Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep - In the Library

Episode Date: October 8, 2018

Our story tonight is called “In the Library” and it’s a story about a day spent in the cool quiet company of books. It’s also about an early morning cup of coffee, the first cool days of Autumn, and the excitement of a new book. 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 Season 2 of 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. Thank you for listening, and for sharing our stories with anyone you know who likes relaxing and good sleep. And be sure to follow us on Facebook and Instagram for some extra coziness.

Now let me say a little about how to use this podcast. I'm about to tell you a bedtime story. And just like the stories you heard when you were little, it's meant to ease you into peaceful sleep. I'll tell our story twice, and I'll go a bit slower the second time through. The story is like a cozy nest for your mind, a soft place for it to focus on, so that the thoughts and the worries of the day can lose their grip on you.

If you find that you are still awake at the end of the first or second telling, don't worry, relax, and think your way back through the details of the story. Especially any parts that seemed sweet or comforting. This works even if you wake again in the middle of the night. Instead of turning your brain back on, go back to what you remember of the story. Rest your mind there. And before you know it, you'll be waking up tomorrow, feeling rested and ready for another day. Now it's time to turn down your light and put away anything you've been looking at.

Snuggle down into your favorite sleep position and send a signal through your system that it's time to relax. snuggle down into your favorite sleep position, and send a signal through your system that it's time to relax and sleep. Let's take a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth. Do that one more time. In. And out.

Our story tonight is called In the Library. And it's a story about a day spent in the cool, quiet company of books. It's also about an early morning cup of coffee, the first cool days of autumn, and the excitement of a new book. In the Library Those first few steps into the library always surprise me. I forget, when it's been a while, how quiet and cool it is.

How the scent of the books, dusty and sweet, rushes up at you as soon as you open the door. And how keenly inviting the scent of all those books are. Even if I'm just stepping in to return my recent reads, I find I can't help but walk through the stacks for a few minutes and admire the quiet order of the reading rooms. Today I was here for more than just a few minutes, so I took my time. It was my day off, and I'd gotten up early just to make a cup of coffee

and crawl back into bed with it. I'd opened the shades in my bedroom and lounged with my cup, looking out at the changing light for a while. I listened to my kitty purring on the blanket beside me. She was lazily looking out of the window too, and every now and then her tail would flick suddenly, and then like a wisp of smoke from a blown-out candle,

it would curl and slowly settle back to the bed. I wondered what made that flick happen. What were her kiddie thoughts stirred by? I laid a hand on her back and felt the soothing thrum of her purr. I smiled to myself as I made my plans for the day. We were only in the first cool days of autumn, leaves just beginning to shift and fall. The nights were getting colder, but by midday the sun warmed the air and it was comfortable. Actually, it was really pleasant to wear a sweater

and feel the sun on your back and the cool air on your face. So I decided to walk to town and spend some time in the stacks at my library. I slung a bag with a few necessities across my body and tied my shoes and stepped out to breathe in the mid-morning air. I saw a few people walking dogs or bringing in groceries as I made my way through the neighborhood streets and closer to town. It was a little city, really just a few major streets and side alleys, but we had a couple nice cafes, an old cinema with a pretty marquee,

where they always showed one old movie along with the new ones, a big green park in the center of town, and a really good library. I got there just a few minutes after they opened, but there were already a few bikes parked at the rack, and a steady stream of patrons coming and going, some with children hanging from each hand, others with serious-looking book bags, laptops peeking out, ready to get to work, and some, like me, just looking to be close to books,

and curious to see what I might find. I slid in through the glass front doors and took a moment to look around. I could head straight into the stacks or take the scenic route through the children's section. I picked scenic and took a few minutes to wander past the big story books and tiny chairs I smiled at a dad sitting in the middle of an aisle with his daughter on his lap as he read

and nodded at the librarians as they reshelved books and tidied up the desk in one of the main rooms there were neat rows of tables broad, empty workspaces with identical reading lamps, old chairs, and wastebaskets. I loved the sameness repeating through the space. It made me feel calm and focused. I found a spot for myself, set my bag down, and took a thermos of tea and set it out on the desktop. Then I looked around at the rows of books and started

to wander the aisles. I let my eyes move over the titles. Like any reader, I have my favorites, but I always browsed in unfamiliar sections. That is one of the really exciting things about being surrounded by so many books. They are all around you, and you can just pull them down and start reading, and you never know when or where you will find the one that opens you up and makes you wonder or laugh or cry or just live differently after. I'd only planned to get a book or two,

but after an hour of browsing and sampling, I had five. I sat for a few minutes back at the neat desk, sipping tea and skimming pages, deciding which one I would start first, when my stomach gave a low warning rumble. I thought about staying put a bit longer, but since one of the only things more enjoyable than reading a new book is reading a new book while you eat a sandwich, I decided to check out my armful of Fresh Picks and go. In the park, there was a kiosk that sold ice cream and coffee and sandwiches and cold drinks. I queued up with some office workers on their break and waited my turn to order the one with lots of pickles on it, please. They wrapped it up in brown paper for me, gave me an apple as well, and sent me on my way.

