← Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories
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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.
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welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy. My name's Thomas and I'm your host. Thank you so much for being here. Your listenership means everything to the whole team here and we're so grateful to have such a lovely and supportive community for this show. We have a charming tale tonight written by Shauna Marie and read by Chloe, in which we'll be traveling to distant lands with twin brothers Richard and Henry and their magical swing. So let's prepare to listen with a few minutes of mindfulness and relaxation. Begin by putting any physical distractions to one side and adjusting anything you need to make sure you're as comfortable as possible. Taking those initial steps to make space for rest and to send a signal to your body and mind that it's time to settle down. If you're anything like me, you may find that when you remove the distractions that are present throughout our daily lives and try to settle down, quite often a lot of thoughts come up and start vying for your attention. It could be reminders and to do lists, memories from the day just gone, or concerns and thoughts about the future. But whatever comes to mind, they tend to be disruptive for our ability to settle and rest. Our minds do seem to like organization. They're rather content when they can process and problem solve, but sometimes that can feel quite overwhelming. The mind is a bit like a filing cabinet full of all sorts of papers, each representing a thought, a reminder or a memory. So as you notice thoughts coming to the forefront of your attention, try to consciously organize them into one of the following three folders. The folders are labeled Done, Tomorrow and Someday. Now, if and when a thought comes to mind, you can file it into the relevant folder. If it's something you know you've already dealt with, put it in. Done. If it's something you need to deal with soon, perhaps it can go in tomorrow. And if it's nothing too pressing or something way off in the future, file it into Someday. Your brain knows how to organize your thoughts. And as you file each of them in this simple way, I hope you'll feel less burdened and gradually more relaxed and ready to switch off and rest. So now let's turn to our story. Somewhere in England lived the Butterworth family who were spending the afternoon in their back garden. This is where our story begins.
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6 year old Richard bent down and then stretched his back and waist like a middle aged man. He then raised his hands over his head like the branches of the creaking tree in front of him. His twin brother Henry, waddled from point to point in the back garden to see their father's creation from various angles. In truth, the boys were so overwhelmed with happiness that for a moment they didn't know what to do with themselves. But then the brothers eyes met and they knew exactly what to do. They approached their father and wrapped their arms around Mr. Butterworth's lanky legs. Then the boys rolled on the ground and giggled. In between chuckles, they said thank you over and over again. After days of keeping the boys away from the kitchen window, after researching what ropes were the strongest and how to tie sailor knots, the swing was finished. No, the swing was perfect. Mr. Butterworth joined in with the boy's laughter and he too rolled happily on the ground. Though he was a carpenter by profession, he was glad he was done with the swing. Mr. Butterworth had debated whether he should have the input of his boys throughout the process, but ultimately he decided that making it a surprise was best. And so, on a mild winter afternoon, Mr. Butterworth had held his breath as he took a seat on one of the swings. He looked up at the branch of the great oak and it did not creak or sag. Mr. Butterworth let out a sigh of relief and then ran inside for his boys. A wind came from the east. The two seats swayed in the wind and there was a sound. There was the sound of chimes from a distant land, one that almost sounded like magic. The Butterworths were were A friendly lot. They lived in a close at the end of the street that was quiet for the most part. Now and then there would be the sound of migrating birds or the distant and hollow sound of a train whistle come evening, but nothing that disturbed them. To the Butterworths, it often seemed that they were on an island, that the rest of England was far, far away. The bedrooms were big and the kitchen had brand new black and white tiles, but the boys hardly noticed. When Mr. Butterworth first took his boys to view the newly built bungalow, he could barely open the front door before they bolted through the house straight to the back garden, and their excitement became wonder in an instant. The back garden seemed to be less of a garden and more of a forest to the boys. It seemed to stretch on into infinity and perhaps even beyond that. The main feature of the garden was a grand oak tree with willowy limbs and leaves that would turn to gold and eventually shed come winter. Mr. Butterworth caught up with the boys and gently placed his hands on their shoulders. He asked his sons what they thought of the hidden