Speaker 1: Welcome to finding stillness in a simple morning routine, a
Speaker 1: calming slice of life audiobook designed to guide you into
Speaker 1: a peaceful and RESTful sleep. If you are enjoying this
Speaker 1: soothing experience and wish to discover more tranquil stories like this,
Speaker 1: please take a moment to like this video and subscribe
Speaker 1: to our channel for a continuous stream of relaxing content.
Speaker 1: Before we immerse ourselves in Amelia's Gentle Mourning World, we'll
Speaker 1: begin with a brief breathing guidance to help you unwind
Speaker 1: and prepare for a journey into quietude. For those who
Speaker 1: prefer to drift directly into the narrative, you can find
Speaker 1: the time stamps for each chapter conveniently located in the
Speaker 1: video description below. Now, allow yourself to settle into a
Speaker 1: comfortable position, letting your body relax fully feel the gentle
Speaker 1: support of your bed or chair beneath you, releasing any
Speaker 1: tension you may be holding, as your pillows and blankets
Speaker 1: to create a space that feels perfectly cozy and secure
Speaker 1: just for you. This is your dedicated time to let
Speaker 1: go of the day's concerns and welcome a sense of
Speaker 1: calm and tranquility into your evening, prepare to be enveloped
Speaker 1: by the peaceful rhythm of Amelia's mourning. Let's begin with
Speaker 1: a soothing breath. Gently inhale through your nose, allowing the
Speaker 1: air to feel your lungs slowly and naturally, like the
Speaker 1: soft morning light filling Amelia's room. Exhale slowly through your mouth,
Speaker 1: as if releasing a gentle sigh of contentment. With each breath.
Speaker 1: Imagine any remaining tension melting away like frost touched by
Speaker 1: the morning sun. Visualize the warmth of a tea cup
Speaker 1: in your hands, feel the gentle weight of it, and
Speaker 1: let this sensation of warmth and groundedness deepen your relaxation.
Speaker 1: If your mind wanders, simply acknowledge those thoughts without judgment,
Speaker 1: and gently guide your attention back to your breath or
Speaker 1: the sound of my voice. There's nothing else you need
Speaker 1: to do now but listen and allow the story to
Speaker 1: gently carry you towards sleep. Feel the gentle rhythm of
Speaker 1: Amelia's morning routine, the quiet sounds of the kettle, and
Speaker 1: the soft rustling of leaves in her balcony garden. Let
Speaker 1: these peaceful sounds and images wash over you, bringing a
Speaker 1: sense of serenity and quiet joy. Allow yourself to be
Speaker 1: drawn into the stillness of the morning, and let's begin
Speaker 1: our journey into Amelia's peaceful routine. Chapter one, The Kettle's
Speaker 1: Gentle Song. The first hint of dawn was just beginning
Speaker 1: to paint the sky a soft, purlssent gray when Amelia's
Speaker 1: eyes fluttered open. A gentle stillness permeated the air, a
Speaker 1: quiet hush that always felt different before the city truly awakened.
Speaker 1: She lay for a moment, listening to the faint, distant sounds,
Speaker 1: the almost imperceptible hum of traffic far below, alone, early
Speaker 1: bird chirping, a tentative melody outside her window. These were
Speaker 1: not sounds of disruption, but rather gentle whispers of life
Speaker 1: beginning anew. A comforting warmth emanated from beneath the douvet,
Speaker 1: a cozy cocoon against the cool air of the pre
Speaker 1: dawn hours. Amelia stretched languidly, feeling the gentle pull of
Speaker 1: her muscles away, a pleasant sensation of her body slowly
Speaker 1: coming to life. She took a deep breath, the air,
Speaker 1: cool and fresh, carrying a subtle hint of morning dew
Speaker 1: and the faintest trace of city dust, a familiar and
Speaker 1: comforting scent of home. With a soft sigh of contentment,
Speaker 1: she pushed back the douvet and swung her legs over
Speaker 1: the side of the bed, her feet landing softly on
Speaker 1: the woven rug beside her bed. The rug, with its
Speaker 1: slightly rough texture under her bare feet, was a grounding sensation,
Speaker 1: a gentle reminder of the physical world. She padded softly
Speaker 1: towards the kitchen, the floorboards creaking almost imperceptibly beneath her weight,
Speaker 1: a familiar sound that was more comforting than intrusive. In
Speaker 1: the kitchen, the early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains,
Speaker 1: casting soft shadows across the countertop. Amelia reached for the kettle,
Speaker 1: its cool metal smooth against her finger tips. She filled
Speaker 1: it with fresh water. The sound of the water gurgling
Speaker 1: from the tap a gentle rhythmic sound that filled the
Speaker 1: quiet kitchen. Placing the kettle on the stove, she turned
Speaker 1: the dial, the soft click of the ignition a small,
Speaker 1: decisive sound that marked the beginning of her morning ritual.