I settled onto a bench in a quiet corner of the park, unwrapped my sandwich, and noticed the cool autumn air around me. I've always thought that each season had its own best kind of leisurely pursuit. Winter Winter was for movies Spring was for poetry Summer was for music And autumn Autumn was for books I thought about the books I'd checked out I'd got myself a book about the cosmos

and concepts that I'd always wanted to understand but never had. And then a mystery set in an English country house. And a memoir. And a novel that I'd picked up just because I liked the cover. And a book about what might have happened if lots of things in Earth's history had gone differently. I thumbed through the book with a pretty cover. It had unexpectedly beautiful illustrations and engravings throughout. I read a bit, then shifted to the memoir for a moment,

noticing where a few pages had been folded over by a previous reader. I knew down deep I was going to go straight for that country house mystery and hope that the butler hadn't done it, but I pretended for a few more minutes that I might finally read about the multiverses and the string theories. Then brushing the crumbs off my lap, I opened my new book and started to read. In the library. Those first few steps into the library always surprise me. I forget, when it's been a while, how quiet and cool it is, how the scent of the books, dusty and sweet,

rushes up at you as soon as you open the door, and how keenly inviting the sight of all those books are. Even if I'm just stepping in to return my recent reads, I find I can't help but walk through the stacks for a few minutes and admire the quiet order of the reading rooms. Today I was here for more than just a few minutes, so I took my time. It was my day off, and I'd gotten up early just to make a cup of coffee and crawl back into bed with it.

I'd opened the shades in my bedroom and lounged with my cup, looking out at the changing light for a while. I listened to my kitty, purring on the blanket beside me. She was lazily looking out of the window, too, and every now and then her tail would flick suddenly, and then like a wisp of smoke from a blown-out candle, it would curl and slowly settle back to the bed. I wondered what made that flick happen. What were her kitty thoughts stirred by? I laid a hand on her back and felt the soothing thrum of her purr. I smiled to myself as I made my plans for the day. We were only in the first cool days of autumn, leaves just beginning to shift and fall. The nights were getting colder, but by midday the sun warmed the air, and it was comfortable.

Actually, it was really pleasant to wear a sweater and feel the sun on your back and the cool air on your face. So I decided to walk to town and spend some time in the stacks at my library. I slung a bag with a few necessities across my body and tied my shoes and stepped out to breathe in the mid-morning air. I saw a few people walking dogs or bringing in groceries as I made my way through the neighborhood streets and closer to town. a few people walking dogs or bringing in groceries as I made my way through the neighborhood streets and closer to town. It was a little city, really just a few major streets and side alleys, but we had a couple nice cafes, an old cinema with a pretty marquee where they always showed one old movie along with the

new ones, a big green park in the center of town, and a really good library. I got there just a few minutes after they opened, but there were already a few bikes parked at the rack, and a steady stream of patrons coming and going, some with children hanging from each hand, others with serious-looking book bags, laptops peeking out, ready to get to work and some, like me, just looking to be close to books and curious to see what I might find. I slid in through the glass front doors

and took a moment to look around. I could head straight into the stacks or take the scenic route through the children's section. I picked scenic and took a few minutes to wander past the big story books and tiny chairs. I smiled at a dad sitting in the middle of an aisle with his daughter on his lap as he read, and nodded at the librarians as they reshelved books and tidied up the desk.

In one of the main rooms, there were neat rows of tables, broad, empty workspaces with identical reading lamps, old chairs, and wastebaskets. I loved the sameness repeating through the space. It made me feel calm and focused. I found a spot for myself, set my bag down and took a a thermos of tea from it, and set it out on my desktop. Then I looked around the rows of books, and started to wander the aisles. I let my eyes move over the titles. Like any reader, I have my favorites. But I always browsed in unfamiliar sections.

That is one of the really exciting things about being surrounded by so many books. They are all around you, and you can just pull them down and start reading, and you never know when or where you will find the one that opens you up and makes you wonder or laugh or cry or just live differently after. I'd only planned to get a book or two, but after an hour of browsing and sampling, I had five.

I sat for a few minutes back at the neat desks, sipping tea and skimming pages, deciding which one I would start first, when my stomach gave a low warning rumble. I thought about staying put a bit longer, but since one of the only things more enjoyable than reading a new book is reading a new book while you eat a sandwich, I decided to check out my armful of fresh picks and go. In the park, there was a kiosk that sold ice cream and coffee and sandwiches and cold drinks. I queued up with some office workers on their break and waited my turn to order the one with lots of pickles on it, please.

They wrapped it up in brown paper for me, gave me an apple as well, and sent me on my way. I settled onto a bench in a quiet corner of the park, unwrapped my sandwich, and noticed the cool autumn air all around me. I've always thought that each season had its own best kind of leisurely pursuit.

Winter was for movies. Spring was for poetry. Summer was for music. And autumn. Autumn was for books. I thought about the books I'd checked out. I'd got myself a book about the cosmos and concepts that I'd always wanted to understand but never had. And a mystery set in an English country house. And a memoir and a novel that I'd picked up just because I'd liked the cover. And a book about what might have happened if lots of things in Earth's history had gone differently.

I thumbed through the book with a pretty cover. It had unexpectedly beautiful illustrations and engravings throughout. I read a bit, then shifted to the memoir for a moment, noticing where a few pages had been folded over by a previous reader. I knew I was going to go straight for the country house mystery, and hope that the butler hadn't done it, but I pretended for a few more minutes that I might finally read about the multiverses and the string theories. Then, brushing the crumbs off my lap, I opened my new book and started to read. Sweet dreams.