bungalow, to which they squeezed him tightly. Mr. Butterworth was sure to guide the boys to the bedrooms they had raced past to make sure they approved. Richard and Henry were delighted that they would no longer have to share a bunk bed and a bedroom. Here there would be room to stretch and tumble and play, and at the end of a long day they would sleep in big comfortable beds. They chose their bedrooms without a fuss and wandered back and forth through the large bungalow in awe. The property manager had given Mr. Butterworth and his sons an hour to view the house, and for most of it, the three sat on the floor of the master bedroom, dreaming of all the wonderful things they would do in the bungalow at the end of the street. Soon their hour was very nearly up. Mr. Butterworth was sure to lock the side gates and the kitchen door. Henry looked through the kitchen window at the forest while his brother turned the tap on and off, marveling that he had never seen water so crisp, so clear. And then it was time to say goodbye. For a short while, Henry and Richard fell asleep in the car as their father drove them back to the apartment. The next morning, Mr. Butterworth woke up early to speak to the property manager. He crept down the hallway into the kitchen, careful not to wake his sleeping children. The conversation began with three life changing words. We'll take it. And just like that, the bungalow with a forest for a back garden was theirs. The Butterworths had only lived in the bungalow for a few months, but it seemed like forever. It seemed like there had never been an apartment before this, with its thin hallways, its tiny kitchen, and those rainy days with nowhere to play. Mr. Butterworth spent his evenings and weekends in the forest with his boys. He would watch carefully as they played. For instance, one of the boys might look for somewhere to sit by the next weekend, Mr. Butterworth would have designed and crafted a bench as for the swing. After practicing jumps and skips and hops and cartwheels, the boys would lie under the great oak and gaze at the gaps in its canopy. Sometimes they would forget that their father was by the kitchen door, sitting on the bench with a mug of tea in his palms. Richard would turn to his twin and ask him where he wanted to go. Today, Henry would most often describe a place like those in their bedtime stories. Giant land or the largest sweet shop in all the lands. The boys would then close their eyes, and in their minds they went away, far away, only to arrive back home just in time for dinner. From the bench, Mr. Butterworth would watch his two boys stretched out under the great oak tree, their hands on their bellies, imagining a world beyond their forest. One day, Mr. Butterworth was shopping for groceries. On his way to the supermarket checkout. He spotted a green and brown box near the storage area. He parked his trolley and peered closer. Just then, a young worker came along with a large trolley, ready to take the box to the back of the store. Mr. Butterworth inquired about the item, and it turned out to be a faulty swing set the shop could not see. Sell on the box, it read. Swing someplace magical. Mr. Butterworth said he would purchase the swing set for a quarter of the price. The surprised worker replied that he could have it for free, but it was quite broken. Mr. Butterworth smiled and explained he only needed the swing seats. A few weeks later, the swing was finished. Thick dark ropes hung from the branch of the oak tree attached to to the two red seats from the swing set. Both seats were perfectly positioned just right for the boys. Richard and Henry sat on the swings, beaming at their father. After patting his boys on the head, Mr. Butterworth disappeared into the bungalow. It was about time to start dinner. Henry and Richard pushed their feet on the grass and began to swing. When one of the boys noticed that the other was swinging. Swinging higher, he tried to catch up. All they could hear was the passing wind and the leaves rustling in the canopy. Whoosh. Back and forth they went, kicking their legs up to the sky. Then Richard said he had an idea and the boy slowed to a halt. Richard asked his brother where he wanted to go. After a moment or two, Henry said that he wanted to visit the witch who lived on the top of the hill in the storybook. He wanted to see what potion she was making today. To make it work, said Richard, they would have to swing with their eyes closed. The two boys kicked their feet off the ground and swung back and forth. Maybe we swung a little too high, henry said to his brother. Richard laughed and opened his eyes. A silence fell over the two boys. They blinked several times just to make sure their eyes were the forest was no longer except for the great oak tree the swing was attached to. Around the boys was a field of green grass every which way and in the near distance a small hill. At the top was a crooked looking house that blew smoke into the sky in perfect expanding rings. The home was crooked in a charming kind of way. It was entirely wooden and had a cobblestone path leading from the base of the hill to the door. As the brothers were born minutes apart, they could often communicate without using any words at all. Smiling, they both turned to face the great oak and its red swings. There was a moment of thought between them that they had indeed swung too