Speaker 1: As she waited for the water to heat, Amelia moved
Speaker 1: to the window and gently pushed it open, a soft
Speaker 1: whoosh of air entering the room, bringing with it the
Speaker 1: cooler outside air. The sounds of the city became a
Speaker 1: little clearer now, but still muted and distant, like a
Speaker 1: gentle background hum. She could hear the distinct chirping of birds,
Speaker 1: now a chorus of morning greetings, growing slightly louder with
Speaker 1: each passing minute. She leaned slightly out the window, taking
Speaker 1: a deep breath of the fresh air, feeling the coolness
Speaker 1: on her face. Below, in the inner courtyard garden, she
Speaker 1: could just make out the shapes of the plants in
Speaker 1: the dim light, their leaves still glistening with dew from
Speaker 1: the night. Everything felt still and expectant, waiting for the
Speaker 1: full light of day to arrive. Returning to the stove,
Speaker 1: she listened for the kettle. At first, there was only
Speaker 1: a faint humming sound, almost imperceptible, But gradually it grew
Speaker 1: a gentle, rising tone that filled the kitchen with a
Speaker 1: sense of anticipation. A humming deepened, becoming a soft rhythmic
Speaker 1: vibration that resonated through the quiet space. Then, finally, the
Speaker 1: gentle whistle began, a soft, high pitched sound that was
Speaker 1: both comforting and cheerful. It was not a jarring or
Speaker 1: insistent whistle, but a gentle, melodic song, signaling that the
Speaker 1: water was ready and her morning could truly begin. Amelia
Speaker 1: smiled softly, a feeling of quiet contentment settling over her,
Speaker 1: as she turned off the stove and reached for her
Speaker 1: favorite mug, ready to prepare her camomeal tea. The kettle's
Speaker 1: gentle song had announced the start of a new day,
Speaker 1: a day filled with the promise of simple joys and
Speaker 1: quiet moments. Two steeping camomile and morning light. The kettle
Speaker 1: now silent, Amelia carefully lifted it from the stove, the
Speaker 1: warmth radiating from its metal surface. She chose a delicate
Speaker 1: ceramic mug from the cupboard, its smooth, cool surface of
Speaker 1: pleasant contrast to the kettle's warmth. The mug was hand
Speaker 1: painted with a simple floral design in soft blues and greens,
Speaker 1: colors that always brought her a sense of calm. From
Speaker 1: a small wooden box, she selected a pinch of dried
Speaker 1: camomile flowers, their delicate, slightly papery texture. Feeling light in
Speaker 1: her palm, the scent of camomial, subtle and herbal filled
Speaker 1: the air as she gently placed the flowers into a
Speaker 1: tea infuser. The aroma was instantly soothing, a familiar and
Speaker 1: comforting fragrance that always seemed to ease her mind. She
Speaker 1: positioned the infuser in the mug and slowly poured the
Speaker 1: hot water over the camomeal, watching as the dried flowers
Speaker 1: unfurled and released their essence into the water. Steam rose
Speaker 1: in delicate wisps, carrying the camomiles sent even further into
Speaker 1: the room. The clear water slowly transformed, deepening into a pale,
Speaker 1: golden hue, the color of a gentle sunrise. Setting the
Speaker 1: kettle aside, Amelia carried her mug to the window seat,
Speaker 1: a cozy nook bathed in the soft morning light that
Speaker 1: was now beginning to brighten the room. The light, diffused
Speaker 1: by the sheer curtains, was gentle and warm, casting a
Speaker 1: soft glow on the wooden floor and the cushions of
Speaker 1: the window seat. She settled into the cushions, sinking into
Speaker 1: their softness, feeling the gentle support beneath her. Holding the
Speaker 1: mug in both hands, she closed her eyes for a
Speaker 1: moment inhaling deeply the soothing aroama of the camomeal tea.
