Body Scan Sleep Meditation - Release Tension & Drift Into Deep Sleep

0:06 Tonight it is raining. Not a storm, just a long, steady, patient rain, the kind that settles in after dark and has no plans to stop before morning. You are lying in a small room at the very top of an old house, right under the roof, and the rain is falling on the slates a few feet above you. Before we begin, a few practical words. This is a body scan meditation for sleep. It is meant for bedtime, in a place where you can safely drift off and never for the car or for any task that asks you to stay alert. Each suggestion here is only an invitation.

1:05 If an instruction does not suit your body tonight, simply let it pass and rest in the sound of the rain instead. And if you are living with pain or a health condition, please be gentle with yourself and follow the advice of the people who care for you. There's nothing to achieve here. You do not need to relax correctly or feel any particular way. A body scan is simply a slow, kind visit to each part of you, one after another, the way you might walk through a quiet house at night, checking that each room is warm and turning off the lights. So let your eyes close whenever they are ready. Let your body settle into the bed.

2:19 Let the pillow hold the weight of your head. If you would like to shift into a more comfortable position, now is a good time. A small adjustment of the shoulders, a turn of the hips, whatever helps. And now, Simply listen. The rain on the roof above you is the closest sound, a soft, uneven patter on the slates. Some drops land heavily, some lightly. There's no pattern to follow and no rhythm to keep up with. It is just water arriving one drop at a time. A little further away, there is the sound of rain running in the gutter along the edge of the roof, a thin, continuous trickle gathering everything that falls and carrying it away. And further still, if you listen, There is the wide, soft hiss of rain

3:51 falling on everything else. On the garden, on the lane, on the fields beyond the last houses. A sound so large and so even that it is almost like silence. Near, middle and far. You do not need to hold all three at once. Let your attention drift between them, wherever it likes. Now bring a little of that attention to your breathing. Leave it exactly as it is and simply notice it. The air coming in, the small pores, the air going out. The body has been breathing all day without any help from you and it will go on breathing all night in the same way. Let us take three slower breaths together just to mark the beginning. A gentle breath in through the nose and out through the mouth, slow and long, like a sigh at the end of

5:43 a day. Again, a soft breath in and a long, unhurried breath out. One more, in and out, letting the shoulders drop a little as you do And now, let the breath find its own way again. It can look after itself from here. You might notice that the rain and the breath are both doing the same thing, arriving and leaving, arriving and leaving, Neither of them is in a hurry. Neither of them needs to be watched. Thoughts may come and go while we do this. That is completely normal. A mind does not switch off just because the lights are out. When you notice you have drifted into a thought, there is no need to scold yourself.

7:37 Simply notice the rain again and come back to whichever part of the body we are visiting. Every time you come back is part of the practice. You cannot get it wrong. The room around you is dark and warm. The ceiling slopes down close above the bed, following the line of the roof. There's a small skylight set into it, and the rain is running down the glass in thin, wandering streams, catching a faint grey light from somewhere outside.

8:38 The whole house below you is quiet. Every door is closed. Every task is finished or set aside until tomorrow. Nobody needs anything from you now. In a moment, We will begin at the very top of the head and move slowly down through the body, the way the rain moves down a roof, from the ridge to the gutter and from the gutter down to the ground. There is no need to prepare, just keep listening. Let your attention travel up to the highest point of you, the crown of the head. There is no task to perform there, only noticing what is present, perhaps the contact of the hair against the pillow, perhaps a faint warmth, or coolness, or tingling, perhaps nothing at all, which is fine too. Nothing is also something to notice, Imagine, if it helps, that the

10:32 rain is falling there first, very lightly, not wet, not cold, just a soft, gentle pattering on the crown of the head, the way it patters on the ridge of the roof above you. And as it falls, let the scalp soften, The scalp holds more tension than most people realize. It tightens when we concentrate, when we worry, when we try to hold everything in our heads at once. Let it loosen now, as if a hat you had been wearing all day had finally been taken off. Let the softening spread to the forehead. The forehead is where a long day often shows itself. A slight frown, a gathering between the eyebrows, a crease of effort. Notice whether any of that is there now. And if it is, there is no need to force it away. Just let the skin

12:01 of the forehead as if a warm hand had been laid across it. The rain is running down now, over the brow, the way water runs down the slope of the roof. Unhurried, following the easiest path. Let it soften the space between the eyebrows and the eyebrows themselves. Let them rest They do not need to lift or lower.

13:07 They have nothing to express. Now the eyes. The eyes work very hard during the day. Reading, watching, scanning screens and faces and roads. Even with the lids closed, they can keep moving, keep searching. Let them be still now. Let them sink back a little, deeper into their sockets, as though they were settling into soft cushions. Feel the weight of the eyelids, how gently they rest. There is nothing to look at in this room. The skylight is only grey water and darkness. Let the eyes be completely off-duty.

