The Perfect Day Off | Bedtime Story For Better Sleep

Hey, Jeffery here, and welcome back to Nye Falls. Before we begin, I want to give a huge shout out to all the new subscribers we welcome during our January promotion. Thanks so much for your support. It means the world and keeps the show going. This one's for you. I love to break the monotony of the everyday, whether that means picking somewhere unusual to walk out or booking a little trip away. It feels so good to get a new perspective and sometimes helps to appreciate the comforts of home a little more. In tonight's story, we look at life through the eyes of a woman as she chooses to spend a relaxing day away from her normal life. Here, she takes in all the slow delights, smells and sights on offer in her hometown. As time goes by, she enjoys some simple pleasures on a day where everything seems to go just right. Before we begin, here's the quick ad break that keeps this free content possible. To go ad free, subscribe via the link in the show notes. For a lot of us, making time to take care of our mental health isn't always straightforward. For me, therapy has been part of that. And one thing I've learned is that even after you decide to ask for help, finding care that's affordable and fit into your life can still be difficult. You can sometimes feel like choosing between getting the right support and being able to afford it, which shouldn't be how mental health care works. That's one of the reasons RULA exists. RULA is a health care company that helps you find in network therapy that fits your budget and works with your insurance. Without the endless searching or confusing fine print, they work with over a hundred insurance plans, which means many people pay around $15 a session and depending on your coverage, it could even be zero. And instead of sitting on a wait list for months, you can often find a licensed therapist accepting new clients as soon as tomorrow. What I also appreciate is that RULA doesn't just match you and disappear, they stay involved, checking in along the way to make sure your care continues to work for you. Thousands of people are already using RULA to get affordable, high quality therapy that's actually covered by insurance. Visit RULA.com forward slash night falls to get started. Here you sign up, you'll be asked how you heard about them. Please support our show and let them know we sent you. That's RULA.com slash night falls. You deserve mental health care that works with you, not against your budget. Just a quick note before the night settles in. Sleep Awareness Week is almost over, and so is our 30-day free trial of the Sleepiest Network bundle. If you've been thinking about exploring the full world of night falls and everything we create across the network, this is your final opportunity to try out free for a full month. With the bundle, you'll unlock the entire catalogue of night falls, sleepwave and sleep magic, completely ad-free, giving you stories to escape into, meditations to steady you and hypnosis to help you switch off. 30 days gives you space to try something different and find your own rhythm at night. This extended trial ends on March 16th and it won't be available again for some time, so if this feels like the right moment to take your night seriously, tap Try Free and Apple Podcasts or use the link in the show notes before the weekend. There's no better week to choose rest. I'll be here when you're ready. Alright, now back to night falls. On bright summer's day, I walked down the street to take the train to work. I chose my normal route and I soon reached the center of the town and the train station. It was busy with commuters and I arrived, as usual, with a few minutes to spare to get a good seat. Slowly the train pulled in and the door is open so I could go aboard. But then my phone began to ring. It was my business partner, Alady, and I answered, It's such a nice day, she said. I was thinking about giving everyone the day off, what do you think? I thought of the emails in my to-do list, but she was right. The temperature was perfect. There was a soft warmth to the air, but it wasn't too hot. A light breeze rose and fell around me. Sounds like a great idea, I said, and straight away felt very relaxed. One lovely thing, an unexpected day off. The train doors closed with a jutter. I watched as it moved steadily along the tracks and the carriages became a single spot on the horizon. Thoughts of work drifted further and further out into the distance as if they were being carried away on the train and eventually I could no longer retrieve them. I stood on the platform and then I walked out of the station into the sunshine. I was excited about the day ahead to explore my hometown. I often went out for lunch or to meet friends, but I couldn't remember a time when I just wondered and enjoyed the surroundings for what they were. I had no plan, and that felt like the perfect way to enjoy the time and take in whatever I saw. The main road in the small town was not busy. Still, people were starting to emerge and there was a sleepy but slightly purposeful feeling. Shopkeepers unlocking the doors, a few children running along the pavement on the way to school, and the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air. Usually I tend to rush down this road on