus. They would dress in their finest and most colorful tunics, hoping to impress the goddess of springtime. Pluralia, it was hoped, would please the goddess,

Starting point is 00:19:17 so that she, in turn, would reward the people. The prize would be a beautiful season in which flowering plants produced colorful blooms. You pause after reading this last sentence, catching the sweet sense of flowers. The lilac book seems to smell like springtime. You bring it in towards you and inhale deeply. Closing the book, you set it down on the table and allow yourself to sink into the cushions of the sofa.

Starting point is 00:20:10 You shut your eyes for just a moment, noticing how the velvet conforms to your shape. Something unexpected happens as you do. Something rather strange and entirely wonderful. You feel as if you're floating through time and space, as if you're being pulled into the pages of the book. When you open your eyes, you're no longer in the library. Instead, you're standing on a cobblestone street. The ground you stand on is bathed in sunlight, as are the buildings beside you. Most have the appearance of Mediterranean villas, those of a time, thousands of years passed. The buildings are topped with terracotta roofs, while their walls are white or a sandy golden beige.

Starting point is 00:21:38 Many are decorated with columns and statues. Art ways in the stone reveal lovely inner court yards. Beside the buildings, the streets have been beautified. There are flowers and plant pots, trees and bushes and statues carved in brass and marble. The ground itself is decorated in places with the intricate patterns of colorful mosaics. It's like a scene from the pages of a textbook or a historical novel that thousands of years ago. As strange as it might be, you know just where you are. You're on the streets of ancient Rome. A handful of people walk by you on the path, all heading in the same direction.

Starting point is 00:22:57 They don't seem to see you or acknowledge you at all. You recall the words on the plaque in the library. While in the past, you will neither be seen nor heard. This allows you to explore freely and to examine the appearance of those around you. In part, the dress code is what you might expect. Elegan hair styles, togas and tunics, and feet dressed in sturdy leather sandals. What you hadn't expected were the shades of the tunics. The wool has been dyed in a range of bright colors. You see fabric dyed sea blue. There's Boris Green and Burgundy red. One man wears a tunic of the brightest golden yellow. He looks like a beam of sunlight as he walks past. Adding to this color are decorative flowers around the

Starting point is 00:24:30 necks and hair of men and women. You see the pink of cherry blossoms, the yellow of daffodils and the white and lilac of fresh crocuses. Many of the people hold flowers in their hands, their tide and bundles forming a tract of bouquets. A young girl, you notice, scatters petals from a basket. She leaves a trail of color behind her on the path. You begin walking down the road, strewn with petals, following the people in their colorful outfits. Your movements mimic those of the Romans, your footsteps are slow and your arms care free. Sun beams down from an azure sky. It warms your skin as you walk the cobbled way. A gentle breeze carries fresh, cool air and the sweet fragrance of various blossoms. There are other scents too, like the resin of the pine trees that paint the path green with their umbrella-like canopies. Near by gardens, emit the fragrances of springtime.

Starting point is 00:26:32 the fragrances of springtime. The Romans themselves smell sweet and fragrant. The scent of flowers, worn in decoration, mixes with the aroma of bath oils and perfume. It's all together pleasant to follow the scent, and it only grows sweeter as the group gains numbers. More and more people have joined those walking from connecting side streets and villas at the roadside. Their dyed wool and tunic had new depths of color until the crowd itself resembles a colorful bouquet. Amongst the people, there's an atmosphere of celebration, faces where expressions of excitement and happiness.

Starting point is 00:27:35 The walk has the feeling of a parade or procession. There's a sense of purpose, a route being followed. Music in the distance only amplifies this feeling. You can hear the gentle notes of the lyre, an instrument that sounds almost like a harp. A man joins the group carrying a tympanum. This handheld drum looks like a tambourine. He hits it softly with a palm of his hand, producing a drum beat that is shallow and gentle. The beat is timed to the rhythm of the music and it matches the pace of the group's easy movements. The crowd grows larger at every intersection, gaining more Roman citizens roped in color. Included amongst them are more girls throwing paddles. They transform the path into a carpet of springtime. What a pleasure it is to walk amongst the crowd and to be invisible,

Starting point is 00:29:11 surrounded by so many people. What's more, it's that they seem to walk around you. They sing to walk around you. It's as if there's a bubble between you and them. Eventually, you come to a crossroads where four different routes join in to form a plaza. The pace of the group slows to a standstill. Eyes are drawn to a figure on a stage. There stands a man in a crisp white toga, his head covered by a brown leather cap. He wears a thick red cloak that's brinjed around the edges. His clasped below the neckline with a delicate gold brooch.

