Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep - Early to Yoga

Episode Date: June 2, 2018

Our story tonight is called “Early to Yoga” and it’s a story about the comfort of a quiet safe place. It’s also about the feeling of privacy and the ease and serenity that come from someone showing you a little tenderness and affection. So get cozy and ready to sleep. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.Purchase Our Book: https://bit.ly/Nothing-Much-HappensSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Grownups, in which nothing much happens. You feel good, and then you fall asleep. All stories are written and read by me, Katherine Nicolai, with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. Let me say something about how to use this podcast. I'm about to tell you a bedtime story. It's a simple story, without much action, but full of relaxing detail. Sometimes, when you try to fall asleep asleep you find that your mind races and it's tricky to slow it down or direct it

while the story is like an inviting well-organized garage that we steer your racing mind into and as you follow along with the simple shape of the story, your mind slows to a stop until there is nothing left to do but sleep. I'll tell our story twice, and I'll go a little slower the second time through. If you find yourself still awake at the end of the second telling, don't worry. That's sometimes how it goes.

You could listen again, or just walk yourself back through the bits you can remember. You're training your brain and body to wind down. And the more often you do it, the faster you will fall asleep. So have a bit of patience at the beginning. And if you find yourself awake again later in the night, think back through the story again to go right back to sleep. Now it's time to turn off the light and to put away anything that isn't your sleep mask or your teddy bear. Take some time to adjust your body into the most comfortable position you can find. This is part of a habit-making technique, which cues your body and mind to settle and rest.

So go ahead, make all the adjustments you need to, until you find a position that is really comfortable. Now let's take a deep breath in through the nose, and a soft sigh out of the mouth. Good. Do that one more time. In and out. Our story tonight is called Early to Yoga, and it's a story about the comfort of a quiet, safe place. It's also about the feeling of privacy and the ease and serenity that come from someone showing you a little tenderness and affection. In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I am a yoga teacher and own a studio in Michigan. You may not know, if you have never been a teacher, how much warmth and goodwill your

teacher has for you. But I can tell you, it's a lot. I was early to yoga, which seemed like a miracle, because all day I'd been behind and racing to catch up. From the moment I woke up that day, I was already tired and a little low, and I'd spent the day fumbling through work and chores. I kept forgetting things, dropping things, and I was getting a bit nasty with myself in my own head. I needed rest, and the idea of getting to yoga

and laying my mat in that quiet, dark space was all that was keeping me going. And now, I was wonderfully early. Nearly 30 minutes till class time, but I knew the room would be open and ready. I found a parking spot a block or so from the studio and just sat in the car for a moment. I slid a journal out of my glove box and rooted around till I found a pen. It was a habit of mine to write down whatever was most pressing on my mind before I went in for my yoga practice. This seemed to help me to gain a bit of space for my thoughts.

Because they existed in the journal, out in the physical world, they didn't have to exist in my head. My thoughts could sometimes behave like a little kid, pulling at my sleeve and demanding my attention. and when I put them down on paper, I got a break from that. I put the journal away, gathered up my mat and keys, and started walking along the downtown streets to the studio. I looked in the windows as I went, letting the sights and sounds of the early evening catch my attention. There was an orange dress in the window of a clothing store. There were people eating sandwiches and drinking mugs of coffee in the diner. There were kids playing a game, running along the sidewalks and calling out to each other

while their unzipped coats flapped around them in the cool evening air. I could smell wet pavement from the rain we'd had that day, and that fresh, black dirt smell that only happens in the spring. I could see lights on inside the studio and my teacher at the front desk lighting a candle. I already felt better. I opened the door and slipped in. I quietly took my shoes off and went to the desk to sign in. My teacher asked,

How are you? I took a breath in and blew it out and said, A bit better now. She held my gaze a moment. I see, she said. It's so good that you came tonight. Why don't you go put your legs up the wall? I nodded, appreciating that I didn't have to explain anything.

The yoga room was dark, really dark, with some candles lit, and the lights dimmed as low as they would go. The air was warm and humid. It felt easy to breathe and took the chill from my skin. The room had an orange glow from the lights reflecting on the wood floors that reminded me of sitting in front of a fire. And although I was early, there were already a handful of other students laying or sitting on their mats in the quiet. It reminded me that I wasn't the only one having a bit of a day. No one talks in this room, and no one brings their phone in, so it's very quiet.