Speaker 1: The warmth of the mug radiated outwards, warming her hands
Speaker 1: and seeping into her senses. She could feel the gentle
Speaker 1: steam caressing her face, a soft, comforting sensation. Opening her eyes,
Speaker 1: she looked out the window. The sky was now a
Speaker 1: pale blue, tinged with the soft pinks and oranges of
Speaker 1: the rising sun. The courtyard garden below was bathed in
Speaker 1: a gentle morning light, the dew drops on the leaves
Speaker 1: sparkling like tiny diamonds. The air felt fresh and clean,
Speaker 1: carrying the subtle scents of damp earth and awakening plants.
Speaker 1: She brought the mug to her lips and took a slow,
Speaker 1: deliberate sip of the tea. The warmth of the liquid
Speaker 1: flowed down her throat, a soothing sensation that spread through
Speaker 1: her chest and stomach. The taste of Camomial was mild
Speaker 1: and slightly sweet, with a hint of floral earthiness, a
Speaker 1: delicate and comforting flavor. As she sipped her tea, Amelia
Speaker 1: let her gaze wander over the courtyard garden. She noticed
Speaker 1: a small robin perched on a branch, its bright red
Speaker 1: breast a vibrant splash of color against the green foliage.
Speaker 1: The robin tilted its head, listening intently, and then suddenly
Speaker 1: burst into song, a cheerful melody that filled the quiet
Speaker 1: morning air. The combination of the warm tea in her hands,
Speaker 1: the gentle morning light on her face, the soothing scent
Speaker 1: of camermiale, and the cheerful bird song created a moment
Speaker 1: of perfect tranquility. Amelia closed her eyes again, simply savoring
Speaker 1: the sensations, allowing the quiet peace of the morning to
Speaker 1: settle deeply within her. A gentle and restorative beginning to
Speaker 1: her day. Chapter three. Watering the balcony garden, finishing her
Speaker 1: mug of tea, Amelia felt a gentle sense of contentment
Speaker 1: and calm settle over her. The camomile had worked its
Speaker 1: quiet magic, easing away any lingering tension and leaving her
Speaker 1: feeling centered and peaceful. She placed the empty mug on
Speaker 1: the small side table beside the window seat, the soft
Speaker 1: clink of ceramic on wood barely disturbing the morning quiet.
Speaker 1: Moving with a slow, deliberate pace, she walked towards the
Speaker 1: balcony door, drawn by the gentle promise of the small
Speaker 1: garden outside. The morning air felt slightly cooler now, but
Speaker 1: still refreshingly mild, She slid open the glass door, the
Speaker 1: smooth glide of the door on its track a quiet,
Speaker 1: almost imperceptible sound. Stepping on to the balcony, she was
Speaker 1: immediately enveloped by the fresh green scent of her small
Speaker 1: urban garden. The air was alive with the subtle fragrances
Speaker 1: of damp earth, blooming herbs, and the delicate sweetness of
Speaker 1: flowering vines. The balcony, though small, felt like a miniature
Speaker 1: oasis of green in the heart of the city. She
Speaker 1: picked up her watering can, a simple galvanized metal can
Speaker 1: that had developed a charming patina over time. It was
Speaker 1: light and easy to handle, filled with water she had
Speaker 1: prepared the night before, allowing it to sit at room temperature,
Speaker 1: a small detail she knew her plants appreciated. The cool
Speaker 1: metal of the can felt smooth and slightly damp in
Speaker 1: her hand. Moving slowly among her plants, Amelia began to
Speaker 1: water them. The sound of water trickling from the spout
Speaker 1: of the watering can on to the soil was gentle
Speaker 1: and rhythmic, a soft, soothing sound that mingled with the
Speaker 1: quiet murmur of the city in the distance. She carefully
Speaker 1: directed the water to the base of each plant, ensuring
Speaker 1: the soil was evenly moistened. Taking her time with each one,
Speaker 1: she noticed the tiny beads of dew still clinging to
Speaker 1: some of the leaves, catching the soft morning light and
Speaker 1: sparkling like miniature jewels. The leaves themselves were vibrant shades
Speaker 1: of green, from the deep emerald of the ferns to
Speaker 1: the lighter, softer green of the herbs. She gently touched
Speaker 1: a leaf of rosemary, its needle like texture slightly prickly
Speaker 1: against her finger tip, releasing its sharp, invigorating scent. As
Speaker 1: she watered, she observed the small details of her garden.
