Hi, Sleepy. Tonight we tumble straight into the soft chaos: gratitude letters from everywhere, the strange art of being personal-not-private, and why “content creator” sounds like a label on an empty jar.

We circle around presidents paying for burgers, detour by Elvis (don’t worry), and then land in a sweaty body-pump class where a 50-year-old Swede forgets how heavy ten kilos get after forty reps.

A robot vacuum develops ritualistic tendencies, a pizza becomes a childhood comet, and language itself turns into a sleepy predator stalking the right word.

Nothing is planned, everything is allowed—just enough sparkle to keep you half-interested while you drift off to sleep on this imaginative, gently absurd journey to a peaceful night. It is what it is. Let’s begin.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight I begin with a black t-shirt and a forest that insists it’s a ballroom. We wade into the dark pond of starting—awkward at first, then quietly inevitable. I whisper little unimportant truths (the best kind), invent hidden worlds on top of air-ducts, and point out a troll behind a birch just to keep the ordinary honest.

We talk about fear—cellar-door fear—and the moment you slam it and lie down anyway. We compare the “mess” of a teenage room with the sacred clutter of the forest floor, and meet a bird who builds perfect nests only to undo them, the way art sometimes does.

Somewhere in there I admit I’m scared of being unloved and still decide to swim. It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now there’s nothing we need to do—except drift off to sleep on this small, imaginative journey to sleep and a peaceful night. Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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A sun-splashed motorway, The Killers on repeat, one hand on the wheel and one small tear of relief—then we tumble, softly, into an alternate city where poems buy blankets and conversation pays for lunch.

Your guide hums by your ear, pigeons approve this silence, and a blue gate dissolves into fog while we practice the art of lane-changing without panic.

Nothing to fix, only to notice. Let go, drift off to sleep, and let this imaginative, introspective ramble carry you toward a peaceful night, Sleepy. It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do but begin.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight I record with a camera staring back and a desk lamp pretending to be the sun. We wander from “ugly days” and nameless feelings to a pocket-list of fears (being unloved, losing the thread) and a shy wish for an embrace that actually lands.

Stockholm drifts by in autumn colors; Antarctica glitters at the horizon; the anger engine sputters and we swap it for aim. It’s an introspective, slightly absurd ramble designed to help you drift off to sleep—soft edges, loose threads, and an imaginative lull between breaths.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do except fall asleep together. Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight we practice the tender art of doing nothing without giving up. We float between two kinds of inaction — the gentle pause that lets you drift off to sleep, and the frozen moment where choice feels like a tiny, sharp point.

From there we wander: gratitude letters from Sydney to Naples, the strange party where everyone talks about you and you try not to wave, and a ghost-story from drama school about a fearsome mime-teacher who once broke me and later cried at my opera. Hierarchies, lion-lounges, whispered corridors, and the ridiculous pride of saying “I saw Bergman live” while brushing the dust off my inner raisin.

It is what it is — and right now there’s nothing we can do but breathe, listen, and let confusion soften at the edges. Let my voice be your messy mind for a while: introspective, imaginative, and gently absurd — a small, shambling journey to sleep. Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight I’m the hat that won’t come off and the sigh that finally settles. We wander from my daughter’s Friday-breath of relief to a prairie of 900 million cows, a horse named Barbara who can sing the herd into neat little lines, and the dizzy kindness of work—the kind that bends backs and hearts and still asks for more.

We listen for sand that sings, tip our hat to saints with thorny ideas, and let the town called Rest appear just when the dust tastes like old starlight between our teeth. It’s an improvisational, introspective little journey to sleep where nothing has to be solved and everything gets to breathe.

Let my voice do the walking while you drift off to sleep, unbuttoning the day one quiet image at a time. It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we need to do except close our eyes and ride. Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight we dig where we stand—heels in the soil, head in the constellations. From a quantum shiver under our feet to a secret cave in the mind, we wander through dream-workshops where ponies deflate with comic dignity and a shaggy little creature eats a balloon behind a popcorn stall.

