← Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories
Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories
Seashells in the Sand
00:53:15
Narrated by Jessika. Emma spends an afternoon at the beach, searching for shells and relaxing in a secluded cove.
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- [00:01]
Ryan Reynolds
Get Sleepy is a production of Slumber Studios and is made possible thanks to the generous support of our sponsors and Premium members. If you'd like to listen ad free and access weekly bonus episodes, extra long stories and our entire back catalogue, you can try out premium free for seven days by following the link in the episode notes. Now a quick word from our sponsors. Ryan Reynolds here for Mint Mobile. You know one of the perks about having four kids that you know about is actually getting a direct line to the big man up north.
- [00:36]
Mint Mobile Voice
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- [00:37]
Ryan Reynolds
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- [00:45]
Mint Mobile Voice
Give it a try@mintmobile.com switch $45 upfront payment required equivalent to $15 per month new customers on first 3 month plan only Taxes and fees extra special speed slower above 40 gigabytes on unlimited. See mintmobile.com for details. This episode is brought to you by Dutch Bros. Big smiles, rocking tunes and epic drinks Dutch Bros. Is all about you. Choose from a variety of customizable handcrafted beverages like our Rebel Energy drinks, coffees, teas and more. Download the Dutch Bros. App for a free medium drink plus find your nearest shop, order ahead and start earning rewards offer valid for new app users only. Free medium drink Reward upon registration 14 day expiration terms see DutchBros.com hey friends.
- [01:31]
Ryan Reynolds
Welcome to Get Sleepy where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy. As always, my name's Thomas and I'm honored to be your host. Tonight's story was written by Joe and will be read by Jessica. Shortly we'll join a lady named Emma as she heads to the coast for an afternoon of sun, sea and blissful relaxation. First though, I want to remind you that you can listen completely ad free on GetSapee Premium. It's the very best way you can support the show and as well as zero ads, you'll also get full access to our entire catalogue of full length stories and meditations which is now well over 800 episodes. There are hundreds of bonus episodes that you can't hear anywhere else. And every Thursday night we release a brand new Premium exclusive just for our supporters. Tomorrow I'll be reading a beautiful meditation where we'll picture ourselves floating gently and safely on the lazy current of a river. It's a great time to become a Premium supporter and it's also a great time to gift a subscription to a friend or loved one. With the festive season, well and truly upon us. Remember that a good night's rest is one of life's greatest gifts, so perhaps your friends and family would really appreciate a Get Sleepy Premium subscription. To find out more about Get Sleepy Premium, including gifting a subscription, visit getsleepy.com support or just follow the link in the show notes. Thank you so much for your support. Now get settled into a comfortable position where you can breathe freely and allow your body to relax. Give your limbs a moment to stretch and lengthen, feeling any tension in them just melting away as your body sinks into the mattress and then come back to that place of restful stillness. Once you are ready, begin to imagine your body surrounded by radiant light. Warm and glowing. It can be whatever color you like, so long as it brings a sense of calm. And as you breathe in, draw that light into your body, feeling its glow within. The deeper you breathe, the more that light fills every single part of your body. One breath at a time, you are enriched by this radiant glow. You it feels like an energy, like a natural source of healing, full of nourishing warmth, and it clears you of all worries, all discomforts and negativity. You glow from within and everything in the outer world will notice and appreciate it too. So embrace it, believe it, and smile. If you feel yourself slipping away from the awareness of your glow, then just visualize that light around you once more and draw it in again. With the breath, your body and mind can continue to deepen into the comfort and ease of this restful night. Meanwhile, just follow along with Jessica's soothing voice. It's time to join Emma, who is standing on the driveway in front of her home. This is where our story begins.
