A (4:44)

So tonight, a sleepy summer afternoon in Maine. I had the great luck to live in Portland, Maine for eight years. It's a lovely place, a town of just 65,000 people. When I was there, with the entire state of Maine only having just over a million. And Maine is an interesting place. It has such a strong relationship to the sea that it sometimes feels more like an island than a part of the continent. And its coastline is so long and craggy and convoluted that what is only 230 miles as the crow flies. If you stretched it out, it would stretch out to more than 3,000 miles. That's longer than the coast of California. That's like practically the whole country. That's crazy. So I was in Maine recently and I remembered the very special safe and lazy feelings I get when I spend an afternoon walking around Portland, taking in the sea and the air and enjoying the delights of Casco Bay. So we're going to go there tonight. Get yourself into a safe and comfortable position and let's begin just Allow your eyes to close easily and gently. It's funny, when you allow your eyes to close, it's like your whole brain starts to shut down. You don't have to stay on alert anymore, or see things, or figure things out. It's time to let go. And your body is designed to let go. We all let go. So just bring your awareness now to your breathing. And just hang out with your breath for a moment. Your breath is always here. It's like kind of a metronome in your life. You can always come back to it. And when you place your focus on your breath, everything slows down, becomes simple. And simple can be good. Great. Now I'd like you to bring awareness up into your eyelids. And let your eyelids feel nice and heavy. Let that heaviness just take over your eyelids as they become loose and limp and relaxed. And as your eyelids are getting heavier, you accept the suggestion that your eyelids are in fact so heavy they won't open, that they can't open. And of course, between you and me, we know they can. But let's pretend that they can't. And as you pretend that your eyes must remain shut and wiggle your eyebrows, testing to make sure that they stay shut. Just wiggle your eyebrows. There you go. Well done. Some people have reached out to me and let me know they don't make it much past the eyebrow wiggling. So, bye bye, good night. Good. So this relaxation that you have around your eyes now let's imagine it's like this warm glow moving back into your head. Just allow that glow to take over every single cell of your brain. A warm, warm energy causing your head to sink into the pillow, your scalp letting go. And the muscles of your face can release. Now you don't have to express yourself anymore or communicate or put on a show. So the muscles of your face are relaxing completely as you imagine warm waves of relaxation lapping up against the beach of your mind. Feel those warm waves of relaxation lapping up against the beach of your mind as all mental tension disappears. Disappears. It's easy to let go as that warm glow of relaxation moves down into your neck, warming and softening the muscles of your neck like talented masseur. And now that warm glow is reaching down to your shoulders. Imagine the muscles of your shoulders just melting, melting into the bed. And as your shoulders are relaxing, you're letting go of your responsibilities, letting them fall to the floor. Because your only responsibility tonight is to yourself. And that feels so delicious, almost naughty. But this is how we're wired to go into this Place every night, free and alone. And to enjoy this release as a warm glow of relaxation moves down your arms. Feel your arms getting nice and heavy, heavy, heavy. As you go deeper and deeper. And all the sounds around you are taking you deeper and deeper. Bring your awareness now to any sounds going on around you from within your home or outside, and let them take you deeper. You're in charge of your inner experience. And now those sounds take you deeper into yourself, into relaxation. What a cool thing. Good. So let's imagine that warm glow now moving down from your neck into your chest, your whole chest feeling warm and relaxed and expanded. Ah, good. As that warm glow moves down deeper into your torso, deep into your belly. Just feel the heaviness of your pelvis sinking into the bed. And that warm, warm energy circulating through your whole torso. So relaxing, so comfortable, so easy, like you're melting as a warm glow moves down your legs. Your legs are feeling nice and heavy. And they too melt into the bed as the relaxation moves all the way down into your feet, into your toes. And now you're totally relaxed. Totally relaxed. Imagine that you're standing at the top of the Portland Observatory in Portland, Maine, looking out over this quaint New England town. It's a small observatory, only 86ft tall, and it was built in 1807 as a communications station for Portland Harbor. But from the top, you get a 360 degree view. First, there's the sky, a deeply saturated summer blue today, like the stuff of children's books. There are a few fluffy white clouds at the horizon, morphing lazily in the summer sun. And then there's the water, a deeper, grayer blue. In the distance between you and the ocean is a neighborhood, Munjoy Hill. It's a hill set on a large peninsula reaching out into Casco Bay, Portland's door to the Atlantic Ocean. Looking down over Munjoy Hill, you see the roofs of the houses in a lively collection of styles. Every street is lined with trees, all leafy and green on this summer day. And the trees are the homes to birds. So many birds celebrating this summer afternoon with you. You decide to walk down to the water. So you begin your descent from the observatory. There's a spiral staircase made of 20 wide planks of beautiful New England hardwood, spiraling down to the street level with every step you take. You go deeper and deeper as you descend from 20 to 19. 