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Let the bed carry your weight. You do not need to force sleep. For now, your only task is to rest. Let your eyes close if that feels comfortable, and allow the room to become less important. Notice the steady brown noise beneath my voice. Its even texture gives the mind something simple and predictable to meet. Begin with an easy breath through the nose, if comfortable. Let it leave slowly, without pushing. Again, breathe in gently. Breathe out a little longer. A softer, longer exhale can signal the body that this moment is safe enough for settling. Keep the rhythm natural. No counting is required. Just let each out-breath loosen the day by one small degree. Bring attention to your forehead. Smooth the tiny muscles around the eyes. Let the tongue rest, and leave a little space between the teeth. Unhook the shoulders from the ears. Feel both arms becoming pleasantly heavy. Notice the hands. Nothing to hold. Nothing to finish. Let the chest move on its own. Soften the belly. Allow the mattress to support the hips, the thighs, the calves, and the heels. Progressive muscle release helps reduce the physical effort that can keep us alert. You are not trying to make anything happen. You are simply giving tension fewer places to stay. If a thought arrives, let it be ordinary. A plan, a memory, a loose sentence. Label it softly as thinking, then return to one physical detail: the warmth near your feet, the cool air at your nose, or the weight of the blanket. This gentle shift guides attention away from problem-solving and back toward rest. Now picture a quiet series of unrelated objects. An apple on a wooden table. A blue mitten. A small boat tied at shore. Do not build a story. Let each image appear briefly, then fade. A paper lantern. A smooth stone. A folded towel. Random, neutral images can make the mind less interested in following one busy line of thought. If an image wakes you up, leave it and choose something dull and familiar. There is nowhere else to get to. Sleep may come soon, or rest may continue quietly. Both are allowed. Releasing the demand to fall asleep can reduce the strain of trying. Let the clock stay outside this moment. You do not need to measure how well you are doing. Return once more to the breath. Gentle in. Easy out. Feel the body spread into the surface beneath you. The jaw is loose. The shoulders are low. The hands are empty. The legs are supported. Imagine the edges of the room growing softer, as though night were turning down the brightness one shade at a time. My voice can drift farther away. The steady sound can remain, smooth and uneventful. Nothing needs your response now. Let the next breath happen by itself. And the next. Each one quiet, familiar, and unforced. You can rest here, held by the bed, while thoughts thin out and the body follows its own timing.