Speaker 1: Welcome to bedtime Stories for grown ups, in which nothing
Speaker 1: much happens, you feel good, and then you fall asleep.
Speaker 1: All stories are written and read by me, Catherine Nikolay,
Speaker 1: with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. Let me say something
Speaker 1: about how to use this podcast. I'm about to tell
Speaker 1: you a bedtime story. It's a simple story, without much action,
Speaker 1: but full of relaxing detail. Sometimes when you try to
Speaker 1: fall asleep, you find that your mind races, and it's
Speaker 1: tricky to slow it down or direct it. While the
Speaker 1: story is like an inviting, well organized garage that we
Speaker 1: steer your racing mind into, and as you follow along
Speaker 1: with the simple shape of the story, your mind slows
Speaker 1: to a stop until there is nothing left to do
Speaker 1: but sleep. I'll tell our story twice, and I'll go
Speaker 1: a little slower the second time through. If you find
Speaker 1: yourself still awake at the end of the second telling,
Speaker 1: don't worry. That's sometimes how it goes. You could listen again,
Speaker 1: or just walk yourself back through the bits you can remember.
Speaker 1: You're training your brain and body to wind down, and
Speaker 1: the more often you do it, the faster you will
Speaker 1: fall asleep. So have a bit of patience at the beginning,
Speaker 1: and if you find yourself awake again later in the night,
Speaker 1: think back through the story again to go right back
Speaker 1: to sleep. Now it's time to turn off the light
Speaker 1: and to put away anything that isn't your sleep mask
Speaker 1: or your teddy bear. Take some time to adjust your
Speaker 1: body into the most comfortable position you can find. This
Speaker 1: is part of a habit making technique which cuse your
Speaker 1: body and mind to settle and rest. So go ahead,
Speaker 1: make all the adjustments you need to until you find
Speaker 1: a position that is really comfortable. Let's take a deep
Speaker 1: breath in through the nose and a soft sigh out
Speaker 1: of the mouth. Good, do that one more time in
Speaker 1: a doubt. Our story tonight is called early to Yoga,
Speaker 1: and it's a story about the comfort of a quiet,
Speaker 1: safe place. It's also about the feeling of privacy and
Speaker 1: the ease and serenity that come from someone showing you
Speaker 1: a little tenderness and affection. In the interest of full disclosure,
Speaker 1: I should say that I am a yoga teacher and
Speaker 1: own a studio in Michigan. You may not know, if
Speaker 1: you have never been a teacher, how much warmth and
Speaker 1: good will your teacher has for you, But I can
Speaker 1: tell you it's a lot. I was early to yoga,
Speaker 1: which seemed like a miracle because all day I've been
Speaker 1: behind and racing to catch up. Up from the moment
Speaker 1: I woke up that day, I was already tired and
Speaker 1: a little low, and I'd spent the day fumbling through
Speaker 1: work and chores. I kept forgetting things, dropping things, and
Speaker 1: I was getting a bit nasty with myself in my
Speaker 1: own head. I needed rest, and the idea of getting
Speaker 1: to yoga and laying my mat in that quiet, dark
Speaker 1: space was all that was keeping me going. And now
Speaker 1: I was wonderfully early, nearly thirty minutes till class time,
Speaker 1: but I knew the room would be open and ready.
Speaker 1: I found a parking spot a block or so from
Speaker 1: the studio and just sat in the car for a moment.
Speaker 1: I slid a journal out of my glove box and
Speaker 1: rooted around till I found a pen. It was a
Speaker 1: habit of mine to write down whatever was most pressing
Speaker 1: on my mind before I went in for my yoga practice.
Speaker 1: This seemed to help me to gain a bit of
Speaker 1: space for my thoughts. Because they existed in the journal
Speaker 1: out in the physical world, they didn't have to exist
Speaker 1: in my head. My thoughts could sometimes behave like a
Speaker 1: little kid pulling at my sleeve and demanding my attention.
Speaker 1: And when I put them down on paper, I got
Speaker 1: a break from that. I put the journal away, gathered
Speaker 1: up my mat and keys, and started walking along the
Speaker 1: down town streets to the studio. I looked in the
Speaker 1: windows as I went, letting the sights and sounds of
Speaker 1: the early evening catch my attention. There was an orange
Speaker 1: dress in the window of a clothing store. There were
Speaker 1: people eating sandwiches and drinking mugs of coffee in the diner.
