← Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories
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- [00:02]
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Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy. I'm your host Thomas. Thanks for joining us for another episode taken from the Get Sleepy archives. For those of you who've been listening for many years with such loyal dedication, we would love to know which of our older episodes you'd enjoy seeing republished as a Friday night encore episode. It's been a lot of fun giving these tales a new life and bringing them to a fresh set of ears with our newer listeners. But with hundreds of previous episodes to choose from, we're always delighted for your suggestions, so feel free to email me tomgetsleepy.com or if you listen on a platform that allows comments, you can just pop your suggestions there Tonight's story is a variation on an old fairy tale about four famous musicians. But there's something unusual about these musicians. They're all animals and their music lulls even the most restless soul to sleep. It was written by Shady Grove Oliver and read by me. First published in 2020. So as usual, don't be surprised if my voice sounds notably different to what you're familiar with nowadays. So my friends, get yourself nice and comfy, resting in whatever position feels best. Take a slow breath in and gently let it out. And prepare to enjoy a charming, dreamy tale about four talented musicians. This is where our story begins.
- [02:55]
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Once upon a time, there were four famous musicians. They were known across the countryside as the best of the best. These four musicians were unlike any others because they were animals. It's not every day you find a donkey, a dog, a cat and a rooster who play music. Their talent and passion were unrivalled across the land. People came from far and wide to hear them play, especially because of what they played. Sleep Music. Our story begins in a small dance hall in an old cobblestone town where the four famous musicians were about to take the stage. The doors of the dance hall were propped open with a pair of large rocks. Men and women, girls and boys, young and old, made their way into the hall on this dark winter night. The street outside was covered in a light dusting of powdery snow. Oil lamps cast long shadows on the ground. There was a chill in the air that left the visitors rubbing their hands together for warmth as they walked through the wooden doors. But inside there was a toasty fire and so many smiling people that the hall was warm and inviting. They were bundled in thick woolen coats with colourful scarves tucked down snugly behind large buttons. The men and women wore gloves, some with fingers, some without. The children Wore puffy mittens with strings to keep them from getting lost or to hang them on snowmen, whose tree branch arms certainly needed protection from the cold. The air in the dance hall buzzed with excitement. Tonight is the night, people whispered among themselves. Many of them had waited years to hear the famous musicians from Bremen Town. The actual town of Bremen was quite far away. So far, in fact, across the hills and through the forests that most of the town's folks didn't really know where it was. It was more of a mythical place to them, a faraway place. The kind of faraway place that produces animal musicians who play better than the best human quartets. The kind of faraway place where donkeys can talk, where dogs can play the kettle drum, where a cat's meow is a beautiful melody, and where roosters crow a relaxing tune. The whole village, it seemed, packed itself into the little dance hall that night. It was sure to be the most wondrous performance the hall had ever seen. There was a small wooden stage up front. Across the stage hung a heavy brocade curtain, somewhat faded with age, but sturdy nonetheless. Behind the curtain stood the Donkey, the Dog, the Cat, the Rooster. As is common with animals who unexpectedly find themselves together, these four musicians had no need for names. They addressed one another directly, as they were Donkey, Dog, Cat and Rooster. Donkey fancied himself the leader of the troop. He was, after all, the first of the four to dream up such a whimsical endeavour. His parents were hard working donkeys who carried corn sacks to the mill back home. They did this work with pride and did it well, year after year. But Donkey had always dreamed of more. When he was young, he spied a human boy about his own age learning to play a strange stringed instrument with an oddly bent top. He asked his mother what it was. A lute, she explained. It was then that Donkey knew what he wanted from life. He asked his mother if he too could learn to play the lute. And so, for one year, Donkey spent every evening beside the human boy, learning to tune and strum the lute. He was a quick study and soon surpassed the boy in skill and patience. At the end of the year, their teacher pulled Donkey aside