14:36 Let the softness spread out across the temples, those small hollows at the sides of the head. Notice if there is any pressure there, any tightness, and imagine the rain trickling over them and taking a little of it away. And now the cheeks. Let them be heavy and loose. The nose. Feel the cool air coming in through it and the slightly warmer air going out. And the jaw.

15:49 The jaw is one of the strongest muscles in the body and one of the hardest working. Many of us clench it without noticing, all day and even in our sleep. So let us give it some special care. Let the back teeth come apart just slightly. Let the tongue lie loose and heavy behind the lower teeth, not pressing against the teeth or the roof of the mouth. Let the lips touch lightly or part a little, whichever is more comfortable.

16:43 Feel the hinge of the jaw just in front of the ears. Let it loosen there. Let the whole jaw hang, heavy and relaxed, as if it were made of something soft.. The whole face now, the forehead, the eyes, the cheeks, the jaw. Imagine the rain washing gently down over all of it, the way it washes down the slates, rinsing the day away. The expressions you have worn for other people, the polite smile, the concentrating frown, the face you put on to look as if you were coping. None of them are needed now. Let the face become your own again. Blank, peaceful, private.

18:07 Now the ears. Notice how they are still listening to the rain without any effort. The near patter on the roof, the trickle in the gutter, the wide hiss beyond. Let the ears receive the sound without reaching for it. Let your attention move down to the back of the head where it rests on the pillow. Feel the weight of the skull held completely. You do not need to hold your head up. The pillow is doing that for you.

19:11 And now, The neck carries the head all day long, balancing it, turning it, tilting it. Feel the long muscles at the back of the neck and the softer ones at the front around the throat. Let them lengthen. Let them let go. Let the head roll very slightly if it wants to into its most comfortable resting place. The throat.

20:00 Let it be open and easy. If you have been swallowing words today, holding back things you wanted to say, Let the throat soften around all of that now. Nothing needs to be said tonight. Now the rain reaches the shoulders, the way it reaches the wide eaves of the roof. So many of us carry our shoulders a little too high, lifted towards the ears, braced as though something heavy were about to land on them. Notice where your shoulders are now and let them drop, not by pushing them down, just by letting go of the effort that holds them up.

21:20 Let them drop a little further. And a little further still, sinking into the mattress, spreading wide. Feel the tops of the shoulders, where bags and worries and other people's needs are often carried. Imagine the rain running over them and running off them, the way it runs off the edge of the roof. Whatever was resting there can slide away now, into the gutter, and be carried off into the dark.

22:36 Now the upper arms. Feel their weight lying beside the body or resting across it. Let the muscles there be loose and heavy. The elbows. Let them soften. The forearms, heavy and still. The wrists, let them be limp and easy with no grip in them at all. And now, the hands. The hands have done so much today. Held things, carried things, typed and lifted, and gestured and cleaned. Let them rest now, palms up or palms down, however they lie.

24:10 Notice the palms, the backs of the hands, each finger one after another, the thumbs, the fingertips, Perhaps you can feel a faint warmth there, or a gentle pulse, or a slight tingling. Whatever is there, simply notice it and let the hands be open with nothing to hold. Imagine the last of the rain running off the fingertips, drop by drop, into the dark below the bed. Everything the hands have been gripping today can fall away with it.

25:22 Bring your attention now to the chest. Feel it rising and falling with the breath. You do not need to make it move. Just notice the movement, the gentle swell and the gentle settling, like the slow rise and fall of the rain, heavier for a moment, then lighter again. Let the breastbone soften, let the ribs be loose so they can open and close easily, like the slats of a shutter in a breeze. And notice the area around the heart. Perhaps there is a feeling there of tightness or heaviness or warmth. It can stay just as it is, unexplained.

26:42 Just let your attention rest there, kindly for a moment, the way you would rest a hand on the shoulder of a friend. Now the upper back. Feel the shoulder blades against the mattress. Let them spread apart and sink down. Let the long muscles that run either side of the spine begin to unwind, one small section at a time, as though a tightly wound rope were being slowly let out.

27:51 The middle of the back. Let it melt into the bed. The lower back. This is a place that carries a great deal of strain for many people. If there is any ache or stiffness there, you do not need to fight it. Simply breathe towards it and let the area around it soften so that the discomfort has a little more room. Now the belly. Let the belly be soft.