Speaker 1: There were kids playing a game, running along the sidewalks
Speaker 1: and calling out to each other while their unzipped coats
Speaker 1: flapped around them. In the cool evening air, I could
Speaker 1: smell wet pavement from the rain we'd had that day,
Speaker 1: and that fresh black dirt smell that only happens in
Speaker 1: the spring. I could see lights on inside the studio
Speaker 1: and my teacher at the front desk lighting a candle.
Speaker 1: I already felt better. I opened the door and slipped in.
Speaker 1: I quietly took my shoes off and went to the
Speaker 1: desk to sign in. My teacher asked, how are you.
Speaker 1: I took a breath in and blew it out and said,
Speaker 1: a bit better now. She held my gaze a moment.
Speaker 1: I see. She said, it's so good that you came tonight.
Speaker 1: Why don't you go put your legs up the wall.
Speaker 1: I nodded, appreciating that I didn't have to explain anything.
Speaker 1: The yoga room was dark, really dark, with some candles
Speaker 1: lit and the lights dimmed as low as they would go.
Speaker 1: The air was warm and humid. It felt easy to
Speaker 1: breathe and took the chill from my skin. The room
Speaker 1: had an orange glow from the lights reflecting on the
Speaker 1: wood floors that reminded me of sitting in front of
Speaker 1: a fire. And although I was early, there were already
Speaker 1: a handful of other students laying or sitting on their mats,
Speaker 1: and the quiet it reminded me that I wasn't the
Speaker 1: only one having a bit of a day. No one
Speaker 1: talks in this room and no one brings their phone in,
Speaker 1: so it's very quiet, and for the first time to day,
Speaker 1: I felt really safe and like I was no longer
Speaker 1: under the microscope. Privacy is healing. I unrolled my mat
Speaker 1: in the back corner of the room and did as
Speaker 1: my teacher suggested, sliding up close to the wall, laying
Speaker 1: my back down on the floor and swinging my legs
Speaker 1: up the wall. I immediately sighed. The shape always calms me.
Speaker 1: I know it has to do with getting my legs
Speaker 1: up above my heart and the lymphatic fluid blah blah blah,
Speaker 1: but mostly it just feels nice. Minutes passed. I kept
Speaker 1: my eyes closed. There was quiet piano music playing. I
Speaker 1: heard footsteps, and then the quiet voice of my teacher
Speaker 1: near my ear. Lay all the way on to your mat.
Speaker 1: I have something that will help. I did as she said,
Speaker 1: and a moment later felt her lay a heavy blanket
Speaker 1: on top of me. I could feel little pockets of
Speaker 1: weights sewn into the fabric, and the pressure of it
Speaker 1: spread out over me and seemed to press out anxiety contention.
Speaker 1: It was like there had been a carlar going off
Speaker 1: inside me all day, and I'd become so used to
Speaker 1: the sound that I only noticed when it suddenly stopped.
Speaker 1: What is this relief? She said. She smoothed my hair
Speaker 1: and rested her hands on my shoulder. For a moment,
Speaker 1: I might fall asleep, I said, quietly, good, I'll wake
Speaker 1: you up. Eventually, I could hear her footsteps retreating, and
Speaker 1: then I just felt the pressure of the blanket and
Speaker 1: the warmth and the quiet of the room. I was
Speaker 1: early to yoga, which seemed like a miracle, because all
Speaker 1: day I'd been behind and racing to catch up. From
Speaker 1: the moment I woke up that day, I was already
Speaker 1: tired and a little low, and I had spent the
Speaker 1: day fumbling through work and chores. I kept forgetting things,
Speaker 1: dropping things, and I was getting a bit nasty with
Speaker 1: myself in my own head. I needed rest, and the
Speaker 1: idea of getting to yoga and laying my mat in
Speaker 1: that quiet, dark space was all that was keeping me going.
Speaker 1: And now I was wonderfully early, nearly thirty minutes till
Speaker 1: class time, but I knew the room would be open
Speaker 1: and ready. I found a parking spot a block or
Speaker 1: so from the studio and just sat in the car
Speaker 1: for a moment. I slid a journal out of my
Speaker 1: glove box and rooted around till I found a pen.
