Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - A Dreamy Day at the First Olympic Games
Episode Date: July 17, 2024Narrator: Thomas Jones 🇬🇧 Writer: Jo Steer ✍️ Sound design: flowing river, light breeze, birds 🌊🍃🐦 Includes mentions of: Food, Bodies of Water, Children, Cooking, Summer, Walkin...g, Time Travel, History, Gratitude, Religious Traditions, Architecture, Sports, Beverages, Wine. Welcome back, sleepyheads. Tonight, we'll visit Olympia, in the 8th century BCE, and learn all about this historic competition, as a spectator come to watch the very first Olympics. 😴 Watch, listen and comment on this episode on the Get Sleepy YouTube channel. And hit subscribe while you're there! Enjoy various playlists of our stories and meditations on our Slumber Studios Spotify profile. Support Us - Get Sleepy’s Premium Feed: https://getsleepy.com/support/. - Get Sleepy Merchandise: https://getsleepy.com/store. - Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/get-sleepy/id1487513861. Connect Stay up to date on all podcast news and even vote on upcoming episodes! - Website: https://getsleepy.com/. - Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/getsleepypod/. - Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/getsleepypod/. - Twitter: https://twitter.com/getsleepypod. Get Sleepy FAQs Have a query for us or need help with something? You might find your answer here: Get Sleepy FAQs About Get Sleepy Get Sleepy is the #1 story-telling podcast designed to help you get a great night’s rest. By combining sleep meditation with a relaxing bedtime story, each episode will guide you gently towards sleep. Get Sleepy Premium Get instant access to ad-free episodes, as well as the Thursday night bonus episode by subscribing to our premium feed. It's easy! Sign up in two taps! Get Sleepy Premium feed includes: Monday and Wednesday night episodes (with zero ads). The exclusive Thursday night bonus episode. Access to the entire back catalog (also ad-free). Extra-long episodes Exclusive sleep meditation episodes. Discounts on merchandise. We’ll love you forever. Get your 7-day free trial: https://getsleepy.com/support. Thank you so much for listening! Feedback? Let us know your thoughts! https://getsleepy.com/contact-us/. That’s all for now. Sweet dreams ❤️ 😴 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy. I'm Tom, and it's my honor to be your host. Thanks so much for listening.
Tonight's story was written by Joe and I'll be reading it for you.
Have you ever wondered what it might be like to visit ancient Greece at the time of the Olympics, or better still, to watch the inaugural
games in the gorgeous sanctuary where it all started. That's what we'll be doing
in tonight's sleepy story as we visit Olympia in the 8th century BCE. We'll learn all about this historic
competition as a spectator there to watch the very first Olympics. On
Tuesday next week for our Get Sleepy Premium supporters you'll be able to
hear this story stitched together with
our other Olympic themed episode from a couple of weeks back, the sleepy history
of the Summer Olympics. And speaking of Get Sleepy Premium, it is the very best
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Thank you so much my friends.
Before we get to tonight's story, let's take a few moments to unwind and prepare for sleep.
So move into a position that feels comfortable and relaxing.
Note the texture of the bed beneath you as you allow your eyes to close.
In a moment, we'll begin some diaphragmatic breathing and practice sending the breath deep into the belly. We'll breathe in to four, then hold for one, breathing out a little longer to the count of six. You might like to rest a hand on your
stomach to better connect with sensations in for 1, 2, 3, 4, hold and out through the mouth
and in 2 3 4 hold and out 2 3 4 5 6 last time breathing deep into the belly
hold and release. Take a moment now and tune into your body.
Notice where the breath has brought feelings of comfort.
Thank yourself for taking the time to do this.
It demonstrates your commitment to self-compassion and care. Now, follow my voice as we begin our story in 776 BCE.
We've traveled into the past nearly 3000 years to the Peloponnesian peninsula of the
Greek mainland.
This is where our story begins. You're sitting on a bench beside a golden pathway enjoying the warmth of summer sunshine on your face.