28:56 There is nobody to hold it in for. Let it rise as you breathe in and fall as you breathe out, like the surface of a rain barrel, slowly filling and settling. Notice any knots or flutters there, any of the tight, nervous feelings that so often gather in the stomach. Let the rain wash over them too. You do not have to solve whatever caused them. Not tonight. Let your attention move down to the hips, the large, heavy bones of the pelvis. Feel them resting on the mattress, completely supported.

30:08 Let the muscles around the hips release so that the legs can fall open slightly or lie however they wish. The buttocks, let them be heavy and loose. Now the thighs, the largest muscles in the body. They have carried you everywhere today, upstairs and along streets and through doorways. Let them rest. Feel how heavy they are. Let the mattress take all of that weight. The knees, let them soften.

31:25 Let the backs of the knees be loose. The shins and the calves. Feel the long muscles at the back of the lower legs. Let them go slack as if they had finally finished a long walk home in the rain.. The ankles, let them be loose and easy. And now the feet. The heels resting on the bed, the arches, the tops of the feet, the soles which have pressed against the ground all day long, and each of the toes, one after another, from the biggest to the smallest. Imagine the rain arriving, at the very end of his journey here.

33:09 It has come down over the crown of the head, over the face and the neck and the shoulders, down the arms and off the fingertips, over the chest and the belly and the back, down through the hips and the legs, and now it runs off the soles of the feet and soaks gently down into the earth. Far below the house, where it is quiet and dark and still.

33:55 And whatever it was carrying, the tension of the day, the small tightnesses, The bracing and the holding has gone down with it into the ground. Rest here for a while. The whole body from head to toe, softer than it was. Now let your attention widen. so that it holds the whole body at once. Not one part after another, but all of it together. One long, soft shape, lying under the blankets, under the sloping ceiling, under the roof, under the rain. Notice how heavy the body has become, heavier than when we began, as if it had been slowly soaking up the quiet, the way the ground soaks up the rain. Feel all the places where the body touches the bed, the back of the head, the shoulder blades, the elbows and the hands, the hips, the backs of

36:17 the legs, the heels. Every one of those places is being held. Nowhere in your body is there any need for holding up. Let the bed take a little more of your weight. And a little more. Outside, the rain has been running along the gutter all this time and down the old iron drainpipe at the corner of the house and into a wooden barrel that stands below it by the garden wall. Picture that barrel for a moment. Dark, round and patient. All evening it has been filling. The water has risen slowly, quietly, inch by inch, and now it has reached the very brim. The surface trembles with every drop that falls into it. And now it overflows, not in a rush, Just a thin, easy spilling over the rim, all the way around, running down the sides

38:20 of the barrel and into the grass. Nobody needs to empty it. Nobody needs to rush out in the rain with a bucket The barrel simply holds what it can and lets the rest go. And that is exactly how it was made to work. Perhaps there is something in that for you. Tonight, you have been holding a great deal Perhaps you have been full to the brim for a long time. Not every drop has to be kept.

39:21 Whatever is too much for tonight can spill over and run away into the dark garden. It will. soak into the earth. The earth knows what to do with it. Let it spill. Now bring your attention back to the skylight above the bed. The glass is covered in raindrops. Each one lands, clings to the glass for a moment, and then, when it grows heavy enough, begins to slide, slowly at first, then a little faster, gathering other drops as it goes, until it reaches the bottom of the frame and is gone. Thoughts can be like that if you let them. A thought lands. It clings for a moment.

41:10 You notice it. And then, if you do not hold on to it, it grows heavy and begins to slide and slips away down the glass and out of sight. Try it now, if you like. When a thought arrives, a plan for tomorrow, a memory from today, a worry, a song, simply notice it landing on the glass. Notice it clinging there. And watch it slide away. Another drop lands.

42:29 Another thought. Notice it. Let it slide. There is no need to stop the thoughts from landing. The rain does not stop because the skylight is wet. The glass simply lets each drop come. and let each drop go. You can be like the glass, clear and still and letting everything pass and between the drops there are moments of clear glass, small spaces of nothing in particular. You do not need to make them longer, just notice them when they come. Rain is very good at finding small spaces.

44:15 It runs into every crack between the slates, every groove in the old stone, every little hollow in the path. Nothing is too small for it to reach. Let your attention be like that for a little while, searching gently, without hurry, for the small places where some tension might still be hiding. The tiny muscles around the eyes, the corners of the eyes, Let them unclench. The place where the jaw meets the ear. Perhaps it has crept tight again.

45:32 Let it loosen. The space between the shoulder blades, where a knot of effort often sits, unnoticed. Imagine the rain seeping in there, warm and softening it from the inside. The base of the thumbs where the hands grip. The soles of the feet where they might still be bracing, as if ready to stand. The muscles of the brow which sometimes lift again when a thought arrives. Wherever you find a little holding, there is no pushing required. Just let the attention rest there. like water settling into a hollow, and wait. Very often, a part of the body that is noticed kindly will let go of its own accord.