Speaker 1: A new bud was just beginning to unfurl on her
Speaker 1: jasmine vine, promising fragrant blossoms in the days to come.
Speaker 1: A ladybug, with its bright red shell dotted with black spots,
Speaker 1: crawled slowly along a leaf, a tiny splash of vibrant
Speaker 1: color against the green. The act of watering was meditative,
Speaker 1: a quiet, repetitive motion that allowed her mind to settle
Speaker 1: and focus on the present moment. She felt a sense
Speaker 1: of connection to these living things, a quiet appreciation for
Speaker 1: their simple beauty and resilience. The cool water flowing from
Speaker 1: the can, the earthy scent of damp soil, the vibrant
Speaker 1: green of the leaves. All these sensory details combine to
Speaker 1: create a moment of peaceful immersion in the natural world,
Speaker 1: even in the midst of the urban landscape. She continued watering,
Speaker 1: moving slowly and mindfully, until each plant had received its
Speaker 1: gentle drink, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction in this
Speaker 1: simple act of care. Chapter four, a quiet page before
Speaker 1: the day unfolds. Having finished tending to her balcony garden,
Speaker 1: Amelia returned inside, bringing with her the lingering scent of
Speaker 1: fresh earth and green leaves. The morning light was now brighter,
Speaker 1: filling the room with a warm, gentle glow. She felt
Speaker 1: a sense of quiet accomplishment, having completed the first part
Speaker 1: of her morning routine. Setting a peaceful and grounded tone
Speaker 1: for the day ahead. She moved towards her armchair, a comfortable,
Speaker 1: overstuffed chair position near a small bookcase filled with her
Speaker 1: favorite books. The armchair was upholstered in a soft linen fabric,
Speaker 1: its texture inviting and comforting. She settled into the chair,
Speaker 1: sinking into its plush cushions, feeling the gentle support envelop
Speaker 1: her body. From the bookcase, she selected a volume of poetry,
Speaker 1: a collection of works by her favored poet, whose words
Speaker 1: always seemed to resonate with her soul. The book felt
Speaker 1: familiar in her hands, its worn cover and slightly yellowed pages,
Speaker 1: carrying the weight of many readings and quiet moments spent
Speaker 1: in its company. The paper had a soft, slightly papery
Speaker 1: texture and a faint, comforting scent of old books. Opening
Speaker 1: the book at random, she began to read, her eyes
Speaker 1: scanning the lines of verse slowly and deliberately. The words
Speaker 1: flowed smoothly, their rhythm and cadence creating a gentle melodic quality.
Speaker 1: She read each line carefully, allowing the meaning and imagery
Speaker 1: to sink in, savoring the beauty of the language and
Speaker 1: the emotions it evoked. The room was quiet, except for
Speaker 1: the soft rush of pages as she turned them, a gentle,
Speaker 1: almost whisper like sound. The light from the window fell
Speaker 1: softly on the pages of the book, illuminating the printed
Speaker 1: words and casting a warm glow on the paper. She
Speaker 1: ran her fingertips lightly over the page, feeling the subtle
Speaker 1: texture of the paper and the faint impression of the ink.