And for the first time today, I felt really safe, and like I was no longer under the microscope. Privacy is healing. I unrolled my mat in the back corner of the room and did as my teacher suggested, sliding up close to the wall, laying my back down on the floor and swinging my legs up the wall. I immediately sighed. This shape always calms me.

I know it has to do with getting my legs up above my heart and the lymphatic fluid, blah, blah, blah, but mostly it just feels nice. Minutes passed. I kept my eyes closed. There was quiet piano music playing. I heard footsteps, and then the quiet voice of my teacher near my ear. Lay all the way onto your mat. I have something that will help.

I did as she said, and a moment later, I felt her lay a heavy blanket on top of me. I could feel little pockets of weight sewn into the fabric, and the pressure of it spread out over me and seemed to press out anxiety and tension. It was like there had been a car alarm going off inside me all day, and I'd become so used to the sound that I only noticed when it suddenly stopped. What is this? Relief, she said. She smoothed my hair and rested her hands on my shoulder for a moment. I might fall asleep, I said quietly.

Good. I'll wake you up eventually. I could hear her footsteps retreating, and then I just felt the pressure of the blanket and the warmth and the quiet of the room. I was early to yoga, which seemed like a miracle, because all day I'd been behind and racing to catch up. From the moment I woke up that day, I was already tired and a little low,

and I'd spent the day fumbling through work and chores. I kept forgetting things, dropping things, and I was getting a bit nasty with myself in my own head. I needed rest, and the idea of getting to yoga and laying my mat in that quiet, dark space was all that was keeping me going. And now, I was wonderfully early.

Nearly thirty minutes till class time, but I knew the room would be open and ready. I found a parking spot a block or so from the studio and just sat in the car for a moment. I slid a journal out of my glove box and rooted around till I found a pen. It was a habit of mine to write down whatever was most pressing on my mind before I went in for my yoga practice. This seemed to help me to gain a bit of space from my thoughts. Because they existed in the journal, out in the physical world,

they didn't have to exist in my head. My thoughts could sometimes behave like a little kid, pulling at my sleeve and demanding my attention and when I put them down on paper I got a break from that. I put the journal away gathered up my mat and keys and started walking along the downtown streets to the studio. I looked in the windows as I went,

letting the sights and sounds of the early evening catch my attention. There was an orange dress in the window of a clothing store. There were people eating sandwiches and drinking mugs of coffee in the diner. There were kids playing a game, running along the sidewalks, calling out to each other while their unzipped coats flapped around them in the cool evening air.

I could smell wet pavement from the rain we'd had that day, and that fresh, black dirt smell that only happens in the spring. I could see lights on inside the studio, and my teacher at the front desk lighting a candle. I already felt better. I opened the door and slipped in, quietly took my shoes off and went to the desk to sign in. My teacher asked,

How are you? I took a breath in, blew it out, and said, A bit better now. She held my gaze a moment. I see, she said. It's so good that you came tonight.

Go put your legs up the wall. I nodded, appreciating that I didn't have to explain anything. The yoga room was dark, really dark, with some candles lit and the lights dimmed as low as they would go. The air was warm and humid, and it felt easy to breathe and took the chill from my skin. The room had an orange glow from the lights reflecting on the wood floors that reminded me of sitting in front of a fire. And although I was early, there were already a handful of other students laying or sitting on their mats in the quiet.

It reminded me that I wasn't the only one having a bit of a day. No one talks in this room, and no one brings their phone in, so it's very quiet. And for the first time today, I felt really safe, and like I was no longer under the microscope. Privacy is healing. I unrolled my mat in the back corner of the room and did as my teacher suggested,

sliding up close to the wall, laying my back down on the floor and swinging my legs up the wall. I immediately sighed. This shape always calms me. I know it has to do with getting my legs up above my heart and the lymphatic fluid, blah blah but mostly it just feels nice minutes pass i kept my eyes closed there was quiet piano music playing i heard footsteps and then the quiet voice of my teacher near my ear.

Lay all the way onto your mat. I have something that will help. I did as she said, and a moment later, felt her lay a heavy blanket on top of me. I could feel little pockets of weights sewn into the fabric, and the pressure of it spread out over me and seemed to press out anxiety and tension. It was like there had been a car alarm going off inside me all day, and I had become so used to the sound that I only notice when it suddenly stopped.

What is this? Relief, she said. She smoothed my hair and rested her hands on my shoulders for a moment I might fall asleep I said quietly good I'll wake you up eventually I could hear her footsteps retreating

and then I just felt the pressure of the blanket and the warmth and the quiet of the room. Sweet dreams.