The gentle breeze blows through the trees behind you, a cluster of evergreens planted
on the grass. You can feel the air blowing through your outfit, a lightweight tunic like those from
ancient Greece.
The material flutters gently above your feet, which are dressed in sandals. The breeze flows in through the gaps between your toes.
The air carries a perfume that's woody and natural, one that calms the mind and seems to slow the senses. You can smell the leaves and the bark of the trees, and
the carpet of grass, sweet yet tangy. You sense a trace of salt water too, just as you can hear the hum of distant waves. Though you're 10 miles away
from the sandy coastline, where the Ionian Sea lapses against the shore.
Perhaps it's not the sea, but the nearby River Kladeios, named after the river god of Greek mythology.
It flows through Olympia on its western border, ten or so meters from your bench by the path.
In the heat of summer, it looks less like a river and more like a stream, low and narrow.
The shallow water makes the loveliest sounds.
It's like a babbling brook endlessly flowing.
You feel wonderfully calm as you sit here on the bench, basking in the sounds and the
scents all around you.
You drink in the morning, with each inhalation becoming more present,
yet more relaxed with each breath exhaled.
with each breath exhaled. The sky above you is watercolor blue, with tints of pink, orange, and lilac. A handful of clouds are pearly white, tinged golden yellow where they catch the sunlight. The path at your feet
is made of sand-colored stone, but it's gold and luminous in the morning sunshine. The grass beside it is the color of fresh limes. It glitters and
sparkles beneath a veil of sunlight. You've come to Olympia in ancient Greece, just 10 miles away from the country's southern coastline.
It's a charming town, small and unassuming, and one of the most important places across
all of Greece.
Also known as the Valley of the Gods, Olympia is home to myriad temples.
Perhaps you've already guessed this from its name, Olympia, similar to Mount Olympus, 600 miles north.
The latter is home to the twelve Olympians, the most important deities at the center of
Greek society. Each god and goddess has their own unique powers, and they're led by Zeus, god
of sky and thunder. Though Greece is divided into independent city-states, citizens are united in their devotion to the
gods.
Worshipping the Olympians is a daily ritual for individuals, families, governments, and
communities. Those looking to go the extra mile travel here as pilgrims to the Valley
of the Gods. They come to pray at the shrines and temples that are scattered about this this religious sanctuary. Olympia is what's known as Panhellenic, meaning that
it's open to all Greeks regardless of where they come from. On any given day, it
has a steady stream of visitors from various regions across the mainland and islands.
All things considered, it's the perfect location to hold a religious festival in honor of Zeus.
in honor of Zeus, a friendly contest between elite athletes competing in the name of their respective city-states. This is the event that laid the groundwork for what would become the modern Olympic Games.
for what would become the modern Olympic Games. Few contests in the modern world are better loved or more respected, with participating athletes from across six
continents. But today's festival is the first of its kind, held here at the Altis, in the heart of Olympia.
That's the name given to the sacred grove ahead of where you sit by the sunlit path. The Valley of the Gods is nestled beneath the mountain
on a lush green plain that's bursting with nature.
Mount Cronus soars up to the left of the path, behind your bench and opposite the river.
The peak is visible in the gaps between the pillars that flank the walkway.
Made of free-standing white marble, painted in bright colors, they shine like beacons and reach upwards
as if they are holding up the sky. The pillars add drama and create anticipation about what might lie ahead at the end of the path.
It's how many might imagine the entranceway
to the palace in which the gods and goddesses live on Mount Olympus.
It's a fitting choice for the Altus footway, which over the years will see countless parades.
The procession is key to any religious festival, though the one today will be unlike any other. Today, those involved will be sportsmen and
athletes, the finest and fastest that ancient Greece has to offer.
They've come to take part in the Panhellenic Games, to perform before the gods and all of Greece.