high. Richard held onto his brother's shoulder and started chuckling. His laugh was infectious and Henry too began to laugh until they heard a distant voice. The boys turned around to see a girl waving a handkerchief at the top of the hill. She smiled widely and gestured for the boys to come up the path. Richard turned to the tree and told it not to go anywhere. To his surprise, the trunk of the tree twisted slightly and the branches shook their leaves gently. Henry had to pull his brother away from the tree in between chuckles. The cobblestone path was rather steep, but soon the brothers made it to the top where the girl met them. She tucked her handkerchief into her apron and shook the boy's hands. Her name was Elfie. Elfie reassured the boys that she would explain everything, but before she could finish her sentence, there was a clattering sound and she rushed into the house. Surprised, the two boys followed Elfie inside the crooked house. The inside was far larger than the outside. It seemed to stretch this way and that, spanning in all directions. Richard looked at the doorway behind him and realised it was actually a portal. As there was more house behind the door, Elfie stood on a footstool and tried to grab the source of the clattering. It was Mr. Patty, the very noisy black cat. He had fallen asleep at the back of one of the shelves and Elfie, none the wiser, had stacked her clean dishes in front of him. Mr. Patty meowed in protest, somehow in love with his new sleeping spot. But Elfie wasn't having it. She muttered a few words and looked at her hand. A small tower of cat treats appeared in her palm, which enticed Mr. Patty away from the very extreme expensive china. Henry and Richard looked around. There were stacks of cauldrons, a mug full of wands, and a large brown rug near the entrance. Venturing further inside, Henry noticed a blackboard over the sink. There were words written in chalk that read Elfie's chores. Do the dishes without magic. Put labels on the potion bottles. Feed Mr. Patty. Henry smiled. He had a list of chores on the fridge at home too. After getting her cat down on the floor, Elfie told Richard that Mr. Patty was rather friendly. Sure enough, Mr. Patty rubbed against Richard's leg. Richard bent down and began to stroke under the cat's chin. Mr. Patty purred and said thank you before walking away. Elfie laughed, explaining that Mr. Patty only talked to people he liked. Henry asked Elfie how they had ended up in their storybook. They weren't in the book, said Elfie. The magic swing was simply a portal that could take them wherever they were both thinking of. Richard looked at his brother and reminded him he had a question for Elfie. Henry nodded. He asked her what potion she was making today. Elfie walked into the kitchen where in the corner a large cauldron was bubbly. She asked the two boys to wash their hands in the sink and to hand her an assortment of ingredients, some orange, some white, some red. Richard approached the stove, unsure of what potion was being made. Henry said he was sure it was a potion of healing. Elfie nodded. Better, she said. Its a meat stew. The biscuits are on the stove. Richard was pleasantly surprised. Food was the the best healing potion of all. While the three children ate at the kitchen table, Elfie explained that she was not allowed to mix potions without her parents present, as she was still an apprentice witch. Her father and mother were were two of the most powerful magic practitioners in all the lands but were away on their anniversary. After three pots of stew and many broken biscuits, the children chatted over mugs of hot chocolate. Elfie explained to the boys that all magic is belief. The brothers love and their vivid imaginations had sent them to her land. Elfie told them to enjoy their time away. All they needed to do to get back home was imagine it clearly and swing high. The children compared notes, sharing the details of their respective worlds. Paved roads versus cobblestone paths and taxis and cars versus portals. On and on it went until there was nothing left to compare and their mugs of hot chocolate were entirely empty. Elfie told the boys that they simply had to visit her village's sweet shop. Richard and Henry nodded, filled with with glee. Then Elfie told them that she had finished first in her class for teleportation studies. The boys looked at her blankly and Elfie giggled. Teleportation, she said, was going from one place to the next without having to walk, or whatever they did in England. Just as they were getting ready to leave, Richard asked for a token. He said that whenever he went somewhere with his brother, they always took something back home with them, like the seashells on Brighton Beach. Elfie asked what Brighton was and then cocked her head to the side. She was deep in thought. Aha. She said finally. That's it. Elfie walked over to the old desk. She pulled out the big drawer on its side and beamed with pure joy when she spotted what she was looking for. Elfie asked the boys to close their eyes and open their palms. They did too, just that, and did not open their eyes until instructed to do so. Now, Elfie said, in the middle of their palms were two tiny wands. Elfie explained that the tiny wands were given to toddlers to give all the witches and wizards and in the land a special introduction to magic. Henry and Richard gave Elfie