Starting point is 00:30:17 He recognized this outfit as that of the Flamon. State-sponsored priests each assigned to a deity. The man chants in tuneful Latin and the crowd seem to hang on his every word. Though you don't understand the words words that he speaks, you're no less enraptured by his presence and performance. In his hand he carries a hanging oil lamp. You can see the flame flickering at its center. The scent of roses radiates outwards and washes over the attentive audience. The realization comes to you now, carried along on a wave of rose oil. This man must be the flame in floralis, the priest who oversees the worship of Flora. What you're watching now must be part of Floraulia, the festival held to honor the goddess. The people are dressed in their brightest colors to honor the deity who embodies springtime. The priest, you suspect, offers blessings to the goddess and to the crowd too, before exiting the stage.

Starting point is 00:32:00 He gestures to the people to follow in his footsteps and continues onwards through the streets of Rome. The music had paused for the words of the priest, but it begins once again as the procession starts to move. Strings and percussion form a soothing background to the song from the priest at the front. The steps of the group become softer and slower, voices Voices hush in respectful reference. The parade seems to flow like the water of a river, pulled downstream by music and rose oil. Your journey takes you away from the village toward the heart of Rome's inner city.

Starting point is 00:33:09 The buildings become larger and grander along the path. There are halls, temples, synod and bathhouses. Some of these buildings are situated along the path between manicured gardens, shrines and sculptures. Many are positioned at the base of a valley beside the enormous frame of an open-air stadium. You recognize the structure as the circus maximus, the ancient equivalent of an entertainment complex. You read somewhere that it was Rome's first stadium, and that it remained the largest throughout the Empire's duration. From the top of the path, it forms a massive stone oblong with layered wooden bleachers that rise from within. These can seed over 150,000 spectators who come to watch events on the sand.

Starting point is 00:34:39 The festival is the setting for the loody or games held in conjunction with religious festivals. The loody pluralis will provide six days of entertainment. There will be chariot races, plays, competitions and exhibitions. The seats of the arena are empty at present, but you can make out figures at the center of the sand. You wonder if their actors engaged in dress rehearsal, practicing their parts before the opening play. Practicing their parts before the opening play. For a few minutes now, he paused on the path and take in the view of this ancient city. This is Rome in the second chapter of its history. It's the Roman Republic before it was an empire.

Starting point is 00:35:50 You've seen paintings of Rome in its later years when the city is more crowded with marble and limestone. Your view here resembles such beautiful depictions, only its less built-up with more space between structures. Enormous structures like the famed Colosseum have yet to dominate the city's landscape, so the eyes are drawn to the circus maximus, striking against the backdrop of the swirling river tibre. The water homes gently below the sounds of the procession, you close your eyes and take a moment to listen. The river flows beneath the rhythm of drumbeats and asserting melodies of the liars. The voice of the priest echoes out from afar.

Starting point is 00:37:03 It rises upwards from the valley below. His chanting is carried along the breeze that tickles your neck and wafes through your clothing. On it too are those cents of the season, flowers, perfume, bath oils, and incense. There are other smells as well, from stalls around the stadium, you smell wine, roast chicken, and bread as it's baking. Opening your eyes now, you find the view altered. The city is now decorated with the beauty of the parade. The streets are lined with thousands of citizens. They catch the eye in their brightly dyed tunics.

Starting point is 00:38:12 From above, the streets form a river of flowers. Headed by the priest, they flow into the city. They swirl down the slopes between two hills, into the valley, and around the all-blong stadium. The priest at the front is barely visible. He's a blur of red leading the parade. You can see that he's heading in the direction of a building, a grand looking temple opposite the arena. Once again, you resume your journey,

Starting point is 00:38:59 rejoining the procession on the downward slope. The path beneath your feet is a wash in petals. You see the scarlet red of roses and the muted pink of pianies. There's the gold and yellow of honey-sackle blossoms and the snowy white of lily of the valley. You travel in the sense of these beautiful spring flowers, almost seeming to float downhill. With each step you take, the city becomes larger. The building's true proportions are revealed on the ground. You follow the parade around the circus maximus, odd by the height of its huge stone walls. They're so large in places that they block out the sunlight and lead to the illusion that evening has come early. It's entirely pleasant to walk in the shade amongst Romans in a state of dreamy reverie.

Starting point is 00:40:30 If you hadn't already seen the crowd of thousands, you might think yourself walking with just a handful of people. You feel as if you're part of some sacred pilgrimage with a crowd that moves as a single entity. What steps are synchronized in easy unison, sounds are muffled on the layer of petals. You capture the scent of a beautiful perfume as the road widens and the crowd veers out. It emanates from within a Roman litter, a popular mode of transport with the wealthier citizens. It has the appearance of a four-poster bed carried above the crowd by servants at each corner. The lady within is visible on a cushion. She's reclining on an elbow behind neatly drawn curtains.

