Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - The Three Names of Morgan Le Fay
Episode Date: September 10, 2025Narrator: Chloe De Burgh 🇬🇧Writer: Frankie Regalia ✍️Sound effects: crickets 🌾 Welcome back, sleepyheads. Tonight, follow the triple goddess — the Morrígan, Morgan Le Fay, and Modro...n — as she searches the woods for magical herbs and recalls the stories told about her throughout the British Isles. 😴 Includes mentions of: Magic, Fertility, Fantastical Creatures, Cows, Birds, Horses, Animals, Fantasy, Fairytale, British History, Myths & Legends. Watch, listen and comment on this episode on the Get Sleepy YouTube channel. And hit subscribe while you're there! Enjoy various playlists of our stories and meditations on our Slumber Studios Spotify profile. Tonight's Sponsors Shopify. Sign up for a $1 per month trial period at shopify.com/getsleepy. Support Us Get Sleepy’s Premium Feed: getsleepy.com/support/ Get Sleepy Merchandise: getsleepy.com/store Leave us a review on Apple Podcasts: podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/get-sleepy/id1487513861 Connect Stay up to date on all our news and even vote on upcoming episodes! Website: getsleepy.com/ Facebook: facebook.com/getsleepypod/ Instagram: instagram.com/getsleepypod/ Twitter: twitter.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 story-telling 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. Get Sleepy Premium Get instant access to ad-free episodes and Thursday night bonus episodes by subscribing to our premium feed. It's easy! Sign up in two taps! Get Sleepy Premium feed includes: Monday and Wednesday night episodes (with zero ads). An exclusive Thursday night bonus episode. Access to the entire back catalog (also ad-free). Extra-long episodes. Exclusive sleep meditation episodes. Discounts on merchandise. We’ll love you forever. Get your 7-day free trial: getsleepy.com/support. Thank you so much for listening! Feedback? Let us know your thoughts! getsleepy.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
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Good evening and welcome to get sleepy.
Where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
Thanks so much for joining us.
My name is Thomas and I'm your host.
But tonight you'll be hearing the voice of Chloe reading our tale.
It's a unique and dreamy story written by Frankie.
We'll be spending some time with a magical and powerful woman
who has been found in many forms across the British Isles.
She is the Morrigan, Modron and Morgan Lafay.
She is three women in one and a shapeshifter.
Tonight, she's making a potion of fertility and protection for the benefit of the islands in her care.
Before we hear that, though, if you love listening to Get Sleepy and would like to support the ongoing production of the show,
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One of the favorite perks for our premium members is that every week we release a brand new
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Our story takes place on a peaceful farm where you'll spend the day attending to the animals
and baking a special treat.
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It would mean the world to have your support.
So, my friends, it's time to settle in and prepare for our story.
So let's move through that process together.
for the next couple of minutes.
Arrange your body with care and purpose.
Listen to what it needs,
perhaps more support at the neck,
at the knees or hips.
Check in with each part,
adjusting and shifting as you'd like
craft your comfort like a sculptor
smoothing out all your edges
rest comes not only from the body
but also from the mind
Allow each persistent thought, worry or care to drift away.
If needed, they'll return another day when you're more able to address them.
Now, imagine yourself sitting there.
by a pool of deep water, as each new thought drifts to the surface, observe it, and then allow it to sink
back down to the depths.
Where we are going tonight, you will not need these thoughts.
So let each of them sink down, out of mind.
Already you can feel the healing magic of Morgan Le Fay.
Allow the calming force to wash over you
and bring you closer and closer to deep rest.
And now, let's join her in a timeless place where she makes her magic.
This is where our story begins.
names are funny things the woman thinks to herself she has had so very many over the years how many years has it been she has lost count now
age is of no importance but names have power
she has three names and is sometimes known as the three in one
the one who is three
she has found all over the world
but in these little free aisles on the edge of the Atlantic
she is remembered best.
Firstly, she was the morgan.
She likes that her name begins with the.
She is the only one and should be named as such.
In Ireland, they respected and revered her first and best
as the shape-shifting goddess of protection, victory, courage, animals, and fate.
The Morrigan reflects on this part of her identity as she stands in front of her mirror.