You can see them now approaching on the path. You can hear the pattering of their footsteps on stone. They
move at a pace that is leisurely and gentle, one matched to drumbeats of musicians alongside emotions alongside them. The crowd bring with them a unique atmosphere, a surreal blend
of calming excitement. It's the stillness one might feel in a religious place of worship or when staring out at an endless blue ocean.
But also, the joy and feeling of connection
experienced amongst a crowd at a concert or sports game.
concert or sports game. In fact, you're one of many spectators watching the athletes strut along the walkway. Most are men and children dressed in tunics and togas. They're seated on benches and stood beside the path.
Spectators awaken as competitors pass by, excitement flowing upwards like a wave along the benches.
They clap and cheer, shouting greetings to the athletes.
Some throw petals which dust the path in pink and white.
the path in pink and white. A boy to your right wanders into the procession, where he hands something over to a chestnut-haired man. You see that it's a hits a branch of emerald-colored laurel as the boy returns to his older sister.
The smiling athlete waves the branch in the air, much to the delight of the happy little
boy. Many do the same in front of him and behind, laurel leaves being the symbol of victory and triumph.
The athletes are dressed in traditional loincloths. These give the men the freedom to sprint. The material is white,
like the gown of the man who leads the procession. It is quite a contrast to the colorfully painted pillars. The man has an air of rank and importance,
a temple steward perhaps, his life devoted to Zeus.
He carries a chain with a pot at its bottom, an incense burner made of decorative gold.
Scented smoke pours out from star-shaped holes carved into the metal.
It forms an otherworldly mist around the man's robe that obscures his feet
and makes him look as if he's floating.
Then, the smoke flows backwards along the ground behind him,
forming a veil of cloud for the sportsman to walk on.
You feel as if you're watching something from a dream, even more so as the incense
wafts towards you and you inhale its sweet fragrance. You recognize the aroma of richest myrrh. earth of a woodland. There's frankincense too, similar but sweeter, with subtle notes of pine
and citrus. You bask in the sweet scents as the men walk by, just a few meters away from where you sit. Some wave
and smile to their audience along the pathway, like modern-day celebrities walking a red it. It's impossible not to feel a little awed by their presence. They are the finest athletes in
all of Greece. Muscular frames look chiseled from marble, like gods and heroes brought to life.
They remind you of a scene from the front of a vase, silhouetted figures on an orange background.
You feel as if you're watching a piece of moving artwork as the athletes pass by on
their way into the sanctuary.
The athletes are followed by spectators from the benches who enter the procession at the end of the line. You join behind the
boy with the laure and leaves tossed for the
athletes.
Sweet floral scents rise up from the walkway, seeming headier and more pungent with each passing footstep.
The scents blend beautifully with the fragrance of branches being waved in the air by spectators
as they walk. These aren't laurel leaves like those carried by the athletes. Their lance-shaped leaves
are those of olive branches instead. The olive tree is associated with the goddess Athena, daughter of Zeus and patron of Athens.
Branches are used to show humility before the godsllenic Games, during which time a sort of truce has
been agreed. Though wars may continue during the games, spectators and athletes are allowed to travel unmolested, even through warring city-states.
Athletes and visitors enjoy safe passage to the sanctuary from every corner of Greek civilization. Armies are banned from entering Olympia,
and legal disputes are temporarily prohibited. The truce explains why the atmosphere is so relaxed, not only amongst the athletes,
but the spectators as well. Spartans and Athenians walk side by side,
teasing one another about whose champion will win.
You can guess at where they're from by their accents, their distinctive hairstyles,
and the outfits they wear.
Some carry banners displaying the emblems of their cities. Others wear garments dyed
in the colors of their home. people in the crowd. From the white-winged horse,
the Pegasus of Corinth, to the lovely pink rose, the Flower of Rhodes.
Outfits have been dyed in every known color. You see reds and yellows, blues and purples.
You feel as if you're walking amongst a sea of flowers, more varied and vibrant than the
blossoms underfoot. Your surroundings in the altis are breathtakingly
scenic, as serene in mood as they're handsome in appearance.