Starting point is 00:41:49 She wears a tunic of fine layered silk. It's a shade of yellow, the color of pollen. Around her head and neck, she wears garlands of carnations, their frilly heads are striking in a pinkish purple shade. The servants who carry her have the grace of ballerinas, they effortlessly traverse the busy city streets. You follow them to the area where the parade has halted in front of the temple opposite the stadium. There you see the priest, unraised stone steps below the portico roof of this palatial building, he

Starting point is 00:42:49 splanked by columns of soaring white marble, with veins of blacks whirling on their surface. The air around the temple smells like freshly cut marble. It gives the impression of being recently built. It seems to shine brighter than the neighbors around it, especially in the glow of afternoon sunlight. More light glows from inside the temple. It radiates outwards in waves of gold. The bottom of a statue is visible through a doorway.

Starting point is 00:43:39 You see the flowing layers of a floor-length tunic. The audience has fallen silent as the priest performs his final rights. The faces around you are relaxed and peaceful. Many seem absorbed absorbed in their own private prayer. After speaking for some time, the priest pauses, had a member of the crowd motions toward him. A man kneels before him, his arms outstretched. He holds out and offering for the priest to take. Moving closer, you see what it is. It's a large garland of ruby red roses. You don't think you've ever seen flowers as elegant or as beautiful, or smelled any blooms as sweet and hypnotic. The priest treats the flowers as if there's something very precious. He rests the garland on his outstretched palms before moving slowly into the temple.

Starting point is 00:45:08 The crowd outside remains quiet and thoughtful. As you walk the steps to the open doorway, you stand on the stone and look into the temple. You can watch the ceremony as it continues inside. You see that the priest is kneeling below an altar. He continues to speak with his eyes on the floor. His tone has softened to a gentle whisper, one that seems fitting in this sanctuary of a temple. He lays down the roses on top of the altar between two lit candles in ornate gold stands. Then slowly he steps toward the center of the room where he bows at the feet of a massive white statue. From where you stand now at the entrance to the temple, you can see the figure in its entirety.

Starting point is 00:46:29 It's the goddess Flora and all her splendor. The figure you saw earlier on the library door. She is entirely made of sculpted marble, reaching a height of maybe 10 feet. Her body is draped in a floor-length tunic. It hangs off one shoulder beneath her free flowing curls. The layers of the fabric have been expertly sculpted, they ripple and wrinkle as if swaying in a breeze. Equally intricate are the petals of many flowers, those held in her hands and worn in decoration. The marble statue is entirely white, except for the flowers in circling her head. These have been painted. They form a striking crown of ruby-colored roses.

Starting point is 00:47:55 It's a statue befitting of an ancient goddess, a deity worshiped since Rome's early years. She looks strong and regal, yet delicate and kind. She's the physical embodiment of the season of springtime. You feel movement behind you at the doorway, and turning. You see that a cue is forming. People walk to the steps in single-vile and set down their offerings for the priest to collect. One by one, he takes the gifts inside, filling the temple with bouquets and garlands, they decorate the base of the White marble statue alongside candles and offerings of fresh fruit. More placed around the altar and laid outside along the steps of the building. Soon the white temple is alive with color, the steps barely visible

Starting point is 00:49:11 under a sea of blossoms. There the priest stands once the offerings have been made and gives the crowd a parting blessing. When he's finished speaking, the musicians resume playing and again the air is filled with the sweetest music. It feels like an ending and also a beginning. There's the sense that springtime is now well and truly here. People outside the temple begin to shake hands, sharing words of kindness with friends and strangers. Those in the crowds holding baskets of petals

Starting point is 00:50:08 throw them upwards where they float through the air. This includes the lady on her bed like litter raised above the crowd just near where you stand. Raised above the crowd, just near where you stand. The petals that she scatters are lily of the valley, and a soft hue of ivory white. Throne from her height, they fall like snowflakes. They're like nature's confetti, drifting with vanilla sweetness. Some of the people begin to disperse, heading off in different directions.

Starting point is 00:50:58 Some walk towards the circus maximus, to take their seats for the opening play. Others make their way towards the local vendors to dine and drink before going elsewhere. For now, you're happy to stay where you are under the spell of so many flowers. You close your eyes and breathe in their fragrance until you feel yourself floating through time and space. When you open your eyes, you're back in the library on those lovely cushions, the colors of a woodland. The glass ceiling above you now reveals that night has fallen. You The light-black book remains closed beside you. You can smell sweet flowers rising from its surface. You note the white of lily of the valley, a single blossom, loose atop the cover.

Starting point is 00:52:35 This lovely blossom is the last thing you see before you close your eyes and think into the cushions, you bask in its sense as you feel yourself drift into a deep, dreamy and breath bowl sleep. ... 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. ... 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 00:54:37 I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. 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. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. ... you I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room.

Starting point is 00:56:06 I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room.

Starting point is 00:56:22 I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. ... you you you ... ... you you you ... you you you you

Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - The Roman Festival of Floralia

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