She considers her human reflection and feels the familiar desire to change into her favorite form.
but a raven's beak and little black feet are no better for picking herbs and stirring a potion
than her long-fingered hands so for now she must remain as she is the morrigan moves away from the mirror
and crosses her large, elegant bedroom.
It is a circular room with high windows and a higher ceiling.
The space is decorated in shades of blue,
with velvet curtains at the windows,
and around the foreposter bed.
The furniture,
is carved dark wood, inlaid with glimmering abalone and mother of pearl.
The morrigan crosses to one of the windows and looks out over her castle of dark stone.
The windows are all stained glass, casting rainbow light throughout the hallways and rooms.
The dark stone of the walls is nearly black,
setting the building out against the rich green of the surrounding forest
and the brilliant blue of the sky.
It is small for a castle,
with only one tower and a few rooms below.
The tower is, of course, the morgan's quarrel.
quarters. From here, she can see nearly the entire island. Restless to begin her task,
the Morrigan turns and gracefully ventures down the winding stairs to the main part of the
castle. She whips her black velvet coat over her deep red dress.
and makes for the stables.
Her huge black horse is waiting for her.
Nearly as tall as a cottage,
the horse seems almost insurmountable.
But she is a docile creature and waits patiently
as the morrigan swings herself gracefully onto her back.
They trot out of the stables together
and follow one of the innumerable animal paths through the forest.
What ingredients of her potion should she collect first?
Those needed for protection, perhaps.
They are the most important, and the most numerous.
She turns her horse towards a thicket of holly
and hops down to pick a few of the pointed shiny leaves.
The morrigan reflects on the power of protection.
Sometimes protection means being the shield
and sometimes the sword with a point sharper than these holly.
leaves. For many years, she protected Ireland, both in times of war and peace. She protected
its heroes, none more so than Kuhullin. Their relationship was complex to say the least,
but she always tried to keep him safe
as the people's great hero
his safety bolstered and uplifted the people of Ireland
she was always good at picking champions
rather than getting back on her horse
the morrigan leads her from the holly tree
and to a nearby patch of aromatic herbs.
She has them dried in the kitchen of her castle,
but fresh is always better when making magic.
Dill, oregano, and parsley are all grown side by side,
perfuming the air around them.
The Morrigan takes out her small silver knife and cuts a few sprigs, being sure not to take too much.
The morrigan is a caretaker of this forest, in which she can find every plant, herb, flower, and root she could ever need.
this is the gift of her island the island itself has been called many things over the course of
human history and has been rumoured to be many different places for years the humans of the
British Isles thought volcanic Sicily was her island.
They were mistaken, for her island cannot be found on any map of the world.
It is both part of the world and apart from it.
The Irish knew it as Tirnanog.
the people of the neighboring island called it avalon whatever it has been called
it has always served as the base from which she could heal protect and nurture all other parts of the world
Having collected her herbs, the morrigan climbs atop her huge horse once again.
She is looking for a patch of Vervain, though she does not remember exactly where it is located.
The island can seem very small and incredibly large sometimes.
The horse carries her unhurriedly through the greenery.
The morrigan hears lowing through the trees and realizes she is near the cattle pastures.
She gently nudges her horse further into the forest and away from her herd of great red cattle.
A heifer is one of her favorite forms to take, when appearing to humans.
It is such an unexpected and domestic animal, yet so important to the people of times past.
She likes to remind humankind that she is as necessary to them as the cattle.
they depend upon.
The forest becomes dark around the morgan and her horse.
She can feel the eyes of numerous animals on her, but has no fear.
The morrigan herself, from time to time, runs through this forest as one of the creatures.
of the dark.
She closes her eyes and remembers the feeling of having four strong legs,
keen pointed ears, and a long snout.
Always the lone wolf at other times.
She revels in the freedom and companionship of running through the woods with the real wolf.
They accept her as one of their own
in ways that no other creature can
She has to stop herself from leaning into the yearning
To howl at the moon
Now is not the time
Finally she finds the vervain
And adds a few leaves to her collection
She ties her five herbs into a small purple linen bag
and whispers a protective charm over it,
making it even more powerful.
She has always known the ways of magic,
but the ancient Britons told each other
that she learned her skills from a nunnery.
or even worse, from the magician Merlin.