We wonder if dreams are solitary janitors or communal rivers, if cores are gilded or just waves, and whether our inner rubber band needs a little soul-oil. It is what it is. What happens, happens. Breathe, drift off to sleep, and let the cave open like a quiet door. Sleepy, I can’t hear you—but I can feel you. Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight we drift through memory like a midnight train—rattling carriages of rain on the Adventure Wolf roof, a not-quite-Luke hero tugging us forward, and a cottage where blue cheese grew in the breadbox like a tiny forest.

We visit old windows with yellow curtains, recite war verses that don’t quite fit a five-year-old, and meet the faces that made us—grandmothers, grandfathers, and the mystery of a dad who tells perfect anecdotes with the feelings left just offstage.

It’s an intimate, fog-soft journey to sleep, where the past keeps showing up as rooms in the mind and you get to simply lie back and let it all carry you. Not boring, not exciting—just human, just enough, so you can fall asleep and drift off to a peaceful night. Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hi Sleepy. This one drifts like an unnecessary car ride into town that turns into coffee left unfinished. From there we tumble back to 2006—binders full of tour dates, whispered phone calls with elk hunters named Kurt (or was it Koot?), and four people in a forest of 500 empty chairs, half of them heckling.

Out comes Mr. Green Branch in his too-tight green suit, a grumpy caterpillar refusing change, while I wonder why I always end up in tights.

Phones appear, disappear, reappear. Memory slips, blue light glows, meditation becomes a crutch, and suddenly sleep itself is just another improvisation.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, nothing is required of you. Just drift.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight I drift through mirrors—my own face in the TV screen, the cold studio air, the autumn leaves scratching outside, and the eyes of my parents, now fragile and still somehow ocean-sized. I talk about self-doubt, about calling myself ugly and then swearing, in a forest, to never do it again. I tell you about driving my parents through the towns where they once fell in love, about being both their son and their caretaker, about rage and tenderness and the unbearable sweetness of still having them here.

It’s messy, contradictory, sometimes absurd—but that’s what family is. That’s what life is. And maybe, Sleepy, you’ll hear yourself in it too as you drift off to sleep into the great, strange night.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

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Hello, Sleepy. Tonight we wander into snow and silence, into a lonely cabin where a map maker hides from the world, and a girl named Maya knocks on his door. You’ll hear boots crunching through icy forests, the stillness of a man who hasn’t spoken in decades, and the flicker of impossible maps — rivers flowing into clouds, forests made of glass, and secret tunnels that stretch under Europe.

It’s a story, but not quite. A dream, but not quite. A drifting between silence and symbols, where each turn of the page could lead to wonder or ruin. You don’t need to keep up. Let your mind slip, let the maps redraw themselves in your sleep.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s begin.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight, I stumble into a story about watery vegetable soup, forbidden teenage love, and a dog named M who pinned me to a leather sofa with his smelly breath and fifty kilos of stubbornness.

From there, we drift to wrinkled birthday balloons, the sad fate of helium, barbershop choirs full of old drunk men, gooey macaroni comfort food, and the odd arrogance of singing “My Wild Irish Rose” with too much confidence.

Somehow, it all turns into a meditation on love, gas, sadness, laughter, and whether one should ever preemptively murder a balloon.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do. Let’s begin.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi Sleepy.

Imagine a quilt made out of clouds, moth wings, and half-forgotten conversations. This is that quilt. Only instead of keeping you warm, it might keep you... asleep. Or not. It is what it is. What happens, happens.

In this hours-long, slow-moving meteor of sound, I’ve stitched together five journeys through the strange and familiar landscapes of my own head. We begin with a denial (“This is not a sleeppodcast”), tumble into a curious caretaker dynamic (“I feel like I’m taking care of Henrik”), explore the bare bones of human aloneness (“The anatomy of loneliness”), take a left turn into the rear-end of knowledge (“Arses and information”), and finally sink into a quiet tête-à-tête where time forgets to tick (“Tranquil tête-à-tête”).

The result? An unhurried, wandering, oddly comforting stretch of sound where ideas dissolve like sugar in tea, and you, Sleepy, can drift, sway, hover… and eventually slide into a peaceful night.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi, Sleepy.

It’s vacation. That ambiguous soup of time where everything’s supposed to soften, slow down, sparkle. But what if it doesn’t? What if your inner rhythm just… refuses to change? In this summer-soaked episode, I step out of my apartment and wander through Stockholm’s shaded parks. I meet roses, ducks, and eventually a sarcastic, unexpectedly wise beetle who calls me a melancholic ape and asks what I’m going to do about it.

