Speaker 1: Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone, in which nothing much happens,
Speaker 1: you feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nikolay.
Speaker 1: I write and read everything you hear on Nothing Much
Speaker 1: Happens with audio engineering by Bob Witttersheim. Before we step
Speaker 1: into the village to night, I'm excited to tell you
Speaker 1: about something that I've been working on for quite some time,
Speaker 1: something created just for you to bring a piece of
Speaker 1: the village into your homes and guide you into a
Speaker 1: healthy wind down routine that will feel so good. This month,
Speaker 1: we are releasing the Nothing Much Happens wind Down Box,
Speaker 1: a wellness box of hand selected products that I personally
Speaker 1: use and love, along with a few exclusive stories to
Speaker 1: round out your cozy routine. Each box features products specially
Speaker 1: selected for your relaxation from Everescio Wellness Chill Now a
Speaker 1: high potency organic certified Raschi mushroom extract to nutri Champs
Speaker 1: tart cherry gummies great for sleep and reducing inflammation and
Speaker 1: they daste great. There's a lavender candle to mark your
Speaker 1: moment of calm from our favorite small batch candle makers,
Speaker 1: Vella Box. A meditative activity by way of a Brighter
Speaker 1: Years mini coloring book. It's a fantastic way to disconnect
Speaker 1: from your screen and tap into your creative self before bad.
Speaker 1: There are more mushrooms, this time in chocolate specially formulated
Speaker 1: for good sleep from the lovely team behind Alice Mushrooms,
Speaker 1: delicious essential oils that were made to be rubbed on
Speaker 1: your wrists and neck from my friends at Woolsey's, and
Speaker 1: of course a melatonin for those who need an extra
Speaker 1: helping hand to rest by way of new strips. Place
Speaker 1: it on your tongue and it dissolves in seconds. Like
Speaker 1: everything in this village, we took our time to create
Speaker 1: this for you. That is such a pleasure to be
Speaker 1: able to help so many of you with what I do,
Speaker 1: and I'm excited to create comfort in new ways with
Speaker 1: our first ever wind down box. Head over to Nothing
Speaker 1: Much Happens dot Com for more information. Now I have
Speaker 1: a story for you. By giving your mind something to
Speaker 1: follow along with, you help to direct yourself towards sleep
Speaker 1: and away from the loop of worries and unfinished business
Speaker 1: that can keep us up at night. I'll tell the
Speaker 1: story twice, and I'll go a little slower the second
Speaker 1: time through. If you find that you are still awake
Speaker 1: at the end of the second telling. Don't worry. That
Speaker 1: is sometimes how it goes. Just start back at the
Speaker 1: beginning of the story and walk yourself through the details
Speaker 1: that you can remember. This is a kind of brain training,
Speaker 1: and every time you do it, it will become a
Speaker 1: bit easier, and falling quickly into RESTful sleep will be
Speaker 1: your natural response. Our story tonight is called Three Good Things,
Speaker 1: and it's a story about reminding yourself of some of
Speaker 1: the simple, happy moments that happen during the day. Sometimes
Speaker 1: good stuff slips through our brains without leaving much of
Speaker 1: a trace, while scary, upsetting stuff gets stuck in there.
Speaker 1: So it helps to notice and highlight sweetness when it
Speaker 1: shows up, even if that just amounts to us saying
Speaker 1: to ourselves, oh, that's nice. Now it's time to turn
Speaker 1: out the light, set down your work, put away your screens,
Speaker 1: slip down deep into your covers, and get as comfortable
Speaker 1: as you can. Make all the adjustments you need to
Speaker 1: till you find the right position, and then take a slow,
Speaker 1: deep breath in through the nose and sigh from the mouth.
Speaker 1: Nice one more, please breathe in and out good. Three
Speaker 1: good things all the way. At the top of my house,
Speaker 1: there's a room just for me. It's an office, certainly
Speaker 1: I get work done there, but it's also a place
Speaker 1: where I read, where I listen to music, or just
Speaker 1: am alone. It's a few steps up and around a
Speaker 1: corner from the floor below, a big open room with
Speaker 1: windows facing the trees, and wood floors with a few
Speaker 1: worn rugs spread out on them. I have a desk
Speaker 1: and a bookshelf, a small sofa and a lamp, a
Speaker 1: little table for doing puzzles or painting, and lots of
Speaker 1: candles in the corner, and a soft rug. There is
Speaker 1: a cushion for meditation. Today the house was already quiet,
Speaker 1: a few windows open. On a late spring afternoon. I
Speaker 1: had made myself a cup of something warm to drink
Speaker 1: and climbed the stairs up to my room. The trees
Speaker 1: were budding, and I stood at a window and looked
Speaker 1: out for a while. I sipped my drink and watched
Speaker 1: a squirrel sitting in the crook of a branch, her
Speaker 1: tail flicking every now and then. And I set my
Speaker 1: drink down and checked a few of my potted plants
Speaker 1: that I had sitting on shelves, and window sills, gave
Speaker 1: the thirsty ones a drink, and set to lighting the candles.