- [07:38]
Emma
Emma looks back towards her house. Its solid brick walls have reddish brown hues, while the roof consists of terracotta tiles. Five big windows are positioned across the front of the house. To one side, not far from the central doorway, there's also a large garage door. Like the door and the windows, the garage is a shade of purest white. All are spotlessly clean. After a morning of housework, everything appears just as Emma would like it to. Colourful curtains hang behind each window near carefully placed ornaments and photo frames. Through the downstairs window, a large round vase is visible. It's filled with a bouquet of gorgeous freshly picked daffodils. The blooms are a dazzling shade of yellow and their petals are shaped like glowing stars circling around a yellow trumpet at the center there, a welcome splash of sunshine beaming out from behind the glass. Emma feels a sense of comfort and pride as she looks at her home the front garden is in perfect shape, too. Next to the driveway, there's a rectangular lawn with vibrant green grass and a wide strip of soil containing a dozen or so plants. They display a kaleidoscope of colour across their open petals. Emma planted them herself, some recently and others years ago. She's admired their blooms for many a spring and summer. After looking at her garden with satisfaction, Emma climbs into her car and closes the door. Beside her on the passenger seat is a blue and white striped canvas bag. A bright fuchsia pink beach towel sticks out next to the bag's white rope handle. Emma always uses this bag when she goes to the coast, and even the sight of it lifts her spirits. She keeps it packed all year long with sun cream and flip flops, books and headphones, all the essentials that she might need at the beach. And she's added a few extras today for her spontaneous afternoon of seaside relaxation. Emma turns the keys and fastens her seat belt as the engine is brought to life. She winds down the windows, smiling at the warmth of the sun on her skin. It's a beautiful afternoon. Putting on her sunglasses, she takes one last look at her house through the rearview mirror. And then she pulls off the driveway onto the road. The adventure has begun. Before she moved here, Emma had never been all that spontaneous, preferring to plan her outings months ahead of time. But living here has changed her spur of the moment trips have become more and more usual over the years. After all, it's just a 35 minute drive to reach Golden Sands and Clear Water. The first few times she made this journey, she didn't enjoy it as she does now. Back then, she was so impatient to get there that she would wish the journey away. But at some point, Emma realized that she could slow down her mind and stay present. There was no need to postpone her relaxation. She could begin by enjoying the drive itself. Emma follows the route she's travelled many times before, but she notices signposts and road markings as though this is her first journey. She takes in the surroundings, from pedestrians on the pavement to the names and colors displayed across shop fronts. The car radio is kept off. She listens instead to the sounds of the outside world. There's the gentle hum of her own car's engine and the constant rolling of its tires on the road. And then there are the other cars, near and far, sung with music playing through open windows. It grows fainter as the cars go off in different directions. Emma makes a game of listening, noticing the exact moment when the sounds fade entirely. The route takes her through her neighborhood and the centre of town and then onto the motorway. She winds up her window, leaving the tiniest of gaps to allow a little air through. The breeze billows through the car, moving strands of her hair, which is tied high in a ponytail. It isn't long before she's pulling off the slip road and making her way along the quaint coastal roads. Her surroundings become greener now, and the road lifts up and down with the undulating landscape. Soon she finds herself driving through a charming coastal village. It's quiet, with only the occasional person walking along the pavement. The streets are lined with old stone buildings, many painted in soft pastel shades. Emma loves the buildings here. The colors remind her of boiled sweets, the kind she used to eat as a child. Once again, she winds down her windows, catching the tune of a distant ice cream van. Seagulls core in the blue sky above the endless waves. The sea is visible now as a line of watercolor blue, an inch thick below the horizon. She can smell it too, in the salty air wafting through the car windows. At the end of the street, the road curves before climbing upwards, twisting and turning like a ribbon. It flattens out at the top, forming miles of smooth, flat roads surrounded by greenery. This is Emma's favourite part of the drive. Even though the sea is obscured from sight, the air up here is magnificently fresh. And there's something quite wonderful about driving along this high up road with