Drift into a deep, peaceful sleep while imagining yourself floating safely in a warm, gentle ocean.

English

It's time to rest, little one.
Sleep Little Fish is a gentle underwater story where your child will meet a little fish searching for the softest, stillest place to rest. As the story flows, it naturally weaves in Yoga Nidra. Guiding your child through gentle body awareness and deep relaxation, drifting them toward peaceful sleep without effort or resistance.
This practice is part of the Nidra Mind children's collection — bedtime stories rooted in the science of sleep and the ancient wisdom of Yoga Nidra, created to help children wind down, feel safe and sleep deeply.
No prior experience is needed. Simply settle your child somewhere comfortable, press play, and let the story do the rest.
This practice is ideal for:
- Children aged 3–8 at bedtime or rest time
- Children who struggle to wind down or experience bedtime anxiety
- Parents and caregivers looking for a gentle, screen-free bedtime ritual
- Early years educators and childminders

A Bedtime Yoga Nidra Story For Children | Sleep Little Fish

the sleepy little fish. Close your eyes, little one. That's it. Let them fall closed like petals at the end of a long summer day. Let everything go soft. Take a slow breath in through your nose. and breathe out gently. like the smallest, most peaceful sigh in the world. Okay, breathe in. and breathe out. Now I want you to imagine something wonderful. Imagine that you are not lying in your bed at all. Imagine that you are floating. Sorry. very gently. in the warmest, most beautiful sea you have ever seen. The water is the colour of a summer sky just before noon. deep glowing blue. with little ribbons of golden light dancing all the way down from the surface. The water holds you perfectly. You don't have to do anything at all. You just float. And in this warm glowing sea, there lives a little fish. She's not a very big fish. She is, in fact, quite a small fish. small enough to curl up in the palm of your hand. but she is the most beautiful fish you have ever seen. Her scales catch the light like tiny mirrors, each one a different shade. silver and lilac, and the softest, palest gold. When she swims, she trails a shimmer behind her, like a thread of moonlight through the water. Her name is Pearl. and tonight. Pearl is very, very sleepy. Pearl had been swimming all day long. in the morning. She had darted through a forest of tall green seagrass that swayed in the current like a meadow in the wind. She had weaved in and out of stems, faster and faster, until she was dizzy and laughing in a way that fish laugh, which is kind of shimmering, the way her whole body shook with joy. In the afternoon, she had explored a garden of corals. pink and orange and deep red. like a city made of flowers. She had swum through archways and round towers, between waving sea anemones, who tickled her sides as she passed and made her wiggle. She had made friends with a stripy little clownfish who showed her a secret tunnel through the reefs. She had raised a shawl of silverfish who flashed past her like a single magnificent creature. She had found a tiny crab who was trying very hard to carry a shell twice its size, and she had wished him well and watched him go. She had laughed again. It had been a very full, very wonderful day. But now the sea was changing. The golden light from above was fading slowly. turning from bright moon blue to something softer. A deep, dreamy violet, like the inside of a mussel shell. The current had grown slower and quieter. Even the coral seemed to be settling, the colours deepening and softening as the water cooled just a little. The ocean itself was going to sleep and Pearl knew it was time for her to find her bed. Pearl swam slowly now, not because she had to, but because Slow felt wonderful. She let the current carry her gently, drifting more than swimming, her fins barely moving, her tail swaying in the laziest, most contented way. And as she swims, I want you to notice your own body. Feel your feet. Let them be completely still, completely soft, like two little fish resting on the sandy bottom of the sea. Let them be heavy. Let them rest. There is nothing they need to do. Now feel your legs. The water holds them perfectly. they can relax completely, every muscle, every bone. Melting just a little into the warmth around you. your tummy rises and falls with your breath. soft as the tide. Or... and how. Or... Let it be gentle. Let it be easy. your shoulders drop down further than you thought they could. Your arms rest quietly by your sides, heavy and still. your hands open just a little, like small flowers at the end of the day. Your face is smooth and quiet now. Your eyes are soft. Your cheeks are soft. Your lips are soft. Every part of you is resting. Pearl drifted on, down through the violet water she swam, past a sleeping starfish who had spread