They called her Morgan Lefei, Morgan the Fairy,
and knew her best in connection to an ancient king.
This is also who she is.
Morgan Lefei turns her attention to the next ingredients on her mental list,
those for cleansing and healing.
Whatever the many stories about her may say,
she has always been a healer.
It was she who took Arthur, her friend and beloved half-brother,
from the world of man.
onto her island to heal and live forever.
More than just a healer, witch, and courtier,
she spent her years in Arthur's court,
utilising her skills as a mathematician,
astronomer, and strategist.
It was her last significant interference,
in the world of man, but it was also her greatest.
Even today, who knows how many years later, one cannot say the name of King Arthur, without following it with Morgan Le Fay.
First, for the cleansing.
Morgan Le Fay steers her horse towards a patch of rosemary and sage
that grows on the edge of a nearby clearing
and grabs a handful of pine needles
as she passes a low bow.
These three herbs are not for stewing in her great cauldron
but for burning during the ritual.
She hops off her horse and collects her herbs,
cutting a few extra to smell as she walks through the clearing,
her horse following slowly behind her.
Morgan LeVay looks up at the brilliant sun
and closes her eyes,
allowing the golden rays to warm her face.
Her thoughts turned to her sisters.
Though Arthur was her half-brother,
she also has two full sisters.
Morgan Lefei, though called a fairy,
is the most human version of herself.
complete with a family.
Yet, her sisters were facets of the whole woman she is now.
She is the triple goddess, after all.
One sister was evil.
One sister was benignly good,
and Morgan herself is somewhere between.
both good and bad such as all humans are in the same way that she has been three sisters at the same time
she has also been three ages at once the maiden the mother and the crone
Throughout the myths, legends and folk tales of these islands run the same three women.
The maiden is young, pure, and free, while the crone is old, wise, and mysterious.
There is yet another name for Morgan Le Fay when she is the mother.
for mothers have powers of their own.
Her thoughts are brought back to the here and now
when she feels the soft carpet of low-growing camemile beneath her bare feet.
Morgan Le Fay follows the patch to the flowers and collects a large bagful.
Some she will use for her potion, and some she will use for her tea.
Such a wonderfully helpful and healing plant is chamomile, but it alone will not suffice for her spell.
She must combine it with other healing herbs.
Following her nose, Morgan Lefei spots a wild and untamed bush of mint.
She sighs to herself, knowing that this herb needs more work.
She pats her horse fondly on the rump, letting her know that she can graze for a bit while Morgan Lefei works.
The fairy then turns back to the mint plant.
First, she takes a large handful for her potion.
Then she grabs a leaf and chews it thoughtfully.
She relishes the feeling of the mint oil spreading through her mouth
and bringing the refreshing boost of cool sensation.
Finally, she pulls out her large plant scissors
and begins to trim back the mint.
As she works, Morgan Lefei reflects on the persistent determination of mint
to take over any garden.
Like Ivy,
and broom.
She has to keep an eye on it for the health of the garden,
carefully cutting it back when it gets out of hand.
The sun warms her as she works
and the smell of mint is soon mingled
with the comforting smell of earth and vegetation.
She pauses for a moment.
wiping the well-earned sweat from her brow
and watches a couple of emerald green butterflies
chase one another around.
Her work finished.
Morgan Le Fay stands and brushes the dirt from her hands.
She sets off with her tools and her sprigs of mint to find her horse.
The horse is.
is munching happily in some tall wild grasses, not far away.
Morgan Le Fay comes up to the animal and places her loot in the large satchels she brought with her.
She is about to gently chide her horse for forcing her to come so far off her intended route
when she spots the last healing herb, peaking through the grasses, Yarrow.
The horse snorts in a self-satisfied way, and Morgan Le Fay decides not to comment.
She takes a few stalks of Yarrow.
She pauses, thinking of the final.
three ingredients she needs,
mistletoe,
lavender, and poppy.
These are plants for peace,
and in the case of mistletoe,
fertility.
She debated about adding
the mistletoe to this potion,
but decided that protection,
healing, and cleansing,
were pointless.
without growth
growth in the sense of fertile lands for crops
nurturing development in children
and personal betterment
of all humankind
growth is
after all
one of the main responsibilities
of Modron
the mother goddess
This is also who she is.