after one particularly successful lesson. You were born to play the lute, the teacher said. You play more beautifully than anyone I have ever heard. And you do it with hooves. Donkey beamed with pride. That night he told his mother and father what his teacher said. The next day, he set out on the road to Bremen with a pack on his back and his lute strapped on Top. He was off to make his way as the finest lute player in the world. On the road, he met Dog. Dog was short and stout, with fine hair and a determined face. Behind her, she pulled a small cart. On top of the cart was a finely polished kettle drum. How strange, Donkey thought to himself. He'd never seen a dog pulling a drum before. How odd, thought Dog. She'd never seen a donkey carrying a loop before. Donkey looked Dog up and down. Do you actually play that drum? He asked. Dog nodded, adding that she played the kettle drum with more heart than any human ever could. Now, a lute is a fine instrument to play by itself, but every band should have a drummer, Donkey thought, and that thought surprised him. He'd never thought of starting a band before. But seeing Dog with her drum made him realise how lonely he might be walking down this road with a lute as his only companion. Donkey shared his plans to head to Bremen and play music. He invited Dog to join. It would be much better with a drummer. Dog considered this offer. She, too, was unlike others of her kind. Her parents were hunters who worked at the estate of a wealthy landowner. They enjoyed their work and she did not. She found hunting tedious. It was a delicate task made for patient dogs. She was not a patient dog. She preferred to practice her drumming rhythms. She spent long evenings alone in a barn, playing her kettle drum by the light of an oil lamp. She loved it, to be sure, but it could be lonely with the drum as her only companion. After due consideration, she agreed to join Donkey on this adventure. So they set off towards Bremen Town. Further down the road, they encountered Cat, who was sitting by the side of the road, licking his fur. As they passed, he blinked at them with wide, sad eyes. Cat was supposed to be a mouser, he explained, but there was one big problem. He liked mice. Some of his closest friends were mice. They shared their cheese with him, and he let them lick the bottom of his milk bowl. He had no interest in chasing mice. Instead, he spent his evenings singing beautiful songs to no one in particular. Might as well find a way to get paid for my songs, he thought to himself one day. So he set off down the road. He soon grew tired of walking, though his paws were not accustomed to the hard and dusty dirt roads, and his fur required much more grooming than usual. And so when Donkey said they were looking for a singer, Cat found the offer intriguing. But he had one condition. He wanted to ride in Donkey's saddlebag. Donkey happily obliged, and off they went. A little further down the road, the trio came to a fence. On the fence sat a rooster. They told Rooster they were going to Bremen Town. Rooster didn't explain why he was sitting on a fence near the side of the road. They didn't ask. In fact, they didn't speak much at all. Rooster flapped his way onto Dog's cart with little more than a single crow. Now, some animals would have had a problem with this, but Donkey, Dog and Cat did not. After all, they too were unlike many of their peers. Roosters are known for being loud and always wanting to be the center of attention. If this rooster was quiet, who were they to find that strange? His crowing was unusually calming and pleasant and would surely make a fine addition to their band. With Rooster secure on the cart, the quartet continued down the road towards Bremen. In Bremen Town, they didn't make a name for themselves at first. They played on the streets and landed a few gigs. They got by, but nobody seemed to think they were anything special. Until one night when they were laying down in, exhausted from a full day of playing. Cat and Dog were curled up, purring and snoring respectively. Rooster's eyes were closed as he perched on the window sill. Donkey was still awake, though. He couldn't stop thinking about the band. This was his dream, to play music, and it wasn't panning out quite like he'd hoped. He paced around the room, trying to be quiet, but Rooster heard him and peeped one eye open. You should sleep, rooster whispered. I'll crow something soft and relaxing to help. Donkey knew Rooster was right, so he laid down, resting his head on his hooves. Rooster began to crow softly into the night air. It was the gentlest, sweetest melody that Donkey had ever heard. Donkey grabbed his lute and began to strum, delicately supporting Rooster's melody. They looked at each other with a grin. They were onto something. They nudged Cat and Dog, who got up and joined in. Dog tapped a calming rhythm and Cat hummed gracefully. This music was like nothing they'd ever heard. It was soft, relaxing and novel. The next day, they waited patiently and until the sun began to disappear