Got it! Hope you like it! [Edited - twice!]

[Editing]

That wasn't the right one! (See below.) So, I'll have to write the 'sleeping' story.

Okay,I got this Bedtime Story from a relaxation tape, by 'Joe someone', about 1980- something.

It did me a lot of good, and, since I knew it by heart, I gave the audio to a nurse who had been very badly hurt by a patient.

In constant pain, the nurse had not been able to sleep for fear of waking her husband and children. So, she paced the floor, all night, every night. I guess she slept when they were out of the house for the day.

About a week later, she told me that, with the tape, she had been able to sleep at night for the first time in a long, long time.

I didn't ask for the tape back, partly because she was facing a hospital procedure (one that she hated), and also a year away from her family, in a pain clinic.

The night before she was to have the procedure, she was in hospital, and after visiting hours, I crept into the hospital with a small homemade silly gift. The nurses let me sit with my friend for about 10 - 15 minutes, while her sleeping medication took effect.

That visit is a gem in my memory. If I hadn't come and distracted her, she might have lain there fretting about the unpleasant procedure to come in the morning, and, of course, the constant ache in her arm.

The gift? I went to a closer hospital and got their oldest gown. You know, the light green ones that flap in the breeze behind you.

Then washed, starched, and ironed it. Then, with a dark blue marker, I drew ruffles around the neck; a ruffled pocket with a daisy standing in it; XXX's and OOO's; a heart (where it should be); etc. On the back I wrote instructions for placing a patient in the gown; and a great big safety pin.

I decorated a paper bag with a red felt pen ribbon bow, folded that little gown inside, added a nice apple and some honey/sesame crisps...and instructed her not to open it until after tomorrow's procedure.

A few days later I got a lovely thank you card, with poetry. It had worked.

Anyway, picture this in your mind. Tinkling temple bells; a babbling brook; soft wind in the leaves of trees; maybe a gentle stroke of a drum, or the ocean waves on a bright summer afternoon.

You come over the crest of a hill and there, before you, is a rural valley. A tiny farm is nestled there, and green fields spread to the mountain behind.

A wooded path beckons... and you step into its shade, the ground soft beneath your feet. 100.

An earthy scent rises from mosses. 99.

Flickering leaves seem transparent and of every color in the sparkling sunlight. They brush your cheek. 98.

As you notice the babble and spray of the brook as it tumbles downward, an extra unwanted thought crosses your mind. 97.

You find a basket on your hip, and you put the thought into it, closing the lid, just for now. 96.

It doesn't really matter. 95.

A bird sings. Shy flowers unfold. 94. Something rustles in the fallen leaves.

Roots snake across your way, bending to your comfort. 93.

The breeze puffs a scent of hidden roses...perhaps from some far off garden. 92.

Tiny far off bells, too, and surf. Extra thoughts and concerns go gently into the basket, just for now. They don't really matter.

And so you make your way down this magical path...to a little meadow of tall sweet grass. 89.

There is a tall ornate urn. Into it you put all your worries...and you place the heavy lid on top...just for now. 83.

You see that the falling spray has become a smooth-flowing lazy stream. And, in the middle is a little island of soft grass. 80.

There isn't any hurry. You step lightly on each smooth stone, wetting your toes a little in the cool water. 72.

You lie down in the rich velvet grass, placing your basket somewhere beyond your head, just for now. 67.

Here, as the bells and fluttering and flowing become even softer and slower, you may be anything you wish...anything...

Just for now. 32. It doesn't really matter. You can be anything you want to be.

................

When I use it...I start at 20. By the time I get to 17, I'm, asl-e-e-p...


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//www.curezone.org/forums/fm.asp?i=341629#i

It says:

Once, when I was very unhappy and my life was a shambles, I had a curious experience.

I had been reading about the "inner child, parent, and adult"...

...The "child" with all the child's wants and needs...

...The "parent" with all the parent's concerns and admonishments...

...And the "adult" we are all becoming, who's job it is to comfort the child, and calm the parent.

I had been doing some work with the concept, recognizing which part of the inner person was predominating at different times, and exercising the "adult's" responsibilities. (Very effective for overcoming very antsy feelings, let me tell you.)

Anyway, one Thursday evening a man had promised to call me, and didn't.

I felt AWFUL. My stomach hurt, in a very familiar way. This would always be my fate, wouldn't it?

Eventually I fell asleep in my nice but empty bed, a foam mattress on the bedroom carpet.

When I woke up I remembered my grief, but I sat on the edge of my bed, my knees under my chin, and asked myself a question. "What am I feeling?" (Nothing, however, about 'why' I was feeling rotten.)

The answer came - "I feel disappointed."

Logically, followed..."What can I do about it?"

I could phone Beth to go for coffee with me. So I did.

As I stood to get dressed, I put my arms around myself, and stroked my upper arms while saying out loud, "There, there, little one. You'll be okay. I'll take care of you."

I had a little tear. Then, instantly, the pain in my stomach stopped. After a lifetime of feeling it, I've never had it again!

The point of writing this twenty-something year old story here, is that I did a bit of this exercise last night...with remarkable results.

Not long ago someone told me that a current rash was 'emotional' in origin, and that my mother's ancestors had suffered from the same 'emotion' for six generations.

Well, there's no blinking way I am going to find out what was bothering great-grandmothers!

So, I mulled over what to do about it for a few weeks.

Then I realized that the 'memory' was lodged in my cells and tissues. I didn't HAVE TO know anything about it in my head! (Though I found myself tempted to speculate. But steadfastly refused. Who knows what I might have created with my imagination?!!!)

As I lay me down to sleep I (you guessed it) put my arms around myself. Including all my ancestors, just in case, I said my 'there, there' piece, and invited them all to go toward the light...also just in case.

But, I didn't make a 'ceremony' of it. I didn't meditate or do anything to 'fix' the occasion in my memory. I was too tired. I did remember to kind of smile my excess brain energy down to somewhere around my navel, as I have been doing to put myself to sleep quickly.

A blog mentions that suggestion from Taoists.

The rash hardly itched at all today! I think it's healing! (I've been suffering for months.)

My goodness! If I can accomplish that with a half-hearted effort, imagine what we could do with 'ceremonies'!

Maybe I stumbled on a c-u-r-e...you know, that four-letter word we aren't supposed to say.

Gotta practice.

I'll let you know.

fledgling