You can't imagine a better setting for the gathering than on the natural terrace at the foot of Mount Cronus.
The Altus will be the site of the first Olympic Games and those that follow it every four years. This will continue until the 4th century CE,
by which time Greece will be in 393 CE, during the reign of
Theodosius. Once the Roman Emperor has converted to Christianity, he'll put an end to the ceremony and all other pagan rituals.
The games won't return until 1896 when they reappear in Athens in their modern form. Athletes will compete for the pride of their nations in what's
generally considered to be the world's leading sports contest. What we know as
the Olympics in the 21st century is an expanded version of the ancient games. It's rooted in the ceremonies,
the races, and rituals that begin today within the haven of the altis.
The ancient games themselves will transform over time between the 8th century BCE and the 4th century CE.
Events will be added and celebrations extended as the games become more popular with each passing century.
The Altus will grow alongside the games, with buildings added for both athletes athletes and spectators. There will be bathhouses, lodgings, and a gymnasium to
train in. A hippodrome for chariot races and training grounds for wrestling. In and around these buildings on the grounds of the sanctuary, there will be religious
buildings of every kind, great marble temples, statues and altars, and shrine-like treasuries which house offerings to the gods.
In fact, the altis will eventually be home to one of the seven wonders of the ancient world,
the statue of Zeus, an ivory gold masterpiece over 12 meters tall on its massive gold throne.
During the course of nearly 300 games, the sanctuary will be transformed into an ancient Olympic village.
Though something tells you that it's just as precinct, with species ranging from sycamore
to pine.
Canopies are at their finest in the bloom of summer.
Glossy leaves display a wondrous green color.
Colorful trees stand out amongst the green, their branches dripping with pinkish-purple flowers.
Bees and butterflies fill the air around them, drawn towards their pretty blossoms.
The trees form a barrier around the sanctuary, separating the altis from the world beyond.
Very few sounds break through the tree line, only birds chirping and the morning breeze and the gentle babbling of the shallow river.
Your view above the treetops has been mostly blue sky, though it's increasingly dominated by the beauty of Mount Cronus.
Gradually, the procession has veered away from the river and moved across the valley
at the base of the mountain.
at the base of the mountain.
You stroll along the grass amongst the group of spectators,
your footsteps hushed on the soft and springy lawn,
until gradually, the procession seems to slow down and quieten, and you come to a stop beside the boy and his sister. The crowd has gathered around a large stone altar, behind which is the man in his bright white robes. He stands behind a
veil of ethereal gray smoke which spills out from the burner before him on the altar. The gold burner is flanked by candles, while a roaring, great fire burns in front of the stone.
Sun-colored flames dance around a large fire pit, a raw-time bowl raised just above the ground.
The crackling and fizzling of this enormous hearth forms a comforting baseline beneath
the rustling of trees, even more so as it's punctuated by the man's tuneful chanting as he sings out his blessings
to the King of the Gods.
Behind him, the athletes stand in a line as still and unmoving as marble statues.
They face the crowd, their expressions serious, as if they're taking in each word, each blessing to Zeus.
to Zeus. That's how they remain until the priest has finished,
and it's time for the athletes to make their oath. Placing hands on hearts, they speak in unison,
reciting their promises in front of the crowd.
Competitors swear to Zeus and the Olympians that they will act with honor in accordance with the rules. So too do the men who stand behind them, the relatives and coaches that they've brought
with them.
Once the athletes have finished, another group steps forward, the Togclad officials in charge of the event, they too recite an oath, promising to uphold
the rules, to judge the contest fairly, without any bias. Lastly, the man takes a jug from the altar and pours it out onto the grass before the
fire.
The wine is a libation, an offering made to Zeus and the signal that the games have officially begun. A wave of
applause rolls through the crowd at the sight of the wine being poured onto the
ground. People cheer for their athletes and their cities, and for the king of the gods who watches
over the contest.