Speaker 1: It took a few minutes. It was a sort of ritual.
Speaker 1: I liked the feeling of marking a moment and lighting
Speaker 1: a candle, or turning on music, or even just taking
Speaker 1: a big breath. Felt like that. I hummed a bit,
Speaker 1: struck a match, and went from candle to candle until
Speaker 1: the room had a soft glow and felt cozy and friendly.
Speaker 1: I set my cup next to my meditation cushion, sat
Speaker 1: down and fidgeted around until I figured out where my
Speaker 1: feet and hips needed to settle in order for me
Speaker 1: to be upright and relaxed. I had an old light
Speaker 1: blanket that I pulled around my shoulders and a bit
Speaker 1: of it over my head. I wasn't cold, but it
Speaker 1: made me feel safe and focused. I took a few
Speaker 1: slow breaths and thought back over the past twenty four hours.
Speaker 1: I was looking for three good things, three sweet moments
Speaker 1: to relive in my head. I found that when I
Speaker 1: did this, I reset my brain a bit and seemed
Speaker 1: to notice more sweetness in general everywhere I looked. For
Speaker 1: a day or so afterward, in the quiet of my mind,
Speaker 1: a memory rose up in bed. The night before, my
Speaker 1: partner had rolled over in between dreams and bumped a
Speaker 1: hand along my arm without waking. My sweetheart had squeezed
Speaker 1: my wrist and held on. I felt a bloom of
Speaker 1: contentment in my body and listened as slow breathing became
Speaker 1: a quiet snore. I had smiled to myself in the
Speaker 1: darkness and gone immediately back to sleep. I smiled to
Speaker 1: myself now wrapped in my blanket, and remembered how good
Speaker 1: it felt to be touched by the person you love.
Speaker 1: I breathed and sat still, looking again for a good moment.
Speaker 1: That morning, stepping out into the fresh spring air with
Speaker 1: my dogs, my head looked up at the sky and
Speaker 1: stood still for a minute and just looked at the
Speaker 1: lines of color as they spread and shifted above me,
Speaker 1: pinks and blues and a few streaks of bright red.
Speaker 1: I was awed and let myself feel it. The air
Speaker 1: smelled so clean that breathing deep felt like medicine. My
Speaker 1: dogs sniffed around and chased through the grass, and I
Speaker 1: had a feeling of simple joy now on my cushion.
Speaker 1: I remembered that feeling and traced it back and forth
Speaker 1: in my mind so that those connections in my brain
Speaker 1: would be well built and lasting. One more time, I
Speaker 1: dipped into my memory for something sweet and thought of
Speaker 1: a visit i'd made to a friend at lunch time.
Speaker 1: She had a new baby, just a few weeks old,
Speaker 1: and I'd brought by a bag of groceries, offered to
Speaker 1: hold her little girl while she napped and showered. My
Speaker 1: friend laid her in my arms and snuck out of
Speaker 1: the room to take care of herself for a bit.
Speaker 1: The baby was so new that sleep came easy to her,
Speaker 1: and she quickly dropped off in my arms. I leaned
Speaker 1: back into the sofa and rested her head under my chin.
Speaker 1: The weight of her little body on my chest had
Speaker 1: felt so good that it was like a drug in
Speaker 1: my system. I was suddenly calm and content. I tipped
Speaker 1: my nose down to her head and breathed in her smell.
Speaker 1: Sitting in my little room, feeling the afternoon light on
Speaker 1: my face, I remembered the weight of the baby, the
Speaker 1: colors of the sky, the touch of my love. I
Speaker 1: held it all in my mind and just sat with it.
Speaker 1: It filled in places inside me where things had been
Speaker 1: knocked out or lost. I felt all unhappy and quiet.
Speaker 1: Three good things all the way. At the top of
Speaker 1: my house, there's a room just for me. It's an office,
Speaker 1: certainly I get work done there, but it's also a
Speaker 1: place where I read, where I listen to music, or
Speaker 1: just am alone. It's a few steps up and around
Speaker 1: a corner from the floor below, a big open room
Speaker 1: with windows facing the trees and wood floors. A few
Speaker 1: worn rugs spread out on them. I have a desk
Speaker 1: and a bookshelf, a small sofa and a lamp, a
Speaker 1: little table for doing puzzles or painting, and lots of candles.