47:52 And if somewhere does not let go tonight, that is all right too. It can rest just as it is. Even a tight place can be held by the bed and covered by the blanket and listened to by the rain. Now let us return to the breath and to the heaviness. Each time you breathe out, let the body sink a fraction deeper into the bed, as if each breath out were a single raindrop landing in the barrel, and each one made you a little fuller with stillness. breathing out and sinking. breathing out and sinking a little more. The arms are heavy, so heavy that lifting them would take a great effort and there is no reason to lift them The legs are heavy, resting like logs in a quiet stream. The head is heavy on the pillow, the

50:24 eyelids heavy over the eyes. Even the breath feels heavy now, slow and deep and full, like the rain at its steadiest. In the room below this one, there's an old clock on the landing that has long since stopped. Nobody has wound it in years. Its hands point to some forgotten hour and stay there. In this house, tonight, there is no time to keep. Only the rain, falling as long as it falls, Notice how warm you are. The blankets hold the warmth of your body around you. The cold and the wet are all outside, on the other side of the slates. Inside, there is only this, warm and dry and heavy and safe. There is a particular kind of comfort in hearing rain while you are warm indoors.

52:31 Perhaps you knew it as a child. Lying in bed, listening to weather you did not have to go out into. The world outside busy with its wind and water and you tucked away with nothing to do but listen. Let yourself have that comfort now. The rain is easing slightly, still steady, still falling, but softer than before. The patter on the roof is gentler. The gutter runs more quietly.

53:58 In a little while, We will visit the body one more time, very lightly, from the feet up to the head. A second, softer scan for a softer rain. Until then, simply rest. heavy, warm, and held by the bed. This time, We begin at the feet. And this time, there is even less to do. I will only say the name of each part of the body and your attention can stay there for a few breaths while that part softens if it wants to. If you drift away in between, that is perfectly fine. The words will still be here.

55:27 like the rain. The soles of the feet. The toes The heels resting heavy. The ankles soft. The calves, loose and warm. The knees. The thighs, heavy, sinking. The hips, wide and settled. The lower back, soft against the bed. The belly, rising and falling, slow as the rain. The middle of the back. The ribs, loose and easy. The chest and the gentle space around the heart. The shoulder blades spreading and sinking. the shoulders, dropped and resting. The tops of the arms The elbows bent or straight. The forearms heavy. The wrists and the hands open with nothing to hold. Each of the fingers still. The neck, long and soft. The throat, open and quiet. The jaw loose, the teeth slightly apart. The tongue resting. The lips. The cheeks. Heavy.

1:03:03 The eyes. Deep and still beneath the lids. The forehead smooth and wide. The scalp loose. And the crown of the head where the rain began. The whole body now. Every part visited twice tonight and every part a little softer for it. Notice that there is very little left for you to do. The body is breathing on its own.

1:04:57 The rain is falling on its own. The night is passing on its own. All of it is happening without you having to arrange it. You have spent a great many days arranging things, keeping track, making sure. Tonight, you can let the rain keep track of the hours. It is very good at it. It has been doing it for a very long time, long before this house was built, and it will go on long after. The light in the skylight has gone from grey to the deepest blue, almost black. You can still hear the drops landing on it, softer now, further apart. Somewhere below, a shutter creaks once in the wind and then is still. The garden is soaked and silent. The lane is empty. Every window in the village is dark. Even the birds are asleep, tucked

1:07:14 deep in the hedges, heads under their wings, waiting out the rain. And you are here, at the top of the house, warm under the roof, with the whole wet night outside, and nothing at all you need to do about it. Soon I will start counting, very slowly, from 20 to 1. There's no need to keep up with the numbers. They are only there like raindrops, falling more and more slowly, and more and more softly, until they stop.

1:08:48 If you are already asleep, they will simply fall around you. 20.

1:08:55 19, heavier. 18.

1:09:54 17, the rain softer on the roof. Sixteen Fifteen Sinking a little deeper with each number, Thirteen, the body warm and still. Twelve.

1:11:36 Eleven.

1:11:37 Nothing to hold. Twelve. Ten.

1:12:15 Nine.

1:12:16 The drops sliding down the glass.

1:12:25 Eight.

1:12:56 Further and further away. Five, deep and soft and dark. Three. Letting go. Two. One. The rain goes on falling. the barrel by the wall still spilling over quietly into the grass. The drops on the skylight sliding down, one by one, into the dark. On the roof, in the gutter, on the dark fields far away, You do not need to listen anymore. The rain will keep the night for you Rest now. Sleep well. Thank you.