The crowd is accompanied by the sound of music coming from a band nearby on the grass.
Tambourines provide a steady rhythm beneath melodic pan flutes and small, hand-held harps.
The tune is reminiscent of an ancient fanfare. It's like something you might expect to announce the arrival of a monarch.
The volume is slightly muted behind the sounds of nature,
namely the breeze that flows across the valley.
that flows across the valley. While the tune is quite lively, the tempo is slow. The rhythm is soon matched by the patter of many footsteps as the crowd once again sets off behind the sportsman. The athletes lead the way towards the stadium,
the flattened-out pitch where the race will take place. The crowd moves slowly, like a winding river flowing as one across the sun-soaked lawn.
Footsteps slow briefly when passing by the altar, as people pause to lay gifts around
its base.
By the time you get there, it's entirely surrounded by mounds of offerings to the god of thunder.
You see punnets of grapes and bowls of fresh figs, jugs of fine wine, oils, and perfumes.
There are gold and silver coins, ornaments, and weapons,
and bushels of olive branches, with the olives still on them.
The smell of fresh fruits, wines, and oils blend together to form an enchanting perfume. You breathe in deeply as you stroll past the altar, savoring the scents and the freshness
of the breeze.
There's another smell too, beyond the altar.
It's the aroma of meat cooking on a fire.
Food is being prepared for the post-race banquet. A huge barbecue. Another gift for Zeus.
Food will be served just a short while from now, once the athletes have raced in what's known as the Stade. Competitors will sprint a distance of over 190 meters, racing along the track of the same name.
It's the only event at this one-day festival, which in a few hundred years will be five
days long. In future years, there will be chariot races, boxing, and the five-part pentathlon involving
running, discus throwing, javelin, long jump, and wrestling. Many events will be held in the stadium,
the flattened-out pitch sides by lush green hills.
The crowd disperses on arrival at the pitch, and groups of spectators find seats upon the grass.
seats upon the grass. You sit down near the boy and his sister, midway up the hillside, facing the mountain. The grassy soap makes for a comfortable seat. The sunlit lawn is warm and soft.
You enjoy the sensations of the grass beneath your palms as you lean back and bask in the
sunlight. You're thankful for the breeze that rolls up and down the slopes, tickling at the grass
and the fabric of your clothes.
The cooling air offsets the warmth of summer, resulting in temperatures that are altogether
pleasant.
You'd wager that the athletes are grateful for the breeze
as they prepare for their race on the pitch below.
From the slope of the hill, you can see them clearly, stretching their legs to warm up their muscles.
The games are open to all free men, though many of those competing are soldiers by profession. Competitors must come to Olympia a month before the contests
so that they can follow the training schedule laid out by officials.
Wealthier athletes have an obvious advantage in that they're able to afford a month away
from home.
They can dine on healthy foods and sleep well in fancy lodgings and hire a whole team of
helpers to support them throughout the month.
Down on the pitch, you can spot those with money, mostly by the size of the entourage around them.
Many are listening to the words of their coaches,
Many are listening to the words of their coaches, likely on the receiving end of a last-minute pep talk.
A few are being massaged and rubbed down with oil.
This will be scraped off after the race.
Some dine on snacks, like fragrant rose petals, believed to make one run a little faster.
As you watch the athletes make their final preparations. You can't help but overhear the boy and his sister.
They are playfully debating who might win the contest, their voices hushed in animated whispers.
whispers. The boy's vote goes to the soldier from Sparta, the one he approached earlier
to give the branch of laurels, though his older sister thinks that the Spartan is too stocky
and that he'll soon be outpaced by a slender Athenian. She also adds, with a hint of mischief, that she could beat them all if she were allowed
to enter, though she'd settle for being the victor of the Hurranian Games, the lesser-known counterpart
of the ancient Olympics. They are held every four years right here in the state,
overseen by a council of female officials. Unmarried women race against one another in
honor of Zeus's wife, the goddess Hera. Glancing at the spectators dotted about the grass,
you see that the girl is amongst a small number of women.