80, 70, 60, 50, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5. Going deeper and deeper. 4, 3, 2 and 1. They're standing on the street Now Congress street, which runs along the length of Portland. Like its spine, the sidewalk is made from red bricks that are so old they're uneven in places. Begin to walk along the sidewalk heading east down the hill to Casco Bay. You pass a three story wood framed house painted light blue. Although it was was built for a single family in 1867, it now contains three apartments and the top apartment has the highly coveted views of the water. You pass a brick house set back from the street with a yard shaded by a huge maple tree. You come to a corner store where locals buy everything from pizza to razors to whoopie pies. Whoopie pies are a main specialty made from two rounds of cake, usually chocolate sandwiching a creamy middle. First sold in 1925 in Lewiston, Maine, the Farmer's Almanac says the pie gets its name from Amish farmers living in northern Maine who upon finding them in their lunchboxes, cried whoopee. As you continue down the sidewalk, you hear the call of seagulls. The warm, humid summer air feels like a hug around your body. You pass a lilac bush and breathe in its amazing scent. Every house you pass has its own set of distinctive details, like a bay window or decorated gables or a raised stoop. Some have turrets and widow's walks. These homes were built by seafaring folk and this neighborhood dates back to 1632. You feel relaxed and comfortable. There's nothing like a slow stroll to the ocean on a summer day. There's nothing to think, nothing to do. With every step you're going deeper and deeper, feeling more and more more relaxed, held by the warmth of summer. You pass a tailor shop connected to a laundromat, both owned by the Donatellis, a family that came from Italy by Boat in 1965. The businesses are going strong, still run by the family's children and grandchildren. As you look inside the laundromat, it's warm, clean, and there's a dog lying on the tile floor waiting for its owner, who's putting his clothing in a dryer. It's quiet and peaceful as you continue to walk down Congress street, you pass a coffee shop, the Hilltop Coffee Shop, where the afternoon crowd has gathered for its pick me ups. You see people on their laptops sipping lattes and enjoying the company of strangers. As you walk, you go from small block to small blocks. This city, founded in the 17th century, was built on a smaller scale from another time, and it makes you feel safe and comfortable and neighborly. You're passed by a young couple pushing their baby in a stroller and you see them walk into a small store, the Rosemont Market. You follow them inside. It is small but full of delights. In the center of the store are fresh locally grown Maine vegetable on display, bright red peppers, gnarled carrots and tomatoes plucked straight from the vine. On the right is a refrigerator full of local kombuchas and organic juices. To the left are dry goods like handmade tortillas and exotic chocolates. You notice bags of popcorn popped by a religious family from Corinth, Maine, dusted with their secret blend of herbs and seasonings. This market is a thoughtful, peaceful place full of special products. It feels good to simply be in here. You buy a piece of chocolate and put it in your pocket. As you continue to walk down Munjoy Hill, you notice the view is opening up in front of you. A few blocks ago, you saw only a wedge of the silver blue ocean, but now you see a generous expanse. As you get closer and closer to the water, you're going deeper and deeper. You reach the end of Congress street, arriving at at a T junction where it intersects with another famous street, the Eastern Promenade. From here the view is vast, a full 180 degrees of water dotted with islands as far as the eye can see, all laid out beneath the blue main sky. You inhale a nice deep breath and take it all. In between you and the water is a large stretch of green grass that slopes elegantly down into the sea. This grassy area is a park affectionately known as as the Eastern Prom, and it was designed by the same Olmsted brothers who designed New York City's Central Park. But this is much, much smaller and simpler. So simple it doesn't seem designed at all. As it spills down the natural slope of Munjoy Hill, it has a simple path etched in it and trees planted strategically to offer optimal beauty and shape. Antique park benches dot the grass to help people catch the breathtaking views of the bay. This park is humble because Casco Bay is the star, with its constantly morphing clouds over its picturesque