herself across a rock like she was trying to hug it. a seahorse who had wrapped his tail around a piece of coral and was swaying slowly, eyes closed, dreaming seahorse dreams. the giant clam who had drawn its shell almost shut, leaving just the thinnest line of soft purple light at its rim. Everything was settling. Everything was resting. And then Pearl found it. She had been here before. She always came here at the end of a long day. But it never stopped being the most wonderful thing she had ever seen. It was a cave. Not a dark cave. Not a frightening cave. but the softest, most beautiful cave in all the ocean. Its walls were covered in pink coral that glowed gently in the dark. casting a warm, rosy light across everything inside it. The entrance was framed by two tall sea fans, their lacy branches swaying so gently that you might almost miss them moving. and on the floor of the cave, in the very centre, was the most perfect bed of seagrass Pearl had ever seen. as soft as velvet. It was the exact right size. It smelled of clean water and salt, and something sweet that Pearl could never quite name, but loved with her whole heart. It was hers. Pearl swam to the entrance of her cave and pools. She looked back once, at the ocean stretching her way behind her. Vast and dark, and full of sleeping creatures, all of them resting, all of them safe, all of them held by the same warm water that had held them all their lives. She felt a great wave of something move through her chest. quite happiness, not quite peace. something bigger than both and quieter. something that had no name in fish language or in any other language, but that every creature in the sea understood. the feeling of being exactly where you are supposed to be. Then Pearl swam into her cage. She circled the seagrass bed once. The way she always did. because cycling made it feel even more like home. And then she curled up in the center of it. her tail tucking underneath her body. fins folding softly against her sides, her scales dimming from the daylight shimmer to a quiet resting glow. And now, little one, you can do the same. Let your body curl up just like the way Pearl curls. Soft and small and perfectly comfortable. Let the warmth of your bed hold you the way the seagrass holds pearls. There is nothing else to do now. nowhere else to be. Nothing to remember. Nothing to plan. such as this one. Just this softness. just this quiet. The ocean is around you, humming its oldest, softest lullaby. You can hear it if you listen. Not with your ears, but something deeper. a sound like breathing, a sound like the whole world is settling into sleep. The cave glowed in gentle pink. the sea fan swayed. Outside, a tiny crab tiptoed past on his way to his own bed, his small feet making no sound at all on the sand. and pearl sledge. In her dream, Pearl swam through light. Not the ordinary light of day, but something more, a warm golden radiance that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. as though the water itself were lit from within. She swam without effort, without any direction. simply moving because moving felt beautiful. Her body tracing long, slow curves through the glowing water. Other fish swam with her. All the ones she'd met that day and some she'd never seen before. Fish with fins like coloured silk. Fish whose scales shone like polished copper. Fish so small and so bright they looked like living sparks. They swam together in a great slow wheel, turning and turning in the golden water, and it was the most friendly and most contented and peaceful thing that Pearl had ever known. No one was in a hurry. No one was going anywhere in particular. They will simply be. together. in the warmth of the light. and you, little one. you are swimming with them. You are part of this slow golden circle. Feel how light your body is. Feel how warm. Feel healthy. There is nothing to do here, nothing to be, except exactly what you already are. Let your breathing slow just a little more. in the air. How? Oh... And now... golden water carry you. What does a dream hold you? You're perfectly, completely safe. Pearl dreamed on. The cave glowed softly around her sleeping body. the sea fan swayed in the deep slow current. the ocean breeze. and somewhere above, on the surface of the sea. the stars were coming out. one by one. each one casting its own thin silver thread of light. all the way down through the water. all the way down to where Pearl slept. weaving a net of starlight around her. Gentle as a whisper. soft as a wheel. She was health. She was love. she was home. Let yourself rest now, just like Pearl. whole ocean is sleeping. The stars are keeping watch. Your bed is warm and soft. perfectly loose. Breathe in slowly. and breathe out. When you wake up tomorrow, you will feel as bright and as shimmery as pearl on a sunny morning. for all the adventures the new day will bring. Good for now. Sleep little one.