Such is the nature of ancient Greek culture that men and women inhabit very different
spheres. Women are forbidden from competing in the games, and only those who are unmarried are
allowed to watch.
However, centuries from now, Canisca of Sparta will become the first female winner by way
of a loophole.
The Spartan Princess will train the team of horses that go on to win the chariot race at two separate Olympics. And as the prize is awarded to the horse's owner,
And as the prize is awarded to the horse's owner, not the rider, officials will be forced to declare her the victor.
You wonder what the girl would say today if she were to see the bronze statue of the princess and her chariot amongst so many sculptures of men,
that in a few centuries will be scattered throughout the altis.
You're pondering whose statue will be the first to go up,
when your attention is drawn to the men on the pitch.
You see that the competitors have moved over to their starting blocks and placed their feet moves in the stone. The crowd around you falls into silence at
the sight of the athlete's steely-eyed focus. Each looks down a lane formed with lines of white gypsum, behind two cords stretched between two wooden posts.
The strings are pulled tightly at waist and knee height to hold the men back from starting
too early. Each of the strings are connected to each other and controlled by the referee
who officiates at the side. You watch now forward beneath the feet of the men, who race towards the
finish line to the cheers of the crowd. The athletes' movements are poised and graceful. They glide across the stadium, feet barely touching the ground.
Together, they are so fast that they're a blur of color, moving as one along the track. Watching the race is a surreal experience. As fast as the men are, they
look to move in slow motion. You notice little details like slight turns in the body, the creases of moving muscles, and the way their hair flows
behind them. At points, it's hard to tell the athletes apart, but when the competition ends,
But when the competition ends, there's a clear winner. And it isn't the Spartan warrior or the slender Athenian, nor one of the rich athletes with their team of devotees. The winner of the race is a man named Coribus.
He's a cook and baker from nearby Aelys. He's an average-looking man and an exceptional athlete, now the fastest man in the entire Greek
world. The crowd smiled and applauded as he's given his prize, a crown of olive leaves set down on his head.
The leaves have been cut from a sacred tree, one that grows within the sanctuary of the
Altis. The athlete's face beams with pride at the sound of his name being chanted and cheered.
Fame is the real prize of the ancient Olympics. Winners become legends, like the heroes of Greek mythology. As such, it's less than half an hour later
when you hear the cook's name being immortalized in song. A group of spectators sing the verses of a poem about the great Karebus as quick as Zeus'
lightning.
You listen, smiling, from your seat on the lawn, an empty plate and cup beside you. You've finished your banquet and given blessings
to the gods, picnicking on the race is over, and especially as appetites
have been satiated with good food.
People seem content to enjoy the summer sunshine and make easy conversation with friends on the grass.
Many, like yourself, are happy to say nothing.
It's rather lovely to be quiet after the excitement of the games.
be quiet after the excitement of the games. You can listen to the sounds of merry conversation
and the tune of musicians playing on in the distance.
Their songs are now calmer than before. The melody of a pan flute winds as gently as a
river. Harp-like strumming is slow and delicate, seemingly matched to the count of your inhales and exhales.
You close your eyes as if you're sunbathing on the lawn and listen to the sounds of your own soothing breath. Above it, you hear the breeze that whistles through the altis,
rustling the branches of the sacred trees.
You can still smell the petals from the stone walkway and the fresh, ripe fruits laid out on the altar.
And you almost seem to notice a trace of salt water, though you're miles away from the Ionian coastline.
The breeze seems to roll like the waves of an ocean, rising and falling in an endless rhythm.
It washes over you where you lay on your bed of warm grass,
dozing off into blissful relaxation
peaceful relaxation and dreams of these first Olympic Games. You You You I'm going to go ahead and start the video.. I'm going to go ahead and close the video. You You. You I'm going to go ahead and close the video.. You. You....