maritime painting. You notice couples lolling on blankets on the grass, dogs running around playing. A father throws a Frisbee to his daughter. As you continue to walk, following the path, it curves gracefully down to the water, ushering you, like a special guest, down to the Atlantic. You're looking out over the water now from the coastline. It's dramatic with its dark, angular water, worn rocks. The air is salty, and as a wave crashes against the rocks, it creates a cool spray that mists Your skin. The sun is shining and the seagulls are calling. You feel calm and centered as you take yourself deeper and deeper into relaxation. As you walk along the coastline, you come to a small stretch of beach. The sand is coarse and cool and as the water hits your feet, it feels cold and bracing and sends a bolt of energy up your spine. You are alive, your consciousness wide open. You take a nice deep breath of the salty air and it feels wonderful. Your path along the coast winds around the bottom of Munjoy Hill and brings you to the old port of Port. It's an active port, but humble, home to lobstermen and tourist boats. You watch a fishing boat come in as a woman in rubber waders throws a line to the dock. The seagulls are swarming, waiting for a careless discarding of fish. You arrive at the ferry terminal. It too is small and simple. You go to the window to purchase a ticket. Peaks island. You say one way. The ticket vendor, an older gentleman who's been working on the waterfront for 50 years, hands you your ticket and you put it in your pocket. The fairy is at the dock waiting for you. As you step onto the ferry, you go deeper and even deeper into relaxation. It feels so good to be on the water, to be floating. You take a seat on the upper deck, looking out onto the bay. You hear the sound of the horn giving one long blast and the fairy departs from the dock. You float out into the bay, the passengers sitting near you. Families, groups of teenagers, older couples. They're all talking or laughing or taking in the sights. Spirits are flying free out on the water. As the sun moves lower in the sky, you drink in the late afternoon warmth you can feel. Close your eyes now and float, savoring this moment, feeling the joy of this moment. You take the chocolate from your pocket, unwrap it and place it in your mouth. It begins to melt. Its sweetness seep drips over your tongue and into every nook and cranny of your mouth. It's delicious and soothing and is making you very happy. It feels good to be on the water. It feels good to be relaxed, like the chocolate. Life is sweet. Life is sweet. As you move out into the bay, you see a classic main lighthouse on your right, standing tall, ready to guide sailors through the fog. Ahead of you in the distance is Peaks Island. This is your destination. It's home to less than a thousand year round residents, so it's small and quiet and even slower than the rest of Portland. It's the perfect place to end your day. You arrive at the dock on Peaks island and disembark from the ferry. Nearby is a small restaurant, the general store and some kids on bikes waiting for their friends to ride by. You turn to your right and walk along a small road that hugs the coastline. After a while, the road becomes a path and winds along the water. Under a canopy of trees offering shade. You arrive at a house just set back from the path. It's a two story house on a lush green yard dotted with red and yellow flowers. It has a classic New England facade with weathered cedar shingles. The front porch has rocking chairs and a porch swing. Your friends emerge from the house excited to see you. They give you a drink and guide you inside. Coming through the front door, you step onto an old hardwood floor and enter a foyer filled with a nautical themed decor. This interior is pure cozy and inviting. You move into the dining room where there's a big round wooden table with a pair of candles twinkling in the center and the most delicious food spread out around them. Corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, a big fresh salad and lobster. There's even a three bean salad for the vegetarian and for dessert, whoopie pies. Of course. It's a summer feast. The dining room has windows on three sides and as you sit down, you see beyond the house to the trees and the water and the sun setting over the bay. It's a perfect evening. When everyone is seated, you raise your glasses in a toast. To friendship, you say, and everyone smiles, looking at you and one another. To friendship, they say, and everyone takes a sip. As you eat dinner, everyone talks and laughs and shares the dinner details of their lives. As you go deeper and deeper into relaxation, you feel connected. You feel the natural high that comes from being with other humans. It's time to go to bed now. Some of your friends leave for their own houses on the island. Others are staying here tonight in the guest bedrooms. You go upstairs to the second floor where one of the bedrooms is yours. It has a queen sized bed and a private balcony with an ocean view. A perfect half moon has risen and is twinkling on the water. As you turn out the light and get under the covers, the moonlight shines through the window. As you drift and float and dream it, it sa it.