Speaker 1: In the corner on a soft rug there is a
Speaker 1: cushion for meditation. To day, the house was already quiet,
Speaker 1: a few windows open. On a late spring afternoon, I'd
Speaker 1: made myself a cup of something warm to drink and
Speaker 1: climbed the stairs up to my room. The trees were budding,
Speaker 1: and I stood at a window and looked out for
Speaker 1: a while. I sipped my drink and watched a squirrel
Speaker 1: sitting in the crook of a branch, her tail flicking
Speaker 1: every now and then. I set my drink down and
Speaker 1: checked the few potted plants I had sitting on shelves
Speaker 1: or window sills, gave the thirsty ones a drink, and
Speaker 1: set to lighting the candles. It took a few minutes.
Speaker 1: It was a sort of ritual. I liked the feeling
Speaker 1: of marking a moment and lighting a candle, or turning
Speaker 1: on music, or even just taking a big breath. Felt
Speaker 1: like that. I hummed a bit, struck a match, and
Speaker 1: went from candle to candle until the room had a
Speaker 1: soft glow and felt cozy and friendly. I set my
Speaker 1: cup next to my meditation cushion, sat down and fidgeted
Speaker 1: around until I'd figured out where my feet and hips
Speaker 1: needed to settle in order for me to be upright
Speaker 1: and relaxed. I had an old light blanket that I
Speaker 1: pulled around my shoulders a bit of it over my head.
Speaker 1: I wasn't cold, but it made me feel safe and focused.
Speaker 1: I took a few slow breaths and thought back over
Speaker 1: the past twenty four hours. I was looking for three
Speaker 1: good things, three sweet moments to relive in my head.
Speaker 1: I found that when I did this, I reset my
Speaker 1: brain a bit and seemed to notice more sweetness in
Speaker 1: general everywhere I looked. For a day or two afterward,
Speaker 1: in the quiet of my mind. A memory rose up
Speaker 1: in bed. The night before, my partner rolled over in
Speaker 1: between dreams and bumped a hand along my arm without waking.
Speaker 1: My sweetheart had squeezed my wrist and held on. I
Speaker 1: had felt a bloom of contentment through my body and listened.
Speaker 1: I slow breathing became a quiet snore. I had smiled
Speaker 1: to myself in the darkness and gone immediately back to sleep.
Speaker 1: I smiled to myself, now wrapped in my blanket, and
Speaker 1: remembered how good it felt to be touched by the
Speaker 1: person you love. I breathed, sat still, looking again for
Speaker 1: a good moment. That morning, stepping out into the fresh
Speaker 1: spring air with my dogs, I had looked up at
Speaker 1: the sky it stood still for a moment, and just
Speaker 1: looked at the lines of color as they spread and
Speaker 1: shifted above me, pinks and blues and a few streaks
Speaker 1: of bright red. I was awed and let myself feel it.
Speaker 1: The air smelled so clear that breathing deep felt like medicine.
Speaker 1: My dog sniffed around and chased through the grass. When
Speaker 1: I had a feeling of simple joy now on my cushion,
Speaker 1: I remembered that feeling and traced it back and forth
Speaker 1: in my mind, so that those connections in my brain
Speaker 1: would be well built and lasting. One more time, I
Speaker 1: dipped into my memory for something sweet and thought of
Speaker 1: a visit i'd made to a friend at lunchtime. She
Speaker 1: had a new baby, just a few weeks old, and
Speaker 1: I'd brought by a bag of groceries and offered to
Speaker 1: hold her little girl while she napped and showered. My
Speaker 1: friend laid her in my arms and snuck out of
Speaker 1: the room to take care of herself for a bit.
Speaker 1: The baby was so new that sleep came easily to her,
Speaker 1: and she quickly dropped off in my arms. I leaned
Speaker 1: back into the sofa and rested her head under my chin.
Speaker 1: The weight of her little body on my chest had
Speaker 1: felt so good that it was like a drug in
Speaker 1: my system. I was suddenly calm, content. I tipped my
Speaker 1: nose down to her head and breathed in her smell.
Speaker 1: Sitting in my little room, feeling the afternoon light on
Speaker 1: my face, I remembered the weight of the baby, the
Speaker 1: colors of the sky, the touch of my love. I
Speaker 1: held it all in my mind and just sat with it.
Speaker 1: It filled in places inside me where things had been
Speaker 1: knocked out or lost. I felt whole, unhappy and quiet.
Speaker 1: Sweet dreams,