Speaker 1: It was a habit of mine to write down whatever
Speaker 1: was most pressing on my mind before I went in
Speaker 1: for my yoga practice. This seemed to help me to
Speaker 1: gain a bit of space from my thoughts because they
Speaker 1: existed in the journal. Out in the physical world, they
Speaker 1: didn't have to exist in my head. My thoughts could
Speaker 1: sometimes behave like a little kid pulling at my sleeve
Speaker 1: and demanding my attention, And when I put them down
Speaker 1: on paper, I got a break from that. I put
Speaker 1: the journal away, gathered up my mat and keys, and
Speaker 1: started walking along the down town streets to the studio.
Speaker 1: I looked in the windows as I went, letting the
Speaker 1: sights and sounds of the early evening catch my attention.
Speaker 1: There was an orange dress in the window of a
Speaker 1: clothing store. There were people eating sandwiches and drinking munks
Speaker 1: of coffee in the diner. There were kids playing a game,
Speaker 1: running along the sidewalks, calling out to each other while
Speaker 1: their unzipped coats flapped around them. In the cool evening air,
Speaker 1: I could smell wet pavement from the rain we'd had
Speaker 1: that day, and that fresh black dirt smell that only
Speaker 1: happens in the spring. I could see lights on inside
Speaker 1: the studio and my teacher at the front desk lighting
Speaker 1: a candle. I already felt better. I opened the door
Speaker 1: and slipped in quietly, took my shoes off, and went
Speaker 1: to the desk to sign in. My teacher asked, how
Speaker 1: are you. I took a breath in, blew it out,
Speaker 1: and said a bit better now. She held my gaze
Speaker 1: a moment I see. She said, it's so good that
Speaker 1: you came to night. Go put your legs up the wall.
Speaker 1: I nodded, appreciating that I didn't have to explain anything.
Speaker 1: The yoga room was dark, really dark, with some candles
Speaker 1: lit and the lights dimmed as low as they would go.
Speaker 1: The air was warm and humid, and it felt easy
Speaker 1: to breathe and took the chill from my skin. The
Speaker 1: room had an orange glow from the lights reflecting on
Speaker 1: the wood floors that reminded me of sitting in front
Speaker 1: of a fire. And although I was early, there were
Speaker 1: already a handful of other students laying or sitting on
Speaker 1: their mats in the quiet. It reminded me that I
Speaker 1: wasn't the only one having a bit of a day.
Speaker 1: No one talks in this room and no one brings
Speaker 1: their phone in, so it's very quiet, and for the
Speaker 1: first time today I felt really safe and like I
Speaker 1: was no longer under the microscope. Privacy is healing. I
Speaker 1: unrolled my mat in the back corner of the room
Speaker 1: and did as my teacher suggested, sliding up close to
Speaker 1: the wall, laying my back down on the floor and
Speaker 1: swinging my legs up the wall. I immediately sighed. The
Speaker 1: shape always calms me. I know it has to do
Speaker 1: with getting my legs up above my heart and the
Speaker 1: lumphatic fluid blah blah blah, but mostly it just feels nice.
Speaker 1: Minutes pass, I kept my eyes closed. There was quiet
Speaker 1: piano music playing. I heard footsteps, and then the quiet
Speaker 1: voice of my teacher near my ear. Lay all the
Speaker 1: way onto your mat. I have something that will help.
Speaker 1: I did as she said, and a moment later felt
Speaker 1: her lay a heavy blanket on top of me. I
Speaker 1: could feel little pockets of weights sewn into the fabric,
Speaker 1: and the pressure of it spread out over me and
Speaker 1: seemed to press out anxiety and tension. It was like
Speaker 1: there had been a car alarm going off inside me
Speaker 1: all day, and I had become so used to the
Speaker 1: sound that I only notice when it suddenly stopped. What
Speaker 1: is this relief, she said. She smoothed my hair and
Speaker 1: rested her hands on my shoulders. For a moment, I
Speaker 1: might fall asleep, I said, quietly, good, i'll wake you up.
Speaker 1: Eventually I could hear her footsteps retreating, and then I
Speaker 1: just felt the pressure of the blanket and the warmth
Speaker 1: and the quiet of the room. Sweet dreams.