only the birds between her and the sky. Gradually, the road begins to descend, curving towards the promenade below. The sea comes into view once more, as vast as it is beautiful. And she can see the beach too, its golden yellow sands bathed in sunlight. Emma grins at the sight of it. Pulling up to a stop at the beachfront car park, she frees her feet from their socks and shoes and slides on her trusty orange flip flops. Then off she goes with her beach bag, strolling happily towards the sand. Before she gets there, Emma pauses. Leaning on the railings of the concrete walkway, she looks out across the glistening coastline and breathes in the fresh sea air. Like the village, the main beach is relatively quiet. There's an elderly couple sunbathing on deck, chairs at their feet. Their grandchildren play happily. Elsewhere, a young family sit eating a picnic behind a windbreaker on a large checkered blanket. A young woman performs yoga on the sand, stretching up and down in slow, deliberate movements. Emma sees dog walkers too, one of whom instantly captures her attention. A man in his 50s walks with his gorgeous yellow Labrador. They stroll together along the coastline, playing a game of throw and catch again and again. The man throws a ball towards the water and watches gleefully as the dog bounds in to retrieve it. After finding the ball, the Labrador holds it in its mouth, then returns to place it at the man's feet. The dog looks up pleadingly, begging for the ball to be thrown once more. Both the man and his pet look as happy as can be, though the Labrador's fur is dripping wet after many watery expeditions. Realizing this, every so often the dog shakes the saltwater from its coat, showering his owner. The man's loud, hearty laugh is carried right across the beach. Emma thinks this laugh is one of the warmest and loveliest that she's ever heard. She calls this beach her happy place, though the actual spot she's referring to is is a little further along. The solitary cove is concealed behind a rock face and usually missed by tourists and sightseers. It's a hidden gem, unspoiled and beautiful. Emma thinks of the place as her own. It's her personal paradise, a secret hideaway that she can find whenever she wishes. She strolls down the steps onto bright golden sands. Her hair dances in the brisk sea breeze, tickling her neck and shoulders. Looking ahead, she sees that the tide is out. The water remains far off in the distance. Emma's flip flops sink into the ground, causing sand to trickle over the tops of her feet and toes. She decides to remove her flip flops, holding them in her hand as she continues barefoot. The sand is soft and fine, similar to the texture of powdered sugar. And it's warm too. Falling between her toes. As she walks, Emma examines the sand beneath her feet. Scattered all around are shells of every variety left behind by the tide. They glisten like jewels in the afternoon sunlight. Some are oval like oyster shells, their surfaces as smooth as glass. Others are round and curling like the shell of a snail. A few of the shells are wide and and spiraling with patterns of concentric circles. They're shaped like tulips and ice cream cones or the instruments that make up a brass band. The most common type here are scallop shells. From a point at their center, the ridges rise, spanning out to form a fan like shape. Their colours differ greatly from deep chocolate browns and bright golden ambers to stunning pinks and purples. Over time, the shell's patterns have been altered by sun and saltwater, resulting in a watercolour effect that looks almost painted on. Some have been washed so many times that their color has faded completely, leaving behind shells of the pearliest, creamiest White. These shells sparkle most of all in the bright sunshine of this perfect cloudless day. The sun warms Emma's legs below her knee length shorts and soaks into the fabric of her light linen shirt. If she was walking somewhere else, she might think the temperature was a little too warm. But that's the wonderful thing about the seaside. You can always count on that luscious sea breeze. It flows around her, rising and falling like the rolling waves, cooling the air to the perfect temperature. After a while, Emma changes direction, veering right towards the water. The sand becomes wetter, causing her feet to dip with each step. She looks back now and then, examining the imprints of her feet and toes. Her footsteps are delicate and careful as she goes around the growing number of seashells. And as she moves closer towards the sea, there are puddles of saltwater to navigate to. For the most part, Emma steps over these little pools, crossing the gap with long strides. Occasionally she walks around them where the water is too wide to cross. But eventually Emma reaches a puddle that's as long as it is wide. So she steps right into it. Feeling the water rise to her ankles. She pauses in the middle of the pool, closing her eyes. She enjoys the touch of water against her skin. The wet sand is silky beneath