Speaker 1: As she read, her mind began to quiet down further,
Speaker 1: any lingering thoughts or worries from the previous day, slowly
Speaker 1: fading into the background. The poetry drew her in, transporting
Speaker 1: her to another world, a world of emotions and imagery,
Speaker 1: of quiet contemplation and gentle reflection. The rhythm of the
Speaker 1: words and the peaceful atmosphere combined to create a sense
Speaker 1: of inner stillness and calm. She read several poems, each
Speaker 1: one a small moment of beauty and insight, a quiet
Speaker 1: pause in the unfolding of the day. She didn't rush,
Speaker 1: allowing herself to linger over lines that resonated with her,
Speaker 1: rereading passages that caught her attention. The act of reading
Speaker 1: was not just about absorbing information, but about immersing herself
Speaker 1: in the beauty of language and finding solace in the
Speaker 1: quiet rhythm of the words. In the gentle quiet of
Speaker 1: her mourning. With a book of poetry in her hands,
Speaker 1: Amelia found a moment of peaceful respite before the demands
Speaker 1: of her work day began to unfold, a moment of
Speaker 1: quiet nourishment for her soul. Chapter five, Sunlight on the
Speaker 1: tea cup, Ready for the day, closing the poetry book, gently,
Speaker 1: Amelia placed it on the small table beside her arm chair,
Speaker 1: the soft thud of the book on the wood a quiet,
Speaker 1: grounding sound. She stretched languidly, feeling a gentle release of
Speaker 1: any remaining tension in her muscles, a pleasant sensation of
Speaker 1: her body feeling relaxed and at ease. She had been
Speaker 1: sitting quietly for some time, and her body felt both
Speaker 1: rested and refreshed. She looked towards the window, noticing how
Speaker 1: the morning light had shifted again. The sun was now
Speaker 1: higher in the sky, casting a brighter, warmer light into
Speaker 1: the room. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the empty
Speaker 1: tea cup she had left on the side table earlier.
Speaker 1: The sunlight caught the delicate patterns on the ceramic, highlighting
Speaker 1: the soft blues and greens of the floral design. The teacup,
Speaker 1: now empty and cool to the touch, still held a faint,
Speaker 1: lingering scent of camo meal, a subtle reminder of the
Speaker 1: soothing tea she had enjoyed. She picked up the teacup,
Speaker 1: its lightness in her hand a contrast to the warmth
Speaker 1: and weight it had held earlier. She turned it slowly
Speaker 1: in her fingers, observing the smooth, glazed surface and the
Speaker 1: delicate curve of its handle. Rising from her armchair, Amelia
Speaker 1: carried the tea cup towards the kitchen, moving with a slow,
Speaker 1: unhurried pace. The floorboards creaked softly beneath her feet, a
Speaker 1: familiar and comforting sound within the quiet apartment. In the kitchen,
Speaker 1: she rinsed the teacup under the tap, the cool water
Speaker 1: flowing over the ceramic surface, washing away any remaining traces
Speaker 1: of tea. She placed the clean teacup in the drying rack,
Speaker 1: the soft clink of ceramic on metal a gentle, unobtrusive sound.
Speaker 1: Looking around the kitchen, she felt a sense of order
Speaker 1: and calm in the tidy space. The morning light filled
Speaker 1: the room, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Walking back
Speaker 1: to the window, she looked out at the courtyard garden
Speaker 1: once more. The plants were now bathed in full sunlight,
Speaker 1: their leaves glistening brightly, their colors even more vibrant in
Speaker 1: the strong light. The robin she had seen earlier was
Speaker 1: still there, hopping amongst the branches, its cheerful song filling
Speaker 1: the air. Taking a deep breath, Amelia felt a sense
Speaker 1: of quiet readiness, for the day ahead the peace and
Speaker 1: stillness of her morning routine and had prepared her, grounding
Speaker 1: her and centering her mind. She carried with her the
Speaker 1: gentle calm of the camomeal tea, the fresh scent of
Speaker 1: the garden, the quiet beauty of the poetry, and the
Speaker 1: soft warmth of the morning light. She turned away from
Speaker 1: the window, a small smile playing on her lips. The
Speaker 1: day was unfolding, and she was ready to meet it
Speaker 1: with a sense of gentle focus and peaceful intention, carrying
Speaker 1: the stillness of her morning routine with her into whatever
Speaker 1: the day might bring. The sunlight, now warming her face,
Speaker 1: felt like a gentle blessing, a quiet promise of a
Speaker 1: day filled with simple moments and quiet joys, all beginning
Speaker 1: with the gentle stillness she had cultivated in her morning routine.
Speaker 2: Fish us.
Speaker 3: L sixteen and the emolum M M M.
Speaker 4: Screaming as modernist to
Speaker 3: Be