the way to other places and I had never stopped to observe the small bakery tucked away on a side street. The windows were covered in a gold italic, fresh croissants and sourdough, it said. I went inside and looked at all the mouth-watering goods in the glass-fronted case. The man at the counter was wearing a crisp white apron and he pulled out a large silver tray, neatly packed with steaming loaves. There was already a row of golden croissants and other crusty sourdough rolls stacked up to the back of the bakery. Many smiled, then laughed at me kindly when I took a deep breath to inhale the sense of warm sugar. This was the day I wouldn't um an aaa over anything. No, every decision felt natural and I selected a small strawberry tart that glistened behind the glass. It was exactly what I felt like. The man wrapped the tart up in a brown paper bag and I chose a sourdough roll for later as well. When I took the bundle of bread, it was still pleasantly warm in my hands. I, it's in the street, I saw a bench and I sat there to eat my tart. I took a bite, the pastry was flaky and buttery and a creamy custard layer sat in the middle. It was all perfectly finished with plump strawberries sitting on top. There was sweet jam between the layers and all the flavors together made me think of a summer's day of freshly picked juicy fruit. Every part of the tart was delicious and I ate it slowly, savoring and thinking about each bite. Then I leaned back so I could lie down, feeling the wood against my back. I slowly pressed down on my spine so every inch of me was on the bench. I imagined that I could feel every knot in the wood on my skin that I could sense the grain. I lay there and looked up. There was one very large cloud and I watched as it moved across the sky. I breathed in and out and out. As I watched two smaller clouds follow, almost as if they were chasing the bigger cloud. I found that I could look at the clouds and think of nothing in particular. My thoughts seemed to float out of my body, joining the clouds in the sky. Very slowly I rose and stretched out in a satisfying movement. I didn't know what the time was, but this didn't seem to matter at all. I continued down the street and saw a building I had never noticed. It was a huge old church with lots of ivy growing up the walls. The doors were open and there was a lady cutting back the ivy outside. «Come inside» she said with a big smile. Inside the church was cool and pleasantly dark. As I walked down the aisle I could hear my footsteps echo through the building and I enjoyed the calming sound of my feet. «Tap» «Tap» «Tap» As I went slower than usual. I walked down past the lines of pews and towards a carved altar at the front. I looked up above was a vast scene of painted stars, too many to count, and I gazed that the deep blue ceiling and the stars dotted around. If I closed my eyes very slightly they almost seemed to sparkle. It all added to the sense of calm and I stood there for a while taking in the stillness of the church and the smell of candle wax and wood in the air. There was nothing at all to draw me away. In the distance there must have been a clock as I could hear the rhythmic «tic» «t», «t», «t», «t», that showed time was still passing as it always would. The stained glass at the front was formed of so many tiny pains set in a weathered stone wall. There were deep greens, red and cobalt blues. The sun came round and the rays streamed through the window, setting the scene alive. I realized that the window showed a river and lush green fields. I thought about the many hours that must have gone into its creation. I imagined craftsmen blowing glass and carefully laying the pains, and I thought of the first time it must have been installed in the church and how people must have felt to see the light shine through. When I left, I thanked the lady who had finished trimming the ivy and I walked down the street. I realized I never usually took the time to look around at the people getting on with their day. An old man was sweeping the steps of his house. A woman was holding the hand of a small girl and they walked down the street together, breathing me with a bright hello. I noticed a big yellow dog with huge floppy ears and a small red dog chasing him and it reminded me of the clouds from earlier, the push and the pull and the fact that things moved the same way in nature. It saw around her. When I listened to the hum of the street as it rose, fell, rose, fell. I tried to work out what was being said and I heard snippets of conversations, small details of lives that weren't mine and didn't make sense. Occasionally I heard a door open and closed. The sound seemed to sweep around me in a hug. I felt embraced by them and they washed away in a gentle wave. I noticed a green grocer with lots of enticing fruit baskets at the front and without thinking too much. I walked into the shop and looked at all the produce and offer, stacked up in a rainbow display. There were bright green peppers, waxy potatoes and big courgettes. Everything looked so tasty. I selected two vine tomatoes, then I saw there was a cheese munger next to the green grocer. I wondered in and spotted a ball of mozzarella. I bought it and carefully placed it with my bread and tomatoes in my bag. The paper bags rustled together as I