below the horizon. They went to the centre of town, and as the last glimmer of sunlight was replaced by street lights, they began to play their new sleep music. Sweet and gentle sounds filled the town square. It didn't attract a crowd, but slowly townspeople began opening their windows, allowing the calming tunes to enter their homes. Babies crying in their cribs fell silent. The whole town seemed to fall asleep. After playing for a few hours, the band was getting tired and decided to pack up for the night. But as they loaded Dog's drum on the pool cart, a man came running up. Their music had put his baby to sleep for the first time in months. He would pay them anything to keep playing. The bandmates looked at each other and smiled. It was their first encore. They graciously accepted the gentleman's request and played the whole night through. When the sun began to peek above the horizon, the band packed up and headed home. They were so pleased, but so exhausted. As they walked home, a young woman came up and asked if they were the band playing last night. It was the sweetest music she'd ever heard. She wanted them to play again tonight. The bandmates looked at each other and shrugged. Of course, they said, they just needed some sleep first. The as they continued towards home, another person asked the same thing. And then another and another. Despite their exhaustion, the bandmates couldn't hide their grins. Once they got home, they laid down, completely spent. They each drifted off with the calming vibrations of their music still tingling in their ears. That night, as they set up in the town centre, cheers rang out from every window. A bit surprised, they all took a bow and began to play. Once again, they lulled all of Bremen town to sleep. After a few nights, they began to make a name for themselves. Venues started hosting sleeping parties. People would show up with big fluffy pillows and warm cosy blankets, and everyone would sleep while the band played. They played show after show and sold out night after night. They drew larger crowds than the city had ever seen before. They got house calls from people who were stressed or had young children that refused to get in bed no matter who listened. No one could fight the desire to sleep when the band played, and they loved it. Donkey played his lute like a lullaby. Dog gently tapped her drum. Cats sang sweet melodies and Rooster crowed calmly when the time was right. They lived well and they wanted for nothing. Year after year, people came to hear the animal musicians of Bremen town and get the best sleep of their lives. The band traveled far and wide, playing for crowds who knew them by name. And they always returned home to play for the greatest crowd of all. But show business can be tiring, especially when you're in the business of putting people to sleep. Sitting on stage night after night with all those unknown faces, expecting something marvellous. Having to watch others sleep while you stay awake and sleeping only during the day. After years of playing, Donkey's hooves were growing tired. Dog couldn't hit the drum with quite the same touch that she once had. Cat's voice was Getting scratchy. And Rooster didn't crow with the same care that he used to. It was time to retire from the stage, they decided, but they didn't know how. All they'd ever known was music. And they still wanted to play, of course, but maybe just on a porch, somewhere quiet. No more dance halls, no more stages, no more crowds. After one particularly tiring show, the four sat around a table to discuss their plans. The following night, they would announce their retirement. They decided it would be their farewell show. They'd go out on top, play the best they ever had and guide people to sleep like never before. It was a marvellous show and the perfect way to end a successful career. There was one problem, though. It was too perfect. The crowd loved the show. They all woke in the morning glowing with happiness and delight. The band went home thinking it had been their last night as performers. They all laid down, exhausted from years of playing all night. Their eyelids were heavier than ever and their muscles relaxed in anticipation of a long rest. And they all slept well. When they woke, they couldn't wait to begin retirement. Donkey walked slowly to the market for some fresh food. He paused as he always did at the wall where notices of town events were pinned up outside a shop. Much to his surprise, he saw one peculiar notice promoting a second farewell show for the Brementown musicians, happening that very night. How could it be? Donkey wondered. They hadn't agreed to play again. He went back home and told the others none of them wanted to play. But they also didn't want to disappoint their fans. Their fans had been so loyal over the years, and if they'd been promised a show, it would be wrong to let them down. And so they played again. The next day they awoke, ready to finally begin their retirement. But yet again, they found a notice pinned up by the shop. That