Speaker 1: In the garden there are places to sit. There is
Speaker 1: a stone bench half covered in moss. There is a
Speaker 1: wooden chair beneath an arbor. There is a low wall
Speaker 1: at the garden's edge where you could sit and look
Speaker 1: out over the rest of the garden. You do not
Speaker 1: need to sit, but the garden offers these places. The
Speaker 1: garden is generous with its rest. The light in the
Speaker 1: garden does not change. The light is always the same.
Speaker 1: You feel held by the garden. You feel held by
Speaker 1: the moment. In the garden. Nothing is asked of you,
Speaker 1: nothing is needed from you, nothing is waiting for you.
Speaker 1: You can stay here as long as you like. The
Speaker 1: garden does not track the time. The garden does not
Speaker 1: keep count. The garden simply holds you, the way the
Speaker 1: tree holds the birds that nest in its branches. The
Speaker 1: dream softens at the edges. There are only the books.
Speaker 1: There are only the shelves. There are only the soft
Speaker 1: green lamps, and the worn leather chairs, and the thick carpet,
Speaker 1: and the centuries of stories held in the wood, and
Speaker 1: the paper. You close your eyes, the library is still there.
Speaker 1: You can feel it around you, the shelves, the books,
Speaker 1: the soft hum of all the world it's ever written,
Speaker 1: Held quietly in this one place, the library softens. The
Speaker 1: body is doing its work. The body knows how to rest.
Speaker 1: The body is resting right now. You are resting right now,
Speaker 1: not in a rush. You step through the way you
Speaker 1: have been stepping through everything to night, slowly, gently, one
Speaker 1: breath at a time. The door closes behind you. The
Speaker 1: door makes no sound. The door does not lock. You
Speaker 1: can return whenever you need to. The door will be there.
Speaker 1: The door is always there on the other side of
Speaker 1: the door. The world is soft, The world is far away.
Speaker 1: Feel it steady, feel it sure. You do not need
Speaker 1: to do anything about your heart. Your heart knows what
Speaker 1: to do. Your heart has been beating since before you
Speaker 1: were born. It will beat long after this moment has passed.
Speaker 1: Trust it, Trust it to keep going while you rest.
Speaker 1: Let your attention sink to your belly. Let your belly soften,
Speaker 1: Let it rise with thee in breath, Let it fall
Speaker 1: with the out breath. Your head does not need to
Speaker 1: do anything tonight except rest. Let your attention come to
Speaker 1: your neck, to the muscles along the sides of your throat,
Speaker 1: to the small muscles at the base of your skull.
Speaker 1: Feel them length, then feel them soften. They have been
Speaker 1: holding your head up all day. Tonight they are allowed
Speaker 1: to rest. Let your shoulders drop, Let them drop toward
Speaker 1: the bed, Let them settle. The lamp has a soft
Speaker 1: fabric shade. The lamp is the kind of lamp that
Speaker 1: gives the kind of light you would want if you
Speaker 1: were reading a book late at night. But tonight, the
Speaker 1: lamp is off tonight. The only light in the room
Speaker 1: is the light from the window. The light from the
Speaker 1: window is the light of the moon. The room is quiet.
Speaker 1: The room is patient. The room is waiting for you
Speaker 1: to settle in. You do not need to open the
Speaker 1: closed ones. You do not need to enter the open ones.
Speaker 1: You only need to walk the hallway. You only need
Speaker 1: to feel the wood under your feet, feel the light
Speaker 1: on your face, feel the quiet of the house. You walk.
Speaker 1: Your footsteps echo softly. The echo is gentle. Let the
Speaker 1: breath leave the way a leaf leaves a branch, not pushed,
Speaker 1: not pulled, just released. Breathe in count to four, one
Speaker 1: two three four. Breathe out count to six one two, three, four,
Speaker 1: five six. The outbreath is longer than the inbreath. The
Speaker 1: outbreath is the one that calms. The outbreath is the
Speaker 1: one that tells the body it is safe. The outbreath
Speaker 1: is the one that invites sleep. You are loved by
Speaker 1: this moment. You are enough, You have always been enough,
Speaker 1: You will always be enough. Let these truths settle. Let
Speaker 1: them sink into your chest, Let them sink into your belly,
Speaker 1: Let them sink into your bones. Let them be there
Speaker 1: when you wake, Let them be there in the morning.
Speaker 1: The illustration is beautiful. You look at it for a
Speaker 1: long time. You do not read the words. You do
Speaker 1: not need to. You put the book back, You walk on.
Speaker 1: There are reading desks in the library, long wooden desks
Speaker 1: with green shaded lamps. There are soft chairs beside some
Speaker 1: of the desks. The chairs are leather. The chairs are
Speaker 1: worn soft by years of readers sitting in them. The
Speaker 1: world will still be there in the morning, but it
Speaker 1: does not need you tonight. On the other side of
Speaker 1: the door, the body rests. The body is heavy. The
Speaker 1: body is warm. The body is held by the bed.
Speaker 1: The body is held by the blankets. The body is
Speaker 1: held by the night. On the other side of the door,
Speaker 1: the breath slows. The breath becomes almost nothing. The breath
Speaker 1: becomes the smallest rise and fall. You are exactly where
Speaker 1: you are supposed to be, in this bed, in this breath,
Speaker 1: in this moment, you are allowed to rest. Rest is
Speaker 1: not laziness. Rest is not weakness. Rest is the foundation
Speaker 1: of everything else. Without rest, nothing works. With rest, everything
Speaker 1: becomes possible. You are worthy of this sleep.