walked. I had no plan. It was just a lovely day that stretched out before me, full of easy possibilities. I walked down the street and let my feet decide on a route. At the bottom of the street were iron gates and I could see tall trees, a twisting path and a bed of bright pink flowers. There was a sign that said, community garden guests are free to wonder. I had never seen this garden before but it was the perfect time to explore. I pushed open the gate and walked in. The path was made of what must have been thousands of small grey pebbles and I picked one up. It fit perfectly in my palm and the surface was smooth and cool. I rubbed at it, feeling the pebbles slowly become warm from the heat of my hand. Then I saw a fallen leaf and noted the perfect veins running down the centre. I picked it up too. I wasn't sure why I was drawn to these objects but I didn't think too much about it. I took the bottom of the path, there was a small green house and there was a sign on the door that read, open. So I opened the door and went in. Inside it was hot, the sands from many different herbs and plants were heavy in the air. There were lots of herbs and there were some I could recognise. I noted their names as I kneeled down to smell them. Parsley, basil, chives, coriander, dill, oregano, rosemary and sage. I saw small wooden sign with handwriting on it and walked closer to read it. The sign said, pick whatever you want. I thought of my picnic in my bag and took a big handful of basil. I sniffed the leaves. The basil was fresh and fragrant with a sweet peppery over a tone. It made me think of lush gardens and brought back memories of running around on a freshly cut lawn as a child. I left the green house, making sure to close the door carefully behind me and I walked back enjoying the gardens and watching his busy bees darted from flower to flower. I looked around to see what other animals I could see. If I lowered my gaze to the ground, I could just about make out a ladybird, bright and glossy red, nestled in the grass and appeared to look at her tiny black spots, amazed that nature could have created such a pattern. I gazed up to see a bird returning to its nest with sticks. On the animals in the garden had jobs and I watched them as they completed their tasks and added to the sounds of the garden with their chirping and buzzing. I sat under a tree, enjoying the shade on my face and took the mozzarella ball out of my bag. When I reached for the sourdough and pulled the roll into two parts, I added the tomato, gently crushing it between my fingers to release the flavor. It took a bite of the bread with the cheese in the tomato and I delighted in the tartness of the tomato paired with the creamy mozzarella. The bread still had a touch of warmth to it and I thought of the baker. He would have started early, waiting for it to rise just as the sun was coming up. Then he would have formed it carefully to make the roll. He would have watched it in the oven to make sure it didn't burn and then finally he would have put the rolls out for sale. All this had only happened a few hours before. I ate slowly and watched above as the sunlight came through the leaves of the trees and fell on my face, warming up some parts of my skin. Then the sun passed over and it became cooler. I felt my breathing slow and I lay back onto the grass and enjoyed the sensation of breathing in and out. I could feel my breath in and out, in and out. I let each breath rise. Each breath floated up and into the air, up into the clouds and higher. The breeze was light and I was in that half a week, half a sleep state where I could just about hear children laughing in the distance and feel the grass on my back. But everything felt a little removed, my senses muffled as I drifted off. After my short nap I opened my eyes very slowly, feeling the sun on my face for a moment. I rose, stretching up into the afternoon. I walked out of the garden and at the entrance an ice cream van was parked to the side with an old man passing out cones who made me think of summer holidays and sandy beaches. I looked at all the different flavors, a pale, smooth pistachio ice cream, one rippled with a whirl of dark pink raspberry puree. I chose a cone with a double scoop of vanilla ice cream. I took it in one hand and started to eat the ice cream. I liked the cooling effect on my throat. Afterward I felt satisfied, not hungry at all, but not too full. After finishing my ice cream I kept walking down the street and the afternoon was calm. People were still at work and there was a gentle lull to the day. The heat had gathered and settled in the air. Groups of friends and families sat outside the cafes that lined the street with glasses filled with icy drinks and their voices were soft murmurs. I heard the ice clink softly in the background as they chatted and drank. While I had been away in the garden I noticed that a florist had set up a stall with big shiny steel buckets full of different flowers. The combination of all colors, bright reds, dark pinks and rich purples was enticing and I looked at the display. I stood for what felt like a while. I didn't know what time it was and it didn't seem to matter as I just absorbed the colors and thought about the different flowers. The fragrance from the blooms was rich. There were wafts