her feet and the water is warm and soothing, heated by the sun. Opening her eyes, she walks onwards, sending tiny waves across the surface of the puddle. Droplets of water splash at her legs as she paddles. They're noticeable only for a second before quickly drying in the heat. She feels playful and carefree, like a child in a raincoat and wellies, splashing her way through a large muddy puddle. Though her surroundings on the beach are far more comfortable, by the time she steps out onto the damp sand, she feels decades younger. Better still, she can see the tide now, frothing and foaming against the shore. Emma walks to meet it until she's standing at the edge and watching, mesmerized. No matter how many times she looks at this view, it never fails to impress her. Each wave swells and rises, pulling at the shoreline as it gathers momentum. Then it begins to roll, curling over itself again and again, the sea disappearing behind a briny white curtain. And finally, the wave stretches out across the sand in a veil of foaming bubbles. Emma steps into the foam so it washes over her feet and ankles. It's much cooler than the water of the puddle and it's wonderfully refreshing. She can feel the sea's pull gently tugging at her ankles. Emma reaches down and traces her free hand below the surface in an unspoken greeting to the vast blue sea. On her other hand, Emma wears a ring. She bought it nearby from a local jeweler on her first visit here. The thin gold band is topped with a circular gemstone at the center, semiprecious lapis lazuli. It's a deep, powerful blue, containing tiny flecks of gold and bronze. As soon as Emma saw the ring in the shop, she knew she had to have it. The stone is the colour of the sea, glittering beneath golden sunlight, a whirl of sand flickering below the surface. She wears the ring often. Whenever she looks at it, she's reminded of this wonderful place and the peace it evokes, though nothing quite compares to the real thing in front of her now. A few swimmers are out at sea today, their heads bobbing happily above the water. Beyond, a solitary figure rides a bodyboard through the surf. And in the distance, the blurred outline of a cruise ship sails across the horizon, transporting holidaymakers to their next destination. Emma ponders this, imagining the exotic locations that the ship might visit. Moments later, she catches sight of the familiar rock face stretching out into the water. The rock face is so wide and tall that it splits the beach into two distinct halves. From here, it looks like a wall. So for people approaching, the sight of this rock face signals the end of the coastline. Time to turn around. Aside from Emma, very few people continue their approach. If they did, they too might discover what she found long ago. On the other side, there's a V shape formed of rocky walls with a tranquil little bay at its centre. This is Emma's happy place. It's accessible through a winding passageway some 20 meters back from the water. Her smile widens with every step towards it as she maneuvers her way gracefully around the twisting rock. By the time she arrives in the secluded cove, she's beaming in a strange and wonderful way. It feels like coming home. She sets down her bag on a smooth, low rock and begins to unpack its contents. The fuchsia towel is the first to come out, laid on the sand in a perfect pink rectangle. Then there's her sun cream, her book and a velvety little pillow to put behind her head. She positions the towel within reaching distance of the rock, which is like a handy bedside table. It's the perfect place for her drink a bottle of homemade peach tea. Emma made the tea this morning, softening the peaches in hot sugary water before mashing them gently into a gooey golden liquid. Then she left it to infuse, continuing her housework and Returning two hours later. Like her grandma had taught her, the liquid was sweet and syrupy and the colour of sunlight, just as it should be. She pressed it through a sieve, collecting excess pulp on the wire mesh and allowing the smooth syrup to pour out below. It filled the bottom of a large glass jug, providing a sweet, peachy base for the litres of freshly brewed tea added next. This was left to cool in the refrigerator, helped along by handfuls of ice. Emma added some extra ice later to the bottle of tea that she has brought here. Some of it has melted, resulting in a drink that is chilled and refreshing. She sips from it now, enjoying the delicious peachy taste as she sits on the fuchsia towel. Then she stretches out her legs, gazing admiringly at the view ahead. She's the perfect distance from the lapping waves. Far enough to avoid getting wet and close enough to really see. The COVID has marvelous acoustics. The gentle harmonies of the waves bounce about its walls, amplifying everything like a high tech sound system. This only adds to the feeling of seclusion. Emma is about to lie back and relax when a splash of colour catches her eye. It's a shell twinkling in the sand nearby and it seems to be a