We talk. About loss. About bark peeling like scrolls of memory. About wings being a trap. About loneliness, goo, and the cruel softness of metamorphosis. And no, this isn’t a children’s story, although maybe it is. Maybe everything is, if you listen while drifting off.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it.

Sleep tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi Sleepy. Tonight we investigate the duties of a dude, explore the dangers of barfing in Bermuda, and invent book titles together in a kind of dreamy publishing house of the mind. I’ll be your messy thinker while you drift off to sleep, and together we’ll wander into absurd forests, revisit long-lost friendships, contemplate public pouting birch trees, and relive the time I failed gracefully in front of the late literary elite of Sweden. There’s also a sour face in a tree, a runaway boy on a kick bike, and a heartfelt reminder that the darkness isn’t afraid of you. And that, my dear Sleepy, might be enough.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi Sleepy. This episode starts somewhere between a weather forecast and an unknown song, and then tumbles headfirst into illusions, windmills, and the inexplicable human need to throw raw eggs into fans. I talk about nutcases (actual nuts may be involved), being a self-observing street rat, and my unwavering defence of my mother when I was seventeen and vibrating with teenage fury.

We ponder the pedestal of purpose, the ghost of Don Quixote, and the mysterious romance of telepathy across time. There’s also a forest. And a stove. And a scandal involving a man who snored through an entire audiobook.

Somewhere in all this, Sleepy, we might discover the meaning of life. Or not. But either way — this is your cue to loosen your grip, tilt your mind slightly to the left, and begin your peculiar little journey to sleep.

Sleep tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Welcome to Fall Asleep with Henrik! This isn’t meditation. And it’s not a bedtime story. It’s me — Henrik — talking softly, strangely, truthfully, until your brain gives up. Fall Asleep with Henrik. A podcast like nothing else. Every week.

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi Sleepy.

I’m not inspired today. Which is perfect, really. Because what better place to begin than from absolutely nowhere?

We start with a cheerful dead mouse – not a real one – but a rollercoaster. We imagine its wild, happy face as we plunge into the Stockholm archipelago, which I pronounce about seven times too many. Somewhere along the way I try to explain the meaning of “Stockholm” while forgetting what “Holme” means. I get interrupted by an imaginary mouse who wants to discuss existentialism. Fair enough.

This is not your average journey to sleep. We tumble through carnival metaphors, church summer camps, ancient Greek statues, teenage identity loss, and the unbearable tightness of fitting rooms. Also: why cats are secretly our enemies, the mystery of polar beers, and how to house anxiety like a loud but lovable guest.

I don’t know anything, and that’s sort of the point.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Hi Sleepy. Do you ever feel like you’ve swapped yourself out, part by part, until you’re a totally different person, yet somehow still…you? Tonight, we set sail on the ship of Theseus, only to lose the rudder and find a violin instead. We spiral through liquid glass interfaces from the ’90s, winter mornings at minus 30°C, the dizzy terror of spinning taxis, and an oak tree that may or may not live inside me.

This is a swirling, windy episode. An introspective drift through memories of childhood fires, self-doubt, violin camps, and the inexplicable beauty of being the very fingertip of bliss in a clam-indifferent universe.

You’re welcome to join the Facebook group, by the way. You’ll find some friendly Swedes and maybe even a giggling god or two.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s begin.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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Welcome, Sleepy. Tonight we travel nowhere and everywhere. From rain-soaked Stockholm afternoons to marble statues of sorrow in the dark, from sugar-longings and beard-brushed foreheads in a monk’s TV room to the simple bewilderment of carrying too many plastic bags—this episode drifts through it all.

There will be illusions, instant gratification, loneliness, monks with “French nerves,” disappointing first kisses, and the strange normalcy of dreams after staring grief straight in the face. And all the while, I just want to be a decent person. Not perfect. Just decent.

It’s okay to feel lost. It’s okay to not know what to do with your arms. It’s okay to want to be held.

Let’s just sit here a while, in our quiet little room of sound.

Listen ad free and join my universe at: https://fallasleepwithhenrik.supercast.com/

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