from the freezers, fresh and citrusy and the rich honeyd scent of roses. I looked for a moment that their velvet petals, that how the petals were formed and how they curled into each other so beautifully. I stood and took a long breath. I could smell lilac, sweet and powdery. If I breathed in and out all the aromas blended together, fading in and out of each other and I could enjoy it in different ways as the wind changed the sand. So I breathed in and out and out. The florist asked me if I wanted to buy a bunch and I realized that a bunch of flowers was exactly what I wanted. I asked if she would choose some for me. She sought for a moment, then she picked a pink rose and a selection of light and airy cosmos in blue, purple and orange. I appreciated how she'd selected such a pretty, slightly unexpected array of colors that I wouldn't have chosen myself. I liked how they looked against each other, some tall blooms and some smaller. Then she wrapped them all up with string and brown paper. She handed them to me and the paper crunched in my hand and I couldn't help but take another deep breath appreciating all the floral scents coming together. I thanked her and then I paid. I held my blooms in one hand and then I walked down the street. I savored every step, feeling the individual shape of each cobblestone under my foot as I walked, noting the way the light was constantly changing. Sometimes I would be under the shadows of the shop onnings, then walk into the sun and feel the warmth on my face. I let myself start to stroll home, not in a rush, just slowly moving away from the shopping streets and in the direction of the houses and the outskirts of the town. I felt myself settle into a steady rhythm. I wasn't thinking of anything, just looking around and observing my surroundings. This was a place I often passed but I never usually looked around much. I didn't usually watch the small river flowing alongside the small cottages that sat on the banks and I didn't usually notice the children drawing on the pavements in chalk. The weather gradually changed as I walked. It was still ever so warm but I felt the first drop of rain on my head. This wasn't unpleasant as it was still so warm and as a few more drops fell. I thought about how the rain would come and millions of drops would fall, each a slightly different size and temperature. And the rain would feed the community garden I'd been in earlier, keeping all the grass lush. It would become part of earth's water cycle, gathering in rivers, streams and oceans. And I thought of that as I walked. My focus on the water and its job, fully aware and receptive to the water as I became part of its cycle. When I got home, I opened my front door and walked in. It was nice to be back somewhere I knew very well. The calm space of my house at a familiar smell, when I took my shoes off, the tickle of the rug around my bare feet was very pleasant. I found a vase in the kitchen and placed my flowers in with water. Next I went to the candles on the mantle piece. It took a box of matches and lit one candle. I watched as the flame moved slowly, growing bigger and bigger. And the candle began to give off a smell of rose and bergamot. Then I lit a second candle, waited until the flame seemed to dance, creating shadows against the wall. Finally, I lit a third candle, and watched how it added to the other twos effect, creating a low flickering light in the room. I applied hand cream and I rubbed it into my hands, massaging my fingers and palms. I drew my hands together and enjoyed the feeling as it soaked in and hydrated my skin. The smell of lavender rose from my palms. When I pulled my hands away, they were very soft. When I went to my bedroom and pulled on my oldest and comfiest pajamas. Back down stairs I made a cup of chamomile tea and blew to cool it. I was in no rush as I smelled the comforting floral sand, the sofa-beckoned and I said. Once the tea had reached the ideal temperature, not too hot or cold, I drank, taking one long sip and thinking about the different layers of flavor. Another long sip and another. For each sip I observed how the tea tasted, how it warmed my throat and stomach and how that warming sensation stayed in my chest, even after I finished my drink. I placed the cup to one side, then pulled a thick tartan blanket over me, tucking it in and feeling the wool against my skin. We curled up on the sofa in a ball, letting my back and my legs sink into the cushions and feeling such comfort as the sofa seemed to come up and wrap around my body. A lovely, tired feeling ran through my muscles as I relaxed and let myself flow back into my memories of the day. It had been such a quiet day of simple joys. I had tasted so many delicious things and watched the world pass by. The animals in the garden and the people chatting and going about their days. The rain was tapping against the roof. Tap, tap, tap, then it quickened a little, tap, tap, tap and then slowed. I enjoyed how the rains seemed to speak to me and there was nothing to do and nowhere to be. I just listened to the sounds and thought of how cozy and warm I was, feeling every part of my body, softened and relaxed under the blanket. Cocooned and safe. I'll leave our story there for tonight. I hope you feel Cocooned and safe. Sleep well and sweet dreams.