clamshell, or half of it at least. Looking closer, Emma is quick to recognize it, thanks to its unique shape and texture. It's an angel wing shell and it looks exactly like that. The surface appears to be etched with a series of raised lines, as if it were carved by some master sculptor. Each ridge is an equal distance from its neighbour, fanning outwards from inside to out every few millimeters. The lines are raised higher, like tiny mountain ranges. When viewed in the glow of the sun, they look like diamonds shining on the wings. Holding the shell in her fingers, Emma runs her eyes over its inner and outer surface. She's encountered these shells before, but nothing quite like this. The shells of an angel wing clam are usually pristine white in color, but this one is a soft, dusky pink, like the petals on a cherry blossom tree. Emma decides that she will keep the shell as a souvenir of today's exploration. She places it down on the rock beside her. Then she takes another sip of cool sweet tea and applies sun cream to any exposed skin. The lotion is thick and creamy and it smells like fresh ripened coconuts as it disappears into her skin. Emma lies back, resting her head on the velvet pillow. Her body sinks into the towel and she feels every muscle relax. Then she turns her head, reaching for her book for as long as she can remember. Emma has loved to read. Today's book is one that she's read before. It's a novel, a tale of mystery, romance and heart warming epiphanies. She's enjoying it immensely, perhaps even more so than the first time around. Despite having started it just a week ago, she's already three quarters through, and now, with the ending in sight, she finds it easier than ever to become lost within its pages. The story plays out like a movie in her mind, matched to a soundtrack of echoing waves. It's a blissful way to pass the hours. She pauses only to turn the pages, reaching now and then for a sip of her drink. Occasionally she changes position, turning on her side. By the time she reaches the final page, she's lying on her front, facing towards the water. Emma smiles, having greatly enjoyed the escape into fiction. But it's equally pleasing to return to the present and the beautiful surroundings of this idyllic little cove. Resting on her elbows, with her legs stretched behind her, Emma lifts her gaze upward and stretches out her muscles. She looks calm and composed. Her mind is still as clear as the sky above. She's completely in tune with the sensations within her, from the overall weight of her body to all the places where it touches the ground. She notices the breeze flowing gently through her hair and clothes, and with her chest and heart open towards the waves, she draws in a long and nourishing breath. The air is invigorating and restorative, while the sea is ever more inviting. What could be more refreshing than a splash of seawater? Emma positions her bag at the center of the towel, keeping it in place. Then she walks towards the water, her arms swaying loosely at her sides. She counts the number of strides, a habit from childhood, and she reaches number 14 before her feet touch the water, just like before. It feels wonderful against her skin, though perhaps a little warmer than it was hours ago. Emma's shorts stop at the knee, but she lifts them up a few inches higher. She casts her eyes across the shallow water, finding a patch where the sand is smooth below the surface. Then she lowers herself down, kneeling in the sea's briny veil. The sea appears calmer and quieter than before, almost as though it's dozing. There are far fewer waves visible on its surface, and the swimmers have long since gone to shore. Where Emma is kneeling. The water sits inches above the sand. Though it laps gently against her skin, it never once rises beyond her knees. Emma raises her sunglasses, placing them on top of her head, and gazes down into the water. Next she leans forwards, gathering water with her hands held together, she closes her eyes, splashing the water over her face once and then again. With her eyes still shut, she lifts her head to the sky. Emma sits like this for a few minutes, feeling her face dry beneath the sun, until she opens her eyes. Relaxed and refreshed, she pushes herself up with her hands to stand in the water. And she's about to leave when she spots a familiar and enchanting sight. By her feet. Where there was nothing before, there is a dusky pink shell. It's the other half of the angel wing shell. Lifting it to the light, Emma admires the surface of the shell, marveling at her fortune to find such a jewel. It's a gift from the sea, meant just for her. Later on, when she's back at home, she'll lay these shells down on her bedside table. They'll rest within a dish of pearly white ceramic alongside the ring that's the colour of the sea. Emma will look at these items as she climbs beneath the covers. And each and every night before she falls asleep, her last thoughts will be of the beach.
- [45:11]
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