night, they played their third farewell show. And so it went for months. This has to stop. Cat cried. After nearly a year of farewell shows, Dog nodded in agreement. No matter how hard they tried to stop playing, their fans called them back again. There had to be a better way. They couldn't move to a different town. They were too famous. People knew them all over the land. Whatever could be done. They came up with a hundred ideas, but each fell short. Until one day when Rooster realised he had a plan that just might work. Sometimes Rooster would go out for a walk to clear his head. On particularly nice days, he would go for a walk and a short flight to stretch out his wings. One time, he found himself flying over the deepest, greenest Most secluded part of the forest. He looked down and saw a small cabin surrounded by a fence with a stone chimney and an elegant wraparound porch. What a lovely looking house. He thought. It was the perfect retirement home for the four musicians who still thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. He landed in a clearing beside the cabin where there was a small garden filled with plump vegetables. He walked over to the porch, hopped up and flapped gently to peek in through the window. Inside was an old man with a long beard playing the flute. The man played beautifully. Brewster flew back home to Bremen Town full of cheer. He went inside the house where the three other tired musicians sat by the fire, resting their aching hooves and paws. He told them of the cottage with the chimney and porch. He told them how secluded it was. He told them of the old man inside who played the flute beautifully, but seemed lonely playing all by himself. Donkey, Dog and Cat listened attentively. They'd never heard Rooster talk so much. All they had to do was convince the old man to let them stay. They'd offer to play music with him and help with the garden. It was so deep within the forest, the townsfolk would never find them. With this plan, they didn't have to move to another town. They didn't have to wear disguises. All they had to do was go to the most lovely cabin in the world and finally rest. They quietly packed up their instruments and locked up their old house. Cat hopped onto Donkey's pack. Rooster flapped up onto Dog's cart, and off they went down the forest road. They walked and walked deeper and deeper into the forest. They walked until the trees grew closer together, until everything around them seemed to be a darker shade of green, until the only sounds were their own footsteps on the path. They came to a clearing surrounded by a tall fence, the same one Rooster had landed in the night before. The old man was outside tending to his garden. Rooster, being able to fly, was the only one who could see over the fence. But they didn't want to startle the old man by flying right over to him. So Donkey knelt down and Dog climbed up on his back. Then Cat climbed on top of Dog, and Rooster flapped his way up to stand on Cat. With his head reaching just over the top of the fence. Rooster crowed in the friendliest way he could. The old man looked up and walked over calmly towards the fence. With kindness and confidence, Rooster introduced himself and said he had heard the man's beautiful flute playing. He and his friends were musicians as well and needed a break from show business. They wanted to play music with him and helped tend to his garden. The old man paused for a moment and then walked towards a gate in the fence. He leaned his head through the gate, taking a look at the animals waiting patiently on the other side. I used to be a touring musician once too, he said with a smile. He waved the animals over to the gate. He let them inside and led them to his cabin. A delicious stew was cooking over the crackling fire in the stone fireplace. Its smell filled the cabin. The old man served up a steaming bowl for everyone. They shared stories about playing music and being on the road. Their hearts warmed to find a kindred soul. What a lovely place to retire, the animals thought. No more shows, no more crowds, no more playing all night. Just a cabin, a porch, a friendly old man, and maybe a campfire around which they could play their music for each other, just as they'd done so many years ago. As the day faded into night, the old man made an offer they couldn't refuse. Since they had spent so many nights putting others to sleep, he would put them to sleep tonight. Donkey sat in an armchair and put his hooves up to warm by the fire. Dog curled up on a nearby mat. Cat perched on the back of a chair and licked his paws. Rooster flew up to perch on the mantle, and with that, the old man pulled out his flute, took a deep breath, and sent peaceful tunes into the night air. The four legendary musicians of Bremen had finally reached their long overdue retirement. The soft music soothed their tired eyes, The warm fire relaxed their tired muscles, And they fell into the most restful sleep that they'd had in years.
- [45:04]
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