Modron mounts her horse and looks up at the sky, noting the lateness of the hour.
They ride back towards the castle as Modron knows.
There is a growth of mistletoe nestled in a juniper tree nearby.
Missletoe is another plant she keeps an eye on, but the juniper tree seems to enjoy the company,
and Modron needs white mistletoe seeds every once in a while for her magic.
Modron rides her tall black horse right into the stable and puts down her bags,
The few remaining herbs can wait
She needs to care for her sweet companion
That has carried her throughout the forest all day
Modron makes sure there is food and water
Before taking a soft brush
And tending to the horse's shiny black coat
The horse leans into each stroke, enjoying the pampering treatment.
Modron hums the song under her breath.
In Wales, they used to tell stories of Modron and the long lengths she went to in order to save her son.
They celebrated her devotion and love.
Modran thinks of her son now.
She thinks of all her sons and daughters
in every story told throughout these aisles,
for she is always in them as the mother.
Sometimes she goes out to save her children.
Sometimes she is their counsellor
And sometimes she merely waits for them
To return from their adventures, world-weary and changed.
Having put her horse away for the night,
Maudron grabs a few white berries from the lower branches
Of the juniper tree.
she then follows a stone path around the base of the castle to her small flower patch
she cuts the purple lavender and brings it to her nose
modron takes a deep breath allowing the scent of the flowers to wash over her
and calm her after a long day.
Then she leans down and picks one large red poppy with papery petals.
At last, she has her ingredients.
She takes her satchels to a grove of willow tree.
next to a babbling spring just below the castle.
If she looks, she can see the walls
through the drooping vines of the willow.
At the center of the grove
is a huge pewter cauldron.
It is so large
that a man could sit in it quite comfortably.
modron starts a fire below it and gets to work first she burns the pine needles and sage walking three times around the cauldron to cleanse it
she passes each hand through the smoke of the herbs and then her big wooden spoon the spoon the spoon
looks like a small ore meant for moving liquid around and manipulating it easily.
The sky is getting darker, and the sun is making a dive towards the horizon now.
And this magical woman, she is the three-in-one.
Maiden?
mother crone these are all who she is
Morgan Le Fay places the Rosemary in the cauldron
and rubs it around its belly-like walls for the final act of purification
she then takes a few buckets of water from the creek
and empties them into the cauldron.
She thinks about the human world
and her desire to heal it,
renew it and make it healthy.
Into the pot, go the chamomile,
yarrow and mint.
The steam from the cauldron smells refreshing.
and clears her mind.
The morrigan calls upon her strength
to protect humans whom she loves
and watches over.
There is a soft plopping sound
as the vervain,
holly leaves,
dill, oregano and parsley
fall into the simmering liquid.
It is impossible to tell the color of the potion as it sits in the black-bottomed cauldron under the quickly darkening sky.
All that can be seen is the reflection of the sunset from between the tops of the willow trees.
Purple, pink, and orange
seem to streak the surface in swirling shades.
Mardron calls upon her deep, nurturing love
as she adds the mistletoe berries.
She adds the lavender and poppy seeds for peace of the mind,
Body and spirit for humanity.
She places her wooden spoon into the potion and stirs anti-clockwise, humming her strange song.
The sun is nearly gone now, but the surface of the potion seems to glitter and sparkle,
as though reflecting the golden light.
of a summer's day.
The triple goddess, the fairy, the magical woman,
looks down at her lovely creation.
It simmers happily as she dips her long-fingered hands into it.
The potion, which would feel quite warm to a stranger,
is merely cool and comforting in her hands.
She cups them,
lifts a hand of the potion out of the cauldron,
and throws it into the air.
No liquid falls back down on her, however.
It floats away on the wind,
over the entire human world.
The goddess's gift of peace, protection, and healing falls over her precious green aisles as much as anywhere else.
It touches the woods, fields and hills that have told her story.
for generations.
A job done, the goddess looks up at the dark blue sky and the brightening moon.
She bends her knees and leaps into the air, allowing her arms to become sleek, black
wings.
She is the raven once again
and flies into the night
to watch over the world.
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