a hug. She said that they shouldn't waste another moment just in case Mr. Butterworth began to wonder where they had gotten to. So with a final hug, Richard and Henry held their wands tightly as Elfie waved her own wand over them. Once, twice, three times, a bloom of blue magic cascaded down through Elfie's wand and swirled around their bodies and before they vanished for good, the boys, perfectly mannered, smiled and said thank you. When they opened their eyes, they were standing under something that looked very much like a bus shelter. Henry straightened his favourite jumper, slightly confused, Richard looked up at the electronic board above the the shelter. The board read Teleporting to pyjama land in 30 seconds. Nearby was a cobblestone paved entrance and an immaculate glass front to a very unusual building. On the top of the front door was a sign that the boys read in unison, the largest sweet Shop in all the lands. In the top right hand corner of the sign were two small letters. Henry squinted and read the letters slowly. Tm not knowing exactly what that meant, the boys walked through the automatic glass doors and approached the front desk, which was a little bit taller than they Were. It was Henry who cleared his throat loudly. Ahem. The woman behind the desk, who had a pointed hat and was holding a newspaper in her frail fingers, cleared her throat in return. Richard tried next. He cleared his voice in a manner slightly louder than his brother. The woman dropped her newspaper on the desk and laughed, a laugh so infectious the two boys could not help but laugh too. Wiping happy tears from her eyes, the woman leaned over the desk and said that the Butterworths did not disappoint. Richard flopped his arm over the top of the counter and said that the pleasure was all his. Henry did the same and said it was a pleasure for him, too. The witch's name was Bertha, and it was rumoured in the land with magic that Bertha knew everything. If a child on the other side of the land so much as sneezed, Bertha hopped in the teleportation shelter and in an instant she was there. Bertha was a friendly face around the village. It was a running joke that her shop seemed to run itself, as she was rarely, if ever, behind the sweep sweet shop's counter. Bertha was everyone's auntie and mother and sister and confidant and, it seemed, everyone's friend. She was like a room full of laughter. Bertha reached over the counter and gently shook Henry and Richard's hands. She gave their palms a warm, gentle squeeze. When she let go, there were two multicolored gumdrops in each hand. Eagerly, the boys placed the sweets on their tongues and chewed slowly. Richard's favourite dessert was apple crumble, and Henry's favourite was rhubarb crumble. As they continued to chew, the boys realised they were tasting their favourite desserts. Bertha smiled and said she was working on a brother son, sweet of sorts, which would taste like single cream, vanilla ice cream, or custard. Bertha had a few things to attend to, but she would give the boys a tour of the shop. Henry opened his mouth to tell Bertha, but she already knew they had one more stop in mind before they returned home. All of the sweets were contained in individual jars with sweets of the same kind. At the base of the jars was something that looked like a spout etched with the words try me. Henry realized that all the jars were lined up by the entrance of the shop, were free to sample. There were sweets galore, gumdrops organized by sweet drops and sour drops and fruit drops and food drops. Sweets for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Henry and Richard wandered back and forth, spoilt for choice. If they looked at a single jar for long enough, they noticed that a phrase would appear in A mist and then disappear. Some said, are you hungry? Others said, so sweet or a pocket sized lunch. Bertha was rummaging around in the back of the shop. She hollowed to the boys to ask the jars what they should try first. Henry stepped back so that the entire shop wall was visible and asked the jars in a clear voice, which gumdrop he should try first. At once a paper bag floated off the rack next to the sweets. It opened itself and hovered beneath one of the jar's sprouts. The sprout twisted itself open and two sweets fell out before the spout closed itself tight. Richard decided he wanted to enjoy his gumdrop at the same time as his brother. So he stood beside Henry and asked the jars the same question. Just as before, two sweets were dispensed condensed from one of the spouts. Richard and Henry plucked the bag of sweets from the air and sat on one of the shop benches. The gumdrops were dissolvable. After a fair amount of chewing, the sweets disintegrated in Henry and Richard's mouths and as they melted, the boys sat with the feeling. The gumdrops they had sampled were called Bertha's Slice of Happiness. The sweets were imbued with the lightest magic and were able to induce a feeling as well as deliver the most delicious sweets flavour. Henry felt as though he were lying on the red and white picnic blanket in the park with his father and brother on a warm summer's day. Richard, on the other hand, could feel a heavy blanket over his body and hear the sound of his father reading a bedtime story in his deep gentle voice. It was a Butterworth tradition. Every night, since the boys were babies, Mr. Butterworth would lay one on his left and one on his right while he settled in the middle of his bed. Before he opened the storybook, Mr. Butterworth would make sure his babies were slightly propped up on a soft pillow and then he would read. Richard and Henry grew from babies to boys evening by evening. As surely as the twins grew, so did their library. Though their father preferred science and history books, Henry and Richard had a soft spot for fiction. So every evening at 7:30, Mr. Butterworth and his sons curled up on the bed in the primary bedroom and became lost in a story of the twins choice. Without fail, before Mr. Butterworth could finish the bedtime story, Henry and Richard fell fast asleep. Mr. Butterworth would then close the book and scoop up his sons, gently resting their heads in the crook of his neck. He would put both the boys in their beds, always sure to cover them up with their duvets and blankets. And before Mr. Butterworth snuggled into his own bed, he would switch on the lamp in the hallway. The gumdrops were long dissolved. Bertha led Richard and Henry to different parts of the very large sweet shop. There was much to see. Chewy sweets and toffee and fudge and licorice. And it was all too wonderful. As Henry and Richard walked down the spiral staircase with the milk chocolate fountain in its centre, Bertha gave them an open invitation. They couldn't possibly see everything in one day, so she looked forward to seeing the boys in the future. Bertha conjured two gift bags full of sweets and smiled. Looking out the window, she told Richard and Henry to hurry because otherwise they would miss the next teleportation. Richard grabbed his Brother's hand and 3, 2, 1. The teleportation portal took them to the Land of Pajamas. They arrived in the centre of Pyjama Land's capital, Sleepy Town. It was a quiet place. No passing cars, no noisy factories, only gentle music that played unobtrusively. It was coming from somewhere, but where exactly? The Butterworths wouldn't have been able to tell you. Beneath the town sign, there was another sign that politely asked visitors to stow their shoes in the infinite cloakroom. Pyjama Land didn't have paved roads or paths. Instead, the roads and paths were made entirely of cushy material, like a memory foam mattress. The few people on the overlapping mattresses were, in the comfiest way, pyjamas. Some children walked with fluffy toy teddies and unicorns in their hands. And the stores were bedtime themed mattress and bed shops, tea shops, milk and cookie shops, and so on. Feeling slightly parched, Henry approached something that looked like a drink dispenser from afar. As he came closer, he realised that the drinks came with a set of pyjamas as well. Delighted, Henry simply pressed a button and out came two sets of pyjamas, perfectly sized for the boys, along with two cartons of milk with straws attached. Henry and Richard went for a slow wander around. Much in Sleepy Town was different from home. Instead of benches, there were beds. Street lamps were night lights and grass was pillow stuffing. As Henry and Richard walked, they felt themselves becoming more and more tired until they soon arrived back at the teleportation shelter. In an instant, the boys were teleported back to the foot of the path to Elfie's crooked house. The sky was darkening and it was time to go home. Henry and Richard placed their bags and pyjamas into a hole in the great oak. Then they did, just as Elfie said, think of home and swing high. They closed their eyes and swung back and forth as high as they could. The cool breeze rushed by their ears, and it seemed they were home. The lights in the bungalow were on. Henry noticed the silhouette of his father's body as he moved behind the blinds in the kitchen window. Richard and Henry walked over to the hole in the tree. They pressed their hands into the grooves of the tree trunk and whispered, thank you. Just as before, the great oak tree twisted right, then left, and shook its branches as if to say, you're very welcome. And moments later, Mr. Butterworth called out that it was time for dinner. He had tried something entirely new. It was something he had heard about in his son's storybooks. Meat stew with fluffy butter biscuits. Henry and Richard were delighted. The family ate their fill, dipping biscuit after biscuit into their bowls of stew until the pot was empty and the dishes were washed and placed on the drying rack. The dessert was apple and rhubarb crumble with single cream. Seeing how sleepy the boys were, Mr. Butterworth said it was time for a bath and bed. Richard and Henry used the bathroom in turns and changed into their pyjamas when they were done. Soon the Butterworths found themselves in the same place they always were, at St. 7:30 in Mr. Butterworth's large bed. This time it was Mr. Butterworth who fell asleep first. Henry peeked over his father's chest and looked at Richard. And without very much thought at all, the boys lifted a blanket over their father and walked to the lamp in the hallway. Richard turned on the lamp and hugged his brother. He asked him where he wanted to go to sleep. Hate, henry replied. And so they walked in opposite directions down the hallway and climbed into their beds. They dreamt about all the different worlds they would visit, all